you were just trying to be productive. really, that was it. the shared closet had become a war zone of mismatched socks, forgotten hoodies, and a suspicious amount of jake’s half-folded sweatpants. so, with the motivation of a person who had finally snapped, you started cleaning.

everything was going fine — until you picked up jake’s jacket.

you were about to hang it up when something heavy in the pocket caught your attention. and because you were you, curiosity won.

you reached in, expecting maybe loose change, a crumpled receipt, or, knowing jake, a half-eaten granola bar. what you pulled out instead? a tiny velvet box.

you blinked.

the engagement ring kind of tiny velvet box.

oh.

your brain short-circuited. you weren’t sure if you were supposed to scream, cry, or put it back like you saw nothing. naturally, you did the worst possible option: you dropped the box like it was cursed and gasped out loud — which was exactly when jake walked in.

his eyes darted from you to the ring box now lying incriminatingly on the floor. there was a long pause. then, he sighed so dramatically you almost expected background music.

“babe,” he whined, “you weren’t supposed to find that yet!”

“why was it in your jacket pocket?” you whisper-screamed, still frozen.

he crossed his arms, pouting. “where else was i supposed to hide it? under the bed? you vacuum under there.”

you stared. “normal people put it in a drawer. a safe. not their pocket, like they’re waiting for a drive-thru proposal.”

he gasped. “hey! don’t make fun of my hiding skills when you’re the one snooping.”

“i was cleaning.”

“same thing!”

silence. you both looked at the ring box. then at each other.

“…should i just propose now?” jake asked hesitantly.

you groaned, grabbing a hoodie and throwing it at him. “no! pretend i never saw it!”

“so dramatic,” he muttered, but he was grinning as he picked up the ring and stuffed it back into his very bad hiding spot.