Under the Moonlight

 "They didn't have the red ones, just black," you say, ducking your head when you pass through the tent. With two packages of instant ramen in hand, you take a seat on the nearby folded camp chair.

"That's fine. I told you not to worry too much," Arin says as she keeps staring at the flickering flames, throwing in a log once you're near. "I like the black ones better. Less spicy."

You take it all in as she opens a packet, pouring it into the boiling water while the fire crackles. It's the perfect spot despite the ache in your legs that tries to tell you otherwise. The dark blue river, the luscious trees, the night sky full of stars.

The next packet goes in but not without a fight, Arin tearing it with her teeth and giggling after.

"Forgot you can't do spicy."

Arin glances over to you, shaking her head as it starts to boil. "Never said that. I like a little spice, just don't like my mouth on fire."

"As you keep saying every time we go anywhere with curry. You'd think by now you'd know—"

"Look, sometimes a girl wants to be adventurous."

"I don't think buldak is adventurous, more like suicidal."

"Stop being so dramatic," Arin whines, popping the lid off and pouring both seasoning packets in. "We tried it once, never again. Lesson learned."

Your head spins just thinking about how that one lunch date went. How many bottles of milk the two of you made the poor waitress fetch. How ridiculous and sweaty Arin got from only taking a sip, but still willing to fight until her tongue gave in.

"I'm not dramatic. I just don't like to see you suffer."

"Yet you still tease me over it. Every time." Arin lets out an exaggerated sigh that makes you laugh as she finishes stirring one last time, the steam starting to drift away once the pot cools.

"Maybe I get a little enjoyment seeing you ignore your own limits. Poor little Arin defeated by a bowl of spicy noodles—"

"Listen." Arin turns, grabbing one of the bowls next to you. "If we all lived up to our limits, how would anything exciting happen? "

She lets a little laugh escape before holding out a bowl for you to accept. And the aroma takes no time to hit, the noodles looking so deliciously perfect.

"Fair. I'll give you that."

"Thank you," Arin murmurs, blowing over her ramen before attempting a bite. "Fuck, that's good."

"Language."

Arin rolls her eyes. "Oh, the pot is calling the kettle black."

"Is the kettle too spicy?" you tease, bringing the noodles up to your mouth and slurping. "Fuck, you're right. This is so good."

"Language!"

Her cute little giggle rings through the cool air, a sound so innocent and addictive it puts a stupid grin on your own lips.

"If we never tried new things, I'd never convince you to do what you don't wanna do," Arin says with a loud, obnoxious slurp.

"Convince me to do what?"

Arin sighs. She looks around, at the spot picked out specifically by her and filled with gear, not a person for miles. "This. Here."

"Ramen?"

She groans, slurping up more broth. "Hiking. Outdoor stuff, nature, away from everything—I get that it's not your thing, but I'm glad you said yes."

"Would never say no to a trip with you. Lead me down a volcano for all I care. Anywhere, so long as we're together."

The softest smile grows on Arin's lips, as you take a few more bites and she just watches with amusement. "Careful. If you don't stop being so sweet, I might have to marry you."

And it takes a moment for you to even remember how to breathe at that. A moment that you spend staring at her, at the sudden gleam in those dark eyes.

"I'll allow it, maybe."

You pretend to not notice the pink shade across her cheeks as you finish your last slurp of noodles, setting the empty bowl to the side.

"Is that so? I'll take a maybe," Arin says, leaning over towards you. "Even if it meant a little adventure?"

"Be my forever adventure, Arin."

"What kind of adventure are we talking here? A nice house with a yard, a dog, no—three dogs," she says, caressing a hand over your cheek as you get lost in her gaze.

"Three?"

She looks deep in thought and nods. “Yes, three. A cat too."

"In the same house? That's a lot of pet hair."

Arin laughs again and her breath feels warm against your skin. "Okay, maybe not three. Maybe one dog. one cat, in the middle of the forest with nobody around. And I mean no neighbors for miles."

"I can get behind that. But if you get cats and dogs I want a pool. One the size of Mars. Heated and everything."

"Big trees too?" she asks, thumb brushing along your cheek.

"Sounds perfect to me. One dog, one cat, a pool, one forest—and one Arin."

Her eyes glimmer with excitement as she pulls you into a kiss. "Only one?"

"Is there more than one?"

"As far as you're concerned? No."

"Then, we're all set."

Arin gives your lips one last peck. "Marry me?"

"No ring? So unorthodox."

"Hmm, forgot it," she says, looking around for a way out. "Give me a second—"

And before you can even object, Arin grabs one of the empty beer cans nearby, yanking off the pull tab until it comes off, sliding the strip of metal over your ring finger. "There we go. Marry me?"

"How can I refuse something so romantic? Yes, Arin, I'll fucking marry you, and we'll live in the woods with our pets and we won't even know what civilization is."

"Language!" Arin scolds.

"Sorry, love. Guess I'll have to learn to watch it before our wedding night."

"Wedding night, huh? Like the sound of that."

"Yeah, me too."