❝ PICKET FENCE! ❞ → GRAY ✓

→ iii.v

Act Three, Scene Five

→ ❝ will you marry me! ❞

             "Let's get married." Michael sat up suddenly, startling Carol who was having fun tracing shapes on his bare chest with her finger. "Let's go to the church today and get married. Before I go and get John and Esme and the kids."

             Carol had forgotten that Tommy had instructed Michael to bring John down to Small Heath. The pair of them hadn't slept much the night before, not for reasons that Carol's mother would categorise as sinful, but because they had so much to talk about. Carol found out that Linda had given birth to a healthy baby boy, Finn was almost literate, and – for reasons Michael wasn't ready to divulge – Tommy hadn't seen most of the family for almost two years.

             "Is that even allowed?" Carol knitted her eyebrows together, sitting up in confusion, "Can you just get married because you want to?"

             "You're nearly twenty. I'm twenty one. We can do what we want now," Michael replied, and Carol wondered how they both managed to get so old. It only seemed like yesterday that they were fifteen and sixteen, hiding from Carol's mother as they threw leaves at each other and munched on the Johnson's apples.

             A playful smile began to grow on Carol's lips, "Why do you want to get married today?"

             "It's this fucking vendetta, messing with our heads. We don't know what's going to happen to us, might as well say 'fuck it' to your mother and tie the knot at last. And perhaps it's because I fucking love you."

             "And you want to do that today?"

             "Fuck sake!" Michael swore, jumping onto his knees and causing the bed to wobble. He took Carol's hand in his, squeezing it gently, and raised his voice so loud that she was sure the neighbours would have heard him, "Carol Goodwin, will you marry me?!"

             Carol threw her head back in excitement, giggling at how extravagant he was being, "Yes! I will!"

             Michael pulled her from the bed, catching her before her half asleep legs could send her sprawling onto the floor. He spun her around, kissing her neck before placing her down on the carpet and holding her steady while the world caught up with her. Carol ran towards the wardrobe and threw her favourite suit of Michael's at him (a grey one, with a red tie) and strictly instructed him to get out with a smack on the head when he wouldn't stop kissing her along her arms and back.

             It had been twenty minutes since Michael had finished getting dressed (he had retreated downstairs to put on his suit), and he could still hear Carol humming the wedding march as she got herself ready. He imagined her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes as she chose a dress and spritzed herself with perfume, smiling at herself in the mirror while she fancied herself as Mrs Gray-To-Be.

             "Oh, hurry up, Carol," Michael shouted up the stairs as he straightened his tie and slicked down his hair in a downstairs mirror. He dug his hand around in his coat pocket, making sure that the little box was still safely inside, "Mum will be back by the time you're ready!"

             Carol emerged not long after swearing at him, blushing as Michael's eyes raked over her body. Her cream dress flowed gently over her body, and the light shining behind her made her seem like an angel descending from heaven. Her neatly styled hair was adorned with pink and blue flowers that Michael recognised to be the ones from the vase in their bedroom, and a smile quickly set onto her features.