1994
“Leave the band?” William asked.
“Yeah. Form our own group. Hell, we don’t necessarily need to do it right away, if you don‘t want to. But I fully intend to leave, whether you want to or not.”
“What brought this on, mate?”
Angel shrugged, “I feel like it’s well past time to grow, musically. And we’re kinda stuck in a rut with this band. I’ve been wanting to write my own stuff. I thought that’s what the rest of the band wanted, too, but… all they seem to really want to do is play some AC/DC songs.”
William smirked, “Yeah, noticed that.”
Angel laughed. “Hey, have you ever tried writing any lyrics?”
That was another thing they discussed when they first met. When he learned of William’s penchant for writing, especially poetry, Angel surprisingly didn’t laugh and poke fun at William as so many other guys did. Instead, he encouraged William to try his hand at writing lyrics.
You never know, Angel had said, there might be a few songs in him just dying to get out.
William was surprised at how naturally it seemed to come to him. Though he hadn’t shown anyone yet, not even Buffy, he felt confident in himself.
“Yeah, lil’ bit. Depends on my inspiration, yeah?” He looked across the club at Buffy and could not stop the smile that came across his face as he watched her animated conversation with Dawn.
Angel caught it and followed William’s gaze. “So, uh…did you finally get it?” He found it somewhat awkward talking about something that wasn’t music-related with the man beside him. They did it so infrequently.
“Wha’? Oh, yeah. Took several of my paychecks from the music store, but I got it.”
************
So, demand for Red Edge wasn’t great. William didn’t really care. After the talk he had with Angel about possibly splitting from the band, the two of them started to spend some of their free time working together, combining William’s lyrics to Angel’s music. William also finally told Buffy about his lyrical writings and even let her read some of them. Sometimes he even sang them to her.
She liked that…
William smiled as he watched Buffy talk spiritedly with her fellow art history majors.
“I’m telling you. I don’t care what Brisson’s so-called measurements say. There is no way that Francesca’s egg is a chicken egg. All you have to do is look at the perspective of the painting and you can tell it’s way too big. An ostrich egg makes much more sense. Especially considering the history around their donation to churches,” Buffy said adamantly.
One of the girls she was talking with spoke, “What if it’s not an egg at all. What if it’s a pearl.”
Buffy contemplated the girl’s theory, “Yeah. I can see that possibility. The giant shell. The purity of a pearl. Definitely makes more sense than a chicken egg. What’s holy about that?” She gave a small laugh.
She was so passionate. Passionate about everything. Art, life, love, him.
Yes, he could admit that she truly did feel the same as he did for her. But, still, was it too soon?
His hand gripped the velvet box hidden in his pocket. He had it for weeks, after spending several more weeks saving up for it. Now, all he had to do was pluck up the courage and ask her. But, what would she say? Yes, they were only twenty-one. Most people would say that was too young. Hell, they were still in college, albeit for only one more year.
He did know, though, that he couldn’t imagine life without her.
She was it for him. She was the one.
Okay, he thought, now how do I ask her? Could he do it here, right now, in front of her friends? Should he wait until tonight at the club, ask her on stage? Or, when they’re alone? And, how should he ask her? Should he go the traditional route and get down on one knee? Should he have it literally written in the sky?
Damn it, why was it so bloody hard? He should just do what came naturally. Except… he didn’t go around proposing everyday.
William watched almost helplessly as Buffy noticed him, smiled lovingly, bid farewell to her friends, and made her way towards him.
“Hey,” Buffy said.
“What are they teaching you in that class? First the Devil and sex and now chicken eggs?”
She smiled. “First, the Devil and sex were for a different class. And it’s just iconography. Nothing more,” she finished, leaning up to kiss him.
He moaned into the kiss, deepening it, not caring they were in the middle of the corridor as fellow students watched with interest as they made their ways to classes.
“Marry me,” he whispered against her lips.
Surprised, Buffy tore her lips from his, “W-What?”
Okay, so this was it. He could try to change the subject, make her forget what he just said. Or, he could go though with it. Well…he started it, so…he might as well finish it, right? He just hoped he wouldn’t make a fool of himself in front of everyone else.
He cleared his throat. With his hand slipping into his pocket, he took a small step back and found himself down on one knee. He was vaguely aware of everyone stopping to watch the show in front of them; he was focused on Buffy.
Her breathing increased as her anxiety slowly took hold. “William?” she asked shakily. “What…what is this?”
He pulled the precious velvet box from his pocket. He looked down at it, contemplating his words. “Buffy, luv, um…I know it’s probably too early and everything. But…” he swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to get the rest of the words out. He took the ring out of the box and heard the gasp of Buffy, as well as several other female students. “But, it…it would make me the happiest man on earth if you’d marry me.” He held the ring out, hand shaking as he awaited her response.
“Will…”
Her hesitation nearly killed him. Of course, his inner voice chided, you’re going to make a huge fool out of yourself. He moved to get up, “It’s okay. It’s too ear-”
“Of course, it’s yes!” Buffy exclaimed, a huge smile on her face.
William was surprised for a moment, not sure he heard correctly. “Yes?”
Buffy nodded, her eyes tearing up. “Yes,” she whispered.
A huge grin broke out on his face as he stood and slipped the ring on her finger. She threw her arms around him and he returned the hug with equal fervor. Buffy pulled back enough to pull him into a deep kiss, heedless to the cheers they were both receiving from the gathering crowd.
END CHAPTER THREE
A/N: The argument Buffy is having pertains to a Renaissance painting by Piero della Francesca’s Montefeltro Altarpiece. And it’s a real argument that art historians have had. Is it a chicken or ostrich egg? It’s quite amusing how nasty the scholars would get towards each other in their articles.