Kitchen Romance

"But seriously, it's amazing," insists my girlfriend, waving a grilled cheese sandwich under my nose.

"No. It could be the most delicious grilled cheese in the whole freaking world and I still wouldn't eat it. You ruined it, my dude."

"Really?" she asks. "Did I? Just with a single slice of a knife?"

"Yes, Pip, you did. It's cut into rectangles. The only way to acceptably cut a sandwich of any type is into triangles."

"Oh my god," Pip cries. "This is freaking sandwich racism, El."

"Ehhh, I'm not so sure about that," I tell her.

She smiles and gives me a quick kiss. Butterflies tickle my stomach, "I do love you, though. Even if you are very picky about your sandwich-cuts."

I grin back at her and say, "Yes, I know. You always will. And I am not picky, Pip. I am the least picky person ever. In the whole history of the world. Really,"

"Hm, I don't know about that," scoffs Pip playfully.

I bat at her and she runs around the kitchen, squealing, "Ellis! No! Not in the kitchen! You're going to knock something over!"

"And what will you do if I do?" I smirk at her and wave my kitchen towel, which I had been using as a whip to bash Pip with, very near Pip's fish tank.

She gasps at seeing her fish so endangered. "Nope! Game over. Don't bring my babies into this."

"Oh, and I'm not your baby too?" I fake-sob, pretending to be hurt.

"El sweetie, you'll always be my babe, you know that," she says consolingly. "But these guys-" Pip motions to the fish- "-are my babies."

"Aw, Pippy, I thought you loved me more then them."

She smiles slyly. "I do, though. Want me to prove it?" And she steps forward and kisses me straight on the mouth. A shiver of delight runs through me, just like every other kiss we share. I like Pip more than I'll admit. A lot more.

"Pip, you know I do love you, but you can do sooooo much better than little pecks like that. You're honestly a kindergartener the way you kiss." I want her to kiss me again. But she just stands there, arms crossed, sneaky grin on her face.

"If you're the smooch expert, why don't you show me?"

"I will, then," I retort.

She laughs that cute little laugh of hers, and I really do want to kiss her. "Go ahead, Ellis," she challenges with a cocky flip of her hair. I throw my arms around her neck and kiss her with passion. She makes a surprised noise but kisses me back.

One kiss turns into another, and another, and another, and then we're making out, each touch of our lips filling me with a tingly thrill deep inside. I sit down on the windowsill and she fits perfectly in my lap. More. More. More. Oh god, please more. I want more. Give me more.

Could we stay here forever, please, just kissing each other in your kitchen, letting the world go by while we stand still? I want to ask her. Her mom comes in and smiles at the sight of us. Shaking her head, laughing, she scolds us gently not to make out in the kitchen because it's "unsanitary". I'll face the wrath of you any day in order to kiss my beloved girlfriend, I think, but don't say anything.

We apologize in usion, sneaking glances and giggles as she leaves. "And there better not be any physical stuff in my kitchen either!" Pip's mom yells over her shoulder.

"Mom!" she cries, face flushed in the cutest way possible. I laugh at her embarrassment and she sticks her tongue out at me.

"Yeah, Pippy. No physical stuff," I tease, scooting closer to her on the windowsill.

"Yeah, we don't want to get the kitchen dirty, do we?" Pip's hand touches mine.

"Oh, no. Never. Of course not. Wouldn't dream of it."

She grabs my hand and kisses me. "I love you," she whispers in my ear.

"Me too. Forever and ever and ever."

I feel her smile even when I look away.

She leans into me and sways gently. It's a simple movement, a simple moment, but I love it so much. "Ellis, I met you three years ago and those three years have been the greatest years of my life," Pip murmurs.

She suddenly pulls away from me and gets off the windowsill. "So I know I don't have a ring or anything and this really sudden and probably too early, but I really do love you and I want you for my forever." I know what she's going to say next and I'm silently begging her to ask me what I'm positive she will. Finally, she says it.

"Ellis Anne Carter, will you marry me?"

I look at her. All of her. Her eyes, full of love and joy and hope. Her mouth, which I have kissed so many times I've lost count. Her figure, so etched into my brain that I could trace it in the dark. Her hair, fluffy and perfectly messy. Her hands, that I grab in the dark when I can't begin to see what's next and everything is unsure and I'm sobbing like a newborn baby. And she wants it all to be mine? She wants to give herself to me forever? The answer is easy.

"Pip Elizabeth Aneth, yes, I will marry you."

Pip shrieks and runs into my arms, crying with happiness. "I love you, El," she promises.

"Oh, Pip, I love you too." She kisses me. The taste of sweet berries lingers on my lips.

"I can't believe I get to be your fiance, and then be your wife. Me! Married! To you, of all people! God! Can you believe, Ellis? Can you believe?"

"I can," I tell her truthfully. I've believed in this future ever since I met her. And I believe in it now even more that it's actually happening.

Now, on our wedding day, I still believe. Pip stands next to me, glowing with happiness, in a beautiful white dress. I hug her. We're actually married. We did it. We found what everyone is looking for. What started over a grilled cheese that day in Pip's kitchen has become so much more than I could ever imagine.