Fire: Chapter Sixteen

Shannon rested her head on Michael's shoulder. She had never realized how comforting it was to be able to be silent with a man. The absolute ease of it, with him, that there was no need to worry about what to say, or to stress about the fact that neither one of them had said a word for at least twenty minutes. There was no tension, no stress, no fear. It was amazing to Shannon, who was used to treading on eggshells around men, being apprehensive, having to second-guess herself at every move, every word. It was one of the reasons she had practically sworn off men for good. But this was so different. It was like a miracle. She closed her eyes and breathed, deep. When she let out her breath it was like she was finally letting go of all that stored-up angst. Michael tightened his arm around her, as if he knew.

Finally Michael murmured, half under his breath, "It's so beautiful here..."

Shannon replied with a nod and a muffled "mmmm", nestled as she was against his warmth. She could feel his heartbeat. This is heaven, she thought. I'm in heaven, right now.

"....but not as beautiful as you." Michael had finished his sentence and Shannon lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him. She blinked. He
wasn't even looking at her, but gazing out over the wildflower meadow, the heather-covered lowland plain and the mountains beyond. He continued talking softly, a trace of Yorkshire creeping into his voice. "What do you want, Shannon?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she whispered, staring at his wonderfully balanced profile - his tousled hair, long eyelashes, delightfully crooked nose, soft
lips, strong chin. The silky chestnut hair curling over his collar. He smelled of sunshine and heather.

"I mean...what do you want, out of life?" Still he didn't look at her. He fiddled with a piece of grass and started to chew at it. Shannon thought for a moment, then spoke, steadily and clearly, her words carefully chosen, and yet with a surprising minimum of effort considering no-one had ever really asked her this question before.

"Security. Honesty. Friendship. Freedom. Travel. Trust. Safety. Adventure. Family. Children. A home." She was aware that some of the words didn't fit together, but somehow she knew that this was not an exercise in logic.

She looked at Michael. He was chewing his grass. She breathed, trying to stop the sudden ferocious pounding of her heart. Finally he turned, looked into her eyes and said, simply,

"Marry me."