NIRVANA ↝ preferences

☾they propose [DAVE]

Dave had wanted to marry you from the day he'd met you. If he could have had it his way, he would have popped the question on the spot, hoping someone as beautiful as you would have loved him for even having the nerve to ask.

After a rehearsal with the band, Krist had pulled Dave aside while Dave lit a cigarette.

"Dave, you think you're gonna marry y/n one of these days?"

With the cigarette dangling between his lips, Dave remained silent, turning the idea over a few times in his head.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am actually," he'd responded, sounding very much more sure than his words let on.

With the small sum of money he'd accumulated from Nirvana, he went out and purchased a ring, his mind running wild with how he'd ask you the big question. Finally, he came up with an idea, one that really did in fact reflect his fun-loving nature.

On a random evening, Dave had secretively placed the small box containing your wedding ring on the top shelf of your fridge. His plan had a few simple steps to follow, but it required your participation.

"Hey, y/n, will you grab me a beer from the fridge?" Dave asked casually. You were splayed out on the couch, laying on your stomach with your face pressed into a pillow. A sleepy, drowsy feeling had started to overcome you as you both watched television.

"You get it," you grumbled.

"Come on, please? I don't want to miss this part!" he argued, gesturing towards the television.

"It's the same Tom & Jerry episode you've seen six times, Dave. Get your own beer," you retorted with finality, grabbing your pillow and rolling over.

Dave sat there gripping the remote, starting to panic that his plan was falling apart right in front of him.

"Seriously y/n, go to the damn fridge," Dave demanded in a low voice.

You'd finally had enough. You sat up, your hair a rats nest on your head. You slapped the pillow angrily and furrowed your brows at Dave, scowling.

"Since when are you such a misogynistic asshole who tells me what to do like I'm some sort of maid?" you snapped. Clearly, your lack of sleep had made you grumpier than Dave had prepared for.

Dave groaned, grabbing the nearest throw pillow and pressing it against his face as he collapsed backward into the couch.

"What the HELL is your problem?" you cried, throwing your own pillow at his limp body. He suddenly got up, marching himself to the kitchen. Serves him right, you thought to yourself.

He came back with no sign of a beer in his hand. Rounding around the couch, he walked straight up to you and tossed something in your lap. You fumbled to catch it, yelping when it slipped right in between your crossed legs.

"Damn kill joy," Dave muttered, flopping down on the couch and massaging his temple.

You squinted at the tiny box he'd thrown at you, holding it close to your face. Realization hit you like a freight train.

"Oh!" you squeaked. Dave raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

"Better than a beer, right?" he taunted.

You ignored the jab, gingerly opening the box and sucking in a deep breath of air when you saw the diamond ring nestled in between the velvet pillow. Tears sprung into your eyes, blurring your vision when the truth about what was happening finally came full circle in your head.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" you whispered.

Dave cracked a tiny smile. "Yeah, I am. Unless you say no. If you say no, then that is totally just a fancy piece of costume jewelry and absolutely not a wedding ring."

You crawled over to him, crying softly but still smiling as you nodded eagerly and slipped the ring on. "Yes. Yes, of course Dave."

He wrapped an arm around you, kissing your forehead. "So now will you get me a beer?" he teased. You playfully tapped his cheek, pretending to swipe at him.

"Totally kidding," he grinned.