the most beatiful story of love
Eduardo had, unlikely though he is to admit it now, been more than a little surprised when it came to his attention that his and Olive's six month anniversary was approaching. It isn't like he'd forgotten when it happened or anything; there's no way he could ever forget that, especially considering the circumstances under which it occurred, the weekend that preceded their figuring things out. All it was was a matter of not keeping track of time. Though aware of the date and that it had been months and months since he'd arrived, the specifics of that timing weren't anything he had kept track of. There hadn't been any need.
Now, though, he means to keep it completely committed to memory, and not just because he remembers how angry Christy got when he neglected to observe the few small landmarks they reached. Olive isn't like that, not at all, but God knows he wouldn't want to disappoint her. Besides, six months is a long fucking time - longer than he's ever been in a relationship before, longer than he thought he ever would be. All things considered, it's kind of incredible, not to mention more than a little surreal, even after all this time. He'd be stupid not to want to do anything about that for himself, but even more so for Olive. She's never been here either, and she deserves the very best, as much as he's able to give and then some.
So he's done what he thinks will be romantic, limited knowledge though he has, and set up like for a picnic on the beach just near their house, food he picked up earlier in a basket. He's been grateful before for how close they live to each other, and grateful for the location in which they live, but never quite so much as now, the only reason he can pull any of this off in the first place. He just hopes he hasn't somehow gotten something wrong.
Dressed in one of his nicer suits - not the best choice for the beach, maybe, but he doesn't really care about that quite so much - he heads over to Olive's and stands back after knocking, just trying not to seem at all nervous.
Now, though, he means to keep it completely committed to memory, and not just because he remembers how angry Christy got when he neglected to observe the few small landmarks they reached. Olive isn't like that, not at all, but God knows he wouldn't want to disappoint her. Besides, six months is a long fucking time - longer than he's ever been in a relationship before, longer than he thought he ever would be. All things considered, it's kind of incredible, not to mention more than a little surreal, even after all this time. He'd be stupid not to want to do anything about that for himself, but even more so for Olive. She's never been here either, and she deserves the very best, as much as he's able to give and then some.
So he's done what he thinks will be romantic, limited knowledge though he has, and set up like for a picnic on the beach just near their house, food he picked up earlier in a basket. He's been grateful before for how close they live to each other, and grateful for the location in which they live, but never quite so much as now, the only reason he can pull any of this off in the first place. He just hopes he hasn't somehow gotten something wrong.
Dressed in one of his nicer suits - not the best choice for the beach, maybe, but he doesn't really care about that quite so much - he heads over to Olive's and stands back after knocking, just trying not to seem at all nervous.