Superboys | Football Imagines

Yes // Marco Reus

Dedicated to -ranii

"I'm sad to inform you that this will be the very last stop on what has been an eventful and informative tour ma'am!" He lifts one of his long legs and hoists himself on to the ledge overlooking the city bustling that is Dortmund. One mistake and he'll be sent free-falling about twenty stories down. He paces the concrete banister leisurely, hands tucked into the depths of his slacks' pockets as if he's not mere inches from toppling over the side of this building, "Welcome to the top of the world Rani."

Of course the more technical side of me just yells at me to jut a hand out, pointing at the opposing building with a clever grin on my face.

"So if this is the top of the world why is that building taller?" I quip, hugging my coat closer to my shivering frame to block out the unforgiving winter breeze whipping up around us.

"In it's physical appearance that one might seem to hold more importance seeing as it's- well bigger, fancier and about ten times more modern but you're gonna remember this one and that one will become of zero importance to you." He explains with comical hand gestures and a knowing look on his handsome face.

"Yeah, and why is that?" I smile up at him.

"If I asked you to marry me right here, which which one would be held dearer to that cold heart of yours?" He hops down from the ledge and takes the spot beside me, hands still tucked away in his pockets

My eyebrows raise in his direction, breath getting caught in my throat momentarily, "What?"

"Tsk Rani I'm asking you to marry me. Why are you so slow?"

Is this a joke? Marco and I have been dating for three years now and he's always highlighted the fact he wasn't ready to get married or start a family just yet not that I minded but I did eventually wanna marry the man of my dreams. I refuse to take him seriously so I simply laugh it off and pull my coat collar up over my face to shield it from the cold nipping at my pale skin.

He suddenly grabs me and spins me around to face him, clutching a small, velvet box in his free hand. My heart begins to pick up speed and it's like I can hear my own pulse booming in my ears.

"I'm asking you to be my wife, stupid." He grins childishly as he hooks an arm around my waist to draw me closer to his solid build, "I was gonna get on my knee but that's kinda stupid and boring now I mean it is 2017."

"Marc-" My voice cracks evidently and there are hot tears threatening to pour down my cheeks any second now. For some reason I laugh despite my racing heart, this causes my voice to break and my tears to betray me by flowing out, much to Marco's amusement. Trust Marco to take the piss while he's fucking proposing and then laugh at me for crying too.

"Is this a joke?"

"Do you want it to be? Because I hear I can get a refund on this ring,"

Fast forward a couple of long months later and here I am, in my hotel room on my lonesome staring at my done up reflection with tears of disbelief and joy in my eyes. I can't help but think back to that autumn day when Marco asked me to be his wife on the rooftop of an old building amongst rusted vents and pipes. It was not what I imagined all those times when I zoned out and ended up back in daydream land where I'd constantly be drawing up conclusions as to how Marco would propose. There was a family dinner where everyone was expecting it apart from me, there was a picnic in city park where he was propped up on one knee with tears threatening his blue eyes but not once did I picture him cracking jokes in the cold before pulling out a ring and simply just handing it to me like a cheap piece of candy.

I don't regret how anything turned out though. In fact I'm ecstatic for the day when I can relive these days in stories when our kids asked how we fell in love and how their dad eventually proposed.

There's a light knock at my door and my mother enters with a soft smile on her aging face.

"It's time to go sweetheart."