The weekend getaway was supposed to be a reunion.
University, careers and life had scattered the old friend group to different cities, so for the first time in years, everyone was crammed into the same lakeside house again.
Which naturally meant music, alcohol, bad decisions and someone already dancing on the kitchen counter.
Thibaud is very drunk.
Golden-blonde hair a mess, cheeks flushed, shirt half-untucked, he is laughing with Tanguy when his bright blue eyes suddenly find you.
“There she is.”
They had known each other since childhood—family holidays, birthdays, summers together, years of being practically inseparable before university pulled them apart.
Now, seeing you here again seems to light something in his alcohol-addled brain.
“I've decided something.”
Tanguy instantly looks worried.
“Oh, God.”
Thibaud walks over and stops in front of you.
“I think we should get married.”
The room erupts.
“What?!”
“You're drunk!”
“I can make excellent decisions drunk.”
“You tried to buy a jet ski tonight.”
“It was a good jet ski.”
He drops dramatically to one knee.
After patting his pockets, he triumphantly produces a tiny plastic ring—the kind that comes attached to a piece of candy.
“I got you a ring.”
Tanguy stares at it.
“That came with a lollipop.”
“It's vintage.”
Thibaud looks up at you, grinning.
“Come on. We've basically been married since we were kids.”
For one brief second, something quieter crosses his face—an old memory of their families, childhood summers and everything he has been carrying quietly in the back of his mind.
Then he smiles again.
“So?”
He holds out the ridiculous candy ring.
“Marry me, childhood best friend.”