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.
—————————-
Once again, fictional. I feel like a sappy romantic these days and my stories reflect it. Have a nice weekend! 😀

Yes or no?

My hands were sweaty and my feet were actually shaking. There she was, in all her beauty as we ran into each other in the empty hall of the school. She was with her classmate, and I was with a friend. She seemed to come out of nowhere, but I beamed. She was singing “All by myself” loudly,and immediately stopped when she saw me and smiled. She already knew I liked her. And she seems so cool with that fact. Ever since I admitted it to her last Saturday, I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t even wait til Monday came so I could see her again.
All day I’ve tried to catch a glimpse of her, and she seemed to pop out of nowhere just as I was thinking of her. It was like she read my mind or something. Although I chickened out to go to the cafeteria for lunch because I knew she would be there, I really wanted to see her. She gave my feet an extra bounce. When I saw her after lunch, she just pinched me and even noticed my haircut. I smiled widely, and pinched her back.
I’ve liked her for three years now, and I just came around to telling her because I knew after Graduation Day there was less chance to tell her. She made me feel like/love at first sight, since the moment I saw her face peering into our classroom looking for her friend when I was eleven(yes, ELEVEN). She swept me off my feet that moment, even though I should have done the sweeping since I was the guy. I met her officially through my friend, and with shaky hands and puberty peering everywhere, I introduced myself to her. I never wanted to wash my hands, especially when she said I was the first guy to shake her hand during introductions.
Now going back to what was really happening in front of me, I saw her turn to the left, going towards where I was headed. She was whispering something to her friend. Suddenly, I didn’t know what came over me, but I grabbed her arm and made her turn to me. Her friend walked on, not even noticing her absence. My friend walked on too, knowing what I was going to do.
I held her hand, and felt that it was soft and small. My heart raced faster than any car, as I knelt down in front of her, and I could see her blush. It was darn cute. I shook off the instinct of daydreaming, and looked up to her eyes. ‘You’re fourteen years old. Get a grip’ I told myself.  I must have looked like a lost puppy before I finally blurted out:
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
I swear my heart stopped, waiting for her answer. She smiled, unable to control herself. She then whispered,
“Maybe.”
And walked away towards her friend. I was dumbfounded, and I grinned so much that my cheeks hurt. That one word, two syllables. Even when she said maybe, at least she didn’t say no right? I’m going to court her, like they did in the old days and then ask her again to be my girlfriend when the time is right.

(more than two years later, we’re still together)