Xenolith

Part 1

It was early evening and Angie and Rollie had just returned to the loft after a grueling eighteen-hour shoot. Almost nothing had gone right. First, the actors kept missing their cues so some scenes had to re-done several times. Then, one of their winches had jammed, leaving a stuntman dangling 30 feet in the air for an hour while they worked frantically to fix it. Even the simplest effect of the day, a little smoke, was a major chore. The director decided gray wasn't right for the scene. He made them produce blue smoke. That still wasn't right so he tried red. But that wasn't what he wanted either. The director shot the scene countless times, each with a different colour. After all that, he decided gray was the best choice after all. By this time, Rollie could have strangled him. Due to his inability to make a decision, they had gone six hours over schedule. Normally, that wouldn't have been anything unusual, or unexpected, but Rollie had plans for that evening. Big plans. He supposed his nervousness was why minor delays got him so agitated, but he couldn't help it. He'd made his plans a while back, and now they were ruined. He just hoped he'd be able to salvage something. He didn’t think he could live like this too much longer. Rapidly, he thought of a different course of action. It wouldn't be perfect but it would work. He though Angie would like it. When he though more about it, he decided she might even like it better than his original idea. He couldn't wait.

The day's events left the two special effects artists tired but still too wound up to sleep. Briefly, they considered fixing themselves a meal, but decided against it. Food wasn't a top priority at the moment. By mutual decision, they collapsed on the couch, in each other’s arms, thinking about the day they just had and the night they were about to have. Angie suspected something was up. Rollie had been acting different all day. He was snapping at people, being rude or abrupt, and being a real grouch. That afternoon, people had even started avoiding him, afraid he would vent his anger on them. It was so unlike him, she had rarely seen him like that before. She was tempted to ask him what was wrong, but knew he would tell her when he felt like it. She also wasn't sure she wanted to know. Besides, his mood seemed to have improved greatly in the past hour.

Even though the sun had started to setting, it was sending the final rays of golden light into the loft, there wasn't enough light to see by. "Blue, lights," Rollie called out. Immediately, the lights came on, dimly, providing just enough illumination for them to see each other and the rough outline of the furnishings.

"Blue, music," he requested, and a slow, relaxing, romantic melody filled the air.

Gracefully, Rollie stood up and moved so he was in front on Angie. Silently, he outstretched his hand towards her, wordlessly inviting her to dance. Looking up, Angie noticed how the muscles in his chest moved beneath his black T-shirt. She also noticed how sexy he looked with his hair mused like that. She gently chastised herself, he wasn't just a pretty face; his mind was quite interesting as well.

Drowsily, she stood and went into his awaiting arms. They slow danced around in the loft, feeling silly but enjoying, and savoring, every second. Gradually, as the music slowed down, they kept time and slowed down, until they were just barely swaying back and forth to the beat. He kept Angie's head tucked under his chin. Her eyes were closed, reveling in his closeness. How she loved the way he felt pressed against her body, how safe and secure she felt with his arms wrapped around her. His presence, his smell, everything about him was pure Rollie and she wouldn't change anything, even if she could.

They continued to slow until they were stationary. They remained motionless, clinging to each other for several long minutes. Then Angie felt Rollie pull away from her. Missing his warmth, she opened her eyes and was about to protest. Before she could get the words out, she noticed Rollie, on a bent knee, in front of her. He still had her hand clasped in his. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small royal blue velvet box. Deftly, he opened it, and turned it around so she could see the contents. It was a ring; an engagement ring to be precise. She was speechless. The ring was one of the most beautiful she had ever seen in her life. It was solid gold with diamonds and emeralds in an intricate pattern set into the band. The gemstones were flush with the gold, ensuring she could wear it while she was working, at least for the majority of the effects work. She forced her eyes away from the ring and re-directed them onto Rollie. Oh, how she loved him. The expression on his face was a combination of nervousness tinged with anxiety. Love, desire, and respect were just a few of the emotions and feeling visible in his eyes.

Her insides quivered, tears welled in her eyes and her knees went weak. Was he going to…? He wasn’t, was he? Was he really…? This couldn’t be happening. He took a shaky breath, then stared into Angie’s face. In a strong, confident voice, he asked, "Angela Ramirez, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"