My bag carrier

“I have your bag with me so you won’t leave me.”

He said, a smile on his face. I chuckled, as I waited in line. He walked away from me, looking at the aisle where they sold toys. He looked back at me, as if asking for permission.

“Go then. I don’t think I’m going anywhere with my whole life praticaly in that bag.”

He beamed at me, then walked into the toy section. For someone who’s almost twenty seven years old, my boyfriend sure acts like a kid. I shook my head, as the cashier lady said “Next.” I emptied my arm, full of new books to read. As the computer beeped with every swipe, I realized my wallet was in my bag. I silently cursed, hoping that he’s come back before I had to pay.

“That would be nine hundred pesos.” The lady said, bored as ever.

I looked around for him, and when I saw his egg shaped head, I practically called him like an overhead speaker. He hurriedly ran towards me, his hand behind his back.

“What is that?” I said, eyeing him suspiciously.

He pulled out a space gun and a Hot Wheels car shyly, putting them on the counter. The lady swiped them, and I paid for it. Figures, I thought. I’m in love with someone obsessed with guns and cars while he’s in love with a girl with more books than sense. I inwardly smiled to myself, as he took the bag with all our stuff in it. I offered to take my bag from him, but he resisted, reminding me how many times I ran off without him. I smiled, remembering the times I left him in department stores and other places just because I knew he’d go looking for me. It was fun while it lasted, and it always resulted in a kiss, because I always scare him to death.

“We’re home.”

He said, breaking my chain of thoughts. I looked at the second floor, where our apartment was located. With our heavy grocery bags, he took them all, determined to do it in one trip. I laughed at his antics as we walked up the building. Reaching our door, he asked me for the keys. I quizzically look at him, as he struggled to open the door with the key. I was about to follow him inside, when he stopped me, making a few jars in the grocery bag to crash together.

“Don’t go in yet.” He said, more like ordered.

I puffed at him, and he just smiled as he took the grocery bags and my bag into the apartment. Curiosity was killing me by the second, and just as I was about to open the door his face popped out.

“I know you’re impatient, but could you just please wait here? I won’t be long, I promise.”

He looked flustered, his face looking like he ran a marathon. I reluctantly nodded as he closed the door, locking it from the inside. My eyes widened at the realization: he locked me out! But I stood my ground and stuck my ears onto the door. I could hear his frantic steps, and I could hear him throwing something to the ground. He was saying something I couldn’t make out, then it was silent. The door flung open, causing me to stumble into his arms.

“Eight years later and you’re still falling for me?” He smugly said.

I stuck my tongue out to him, and that is when I realized what he was wearing. He had an actual tux on, like a cute little penguin. He had a yellow rose on his front pocket, and his face broke out into a smile when I looked up.

“You’re not wearing any pants.” I said, stifling a laugh while looking at his Perry the Platypus boxers.

“That’s because when I was just about to put on pants, I heard someone impatiently listening in to what I was doing.”

I smiled at him proudly, then I tried to take a peek of what was behind him. To my dismay, he tsked and blocked my view.

“If you’re going to keep doing that, how am I supposed to propose to you perfectly?”

His eyes widened at what he said, and closed his mouth shut. I was practically peeing myself now, the excitement rushing through me like a drug. He looked at me again, running his hand through his hair.

“Pretend you didn’t hear that okay?”

I nodded, unable to say anything. He then opened the door, and it revealed all my bags and books. They were arranged by color and shape, most books inside a bag. Petals of roses covered the floor, and it was dimly lighted. My brain buffered for a good minute, before I finally noticed him kneeling in front of me with what looked like a handle on his head.

“I know you treat your books and bags as your life. You treat them delicately, and every bag has a book. Everything you need is in a bag, and when you need a good distraction you have your book. I have that connection with my toys, but in a manly way.”

I laughed at what he said, tears brimming at my eyes.

“So I want to ask you this: could I be the one to carry your bag forever?”

I stared at him like he was an alien, not understanding what he said.

“I mean, you said earlier your bag is your life right?”

I nodded, still confused.

“Then could I carry you all your life?”

Realization struck me, and my heart skipped several beats, making me wonder if I was going to have a heart attack. I smiled at him, and slowly nodded. He smiled at me, slipping in the simple diamond ring into my finger. He then lifted me up, and I squealed in delight.

“What with the hair prop though?”

He put me down, then smiled like a little boy.

“I was going to dress up as a bag and say ‘Could I be a part of your life?’, but I figured that I was already a part of it. But I figured that out after I bought this.”

I laughed at his cheesiness, then he lifted me up bridal style.

“Shall I carry my fiance towards our bedroom?”

I looked around the mess in the living room, and looked at him.

“You know you’re going to clean this all up later. I don’t want my bags and books getting ruined because you-“

I was cut off by his lips, passionately entrancing me into a spell. I swear his kisses should be bottled up somewhere and be an illegal drug. He walked towards our room, and closed it with his foot. He slowly put me down, kissing the top of my nose.

“Care to dance my fiance?”

I stepped into his arms, and he began to sway us back and forth. I smiled onto his chest, excited what else life would bring me and my permanent bag carrier.
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Once again, fictional. I feel like a sappy romantic these days and my stories reflect it. Have a nice weekend! 😀

16 thoughts on “My bag carrier”

  1. i like how you're getting with this story. one comment – i think you meant "was in my bag" not "in my back" – I look forward to reading more.

  2. Whoa, love that story!!! It made my eyes well up too! As a woman I think we are sappy but one could only hope to have such a sweet story to be able to tell your grandkids one day.

  3. What lovely story, my eyed were welled up also! As a sappy woman I could only hope that my daughter could have such a lovely story to tell her gandkids one day of how she met their grandfather. Love it

  4. Though, I have been married for almost 8 years now but still any stories liked proposal, engagement, I find it romantic and always bringing back precious memories!

  5. I'm a big sap for romance too. When I was a teenager, I used to borrow stacks of romance novels from the library and spend hours in my room reading them. I think I will always be a hopeless romantic.

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