Davy Jones knelt down on his knee and looked up at the beautiful, dark haired woman that sat in front of him. Her hair, dark and shiny, flowed down her head towards her back as if it were a waterfall. Her emerald eyes peered down at him with love.
Davy reached into his pocket, clasping a small, grey box. He nervously ran his thumb over the velvety soft cover, opened it slightly with a creak, and felt inside to be sure its contents were safe. They were, and he shut the box, bringing it out of his pocket. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead as he thought of what he wanted to say. He'd been rehearsing it for almost a whole week. Finally, he decided to just say it. And he did.
"Will you marry me?" Her whole face seemed to light up with joy as she smiled down at him.
"Oh, Davy," she breathed. "Of course I will."
Relief spread over his entire body. She had accepted him. Now he was the happiest little Englishman on Earth.
Since Davy had met Eliza, almost six months ago, his life had been so much happier. He'd been having those close intimate moments he'd always longed for. And now she'd be his forever.
Micky, Peter, were at the Pad. All three had picked up their instruments. Mike, guitar perfectly tuned, was standing in his spot and looking over the room, envisioning great audiences instead of an empty living room. Peter was humming slightly to himself , trying to tune his bass, which didn't sound quite right. And Micky was tapping out various random riffs on the cymbals.
"All right," Mike said, stepping off the bandstand and taking off his guitar. "It's been a half an hour, and he's still not here. That's the third time this week."
Peter looked at his watch. "I wonder where he is," he thought aloud, concern showing in his voice. "I hope that nothing's happened."
"Knowing Davy, the worst thing that could happen is he met a girl," Micky quipped, laughing at his own joke.
Just then, the door opened, and Davy bounded through, entering the Pad.
"Well, look who decided to show up, finally," Mike muttered sarcastically.
Davy either didn't hear or ignored Mike. "'Ey fellahs, guess what?" he asked, cheerfully.
"What?" all three asked at once, still rather annoyed by his tardiness.
"I'm gettin' married!" he replied twice as cheerfully.
"Really?"
"Davy, that's great!"
"She must be very happy!"
"So when's the big day?" Mike asked.
"One month from today. It's gonna be a grand party," Davy replied, grinning ear to ear. He whistled happily to himself and danced out of the room, heading for the beach.
