“{{user}}?”

His grave tone takes precedence over his rationality, fear overtaking him.

The small velvety box in his pocket weighs a ton. He bought it the day you told him his arms feel like home.

He's been fumbling around the subject, allowing his apprehension to continue weighing on him like an immovable boulder.

But now’s the time.

“Can we talk?”

He’s unaware that his nervous tone paints the picture of impending bad news, obscuring his intention of a heartfelt proposal.