We were watching a movie. It was a Wednesday and it was just an average day. My hair was pulled back and I was laying with a book in my lap as I glanced up at the show for a few moments that I was only half watching.

He sat at the other end of the sofa, looking perfect as usual. He looked at me briefly. "You know what?" He asked.

"What?" I murmured looking at my book.

"I hate your label."

I stared at him. "What?"

"Your label."

"Which label?"

"Girlfriend. I hate that word. I hate it so much. I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore. I hate that word. You know what word I like? Fiancee. Or Wife. Those are beautiful words and they fit you much better. I hate girlfriend and I really hope you hate boyfriend. Because I do."

I gaped at him.

He got off the couch knelt in front of me and took my left hand. "I love you. If you don't want to be my fiancee, I'm still going to call you that," he informed me. "Because I hate girlfriend. And it's only a matter of time, my love. Will you marry me?"

"I hate boyfriend," I responded softly, tears clouding my vision. He grinned, ringed me, and kissed me.