The rain drummed softly against the windows, a steady rhythm filling the quiet apartment. You and Drew had planned to go out today, maybe grab coffee and walk around the city, but the storm had other ideas.

Now, you were both lying on the floor of your living room, legs tangled, surrounded by scraps of paper.

“You’re cheating,” Drew accused, narrowing his blue eyes at you playfully.

You grinned, twirling the pen between your fingers. “How can you cheat at this?”

He scoffed. “You’re writing novels while I’m struggling to come up with a single sentence.”

You laughed, glancing at his paper, which had only three words scribbled on it: You are beautiful.

Drew groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “How do you make this look so easy?”

Shaking your head, you reached for one of the folded notes you had already written and slid it across the floor to him. “Here. Read this one.”

Drew picked it up, unfolding it carefully. His lips parted slightly as he read your words:

I love the way you look at me like I’m the only person in the room. I love that you always let me steal the last bite of food, even when you pretend to fight me for it. I love that you sing in the car, off-key and too loud, just to make me laugh. And I love you, Drew. More than I can ever fit on a tiny piece of paper.

Drew blinked, then looked at you. His expression was softer now, full of something you couldn’t quite place—something warm, something deep. Without a word, he reached for his own paper, scribbled something down, and folded it up before handing it to you.

You raised a brow. “Already?”

“Just read it,” he said, grinning.

You unfolded the note and felt your heart stumble at the words:

Marry me?