ASAP

She didn't like him one bit. He was too tall, quiet and ...hell, who cared, she wanted to marry a man that she loved, not one that her parents decided was good for her. She decided things in her life, her job, her clothes, her hair styles, her new motorcycle too.


It upset her no end when her mother called one evening to inform her that she had to get home a little earlier than usual - a prospective groom was coming home to see her.


That did it. She stormed out of her work place, went home, with full intentions on bringing the house down with her protests when she walked into a house full of people who stared at her with what she could only call curious interest. There was the mother, of course. Who sized her up quickly, introduced herself and her family. The father smiled genially and asked her to 'feel comfortable'. Of course she would feel comfortable, it was her house, was it not?


She sat herself down, threw a miserable look at her mother who had decided to not look in her direction.
She was then introduced to the man himself. So he was tall...and quiet. And he was so polite, she started feeling exactly what she didn't want to feel - uncomfortable.


The family asked them to go for a stroll and get to know each other while the folks stayed home and hoped they would like each other. She led him down, walked to her motorcycle and then paused. Weren't they supposed to walk?


"Sorry, I forgot. Let's go out, we can walk behind the apartment, the road is not very traffic heavy there."


He smiled. "Is that your bike?"


"Yes."


"You ride a bike."


She shifted on her feet. Dare he say that it's odd that a girl rides a bike. She would take him back home immediately and refuse to ever see him again. Bloody chauvinistic world.


"Will you take me for a ride instead? I will be your pillion."


She dropped her key and stared.


"Okay."


They rode off, into the traffic, an orange sunset witness to the sudden change she knew was happening. She rode, that feeling of speed seeping into her. He talked in the meanwhile, briefly telling her about what he did at work, the colors he liked, the food he liked to eat, the movies he saw, the music he listened to, the sports he played. He then started with his questions - what do you do, what do you do with your free time, what movies do you like, what do you want to do later, do you have dreams that you would die for...


And she spoke and laughed and giggled and listened and she knew.


She knew she wanted him to inch closer. Put his hand on her waist. Smell her hair. Kiss her neck. Tickle her and tease her. Now. On the bike. And later too. Tomorrow. The day after. Forever. Make love to her. Hold her. Kiss her. Laugh with her.


She inched back, turning the bike to a particularly rocky road. The bike lurched. He panicked.


"Do you want to go slow?" he asked.


"Yeah, sure. Hold on to me, will you?"


"Sure. Marry me. And  I will keep doing just that." He put his hands around her waist, pulling her closer into himself, smelling her hair, nuzzling her neck. She stopped the bike, arched her head.


"As soon as possible?"


"As soon as possible."