She was standing under the tower. Her dark hair was longer and in a loose ponytail. I hadn't seen her in a semester, and my insides felt like a thousand butterflies taking off. Quick as a fox, I strode up behind her and covered her eyes with my hands. I felt like a guy in one of the romantic movies or books she indulges in when she's on her period. I felt her stiffen for a second before I put my lips to her ear and whispered, "je suis dans l'amour avec toi*, Adeline Beauchamp." I switched to English, "I missed you."
She relaxed back into my chest and laughed. "I didn't think I was in it by myself," she teased. "I thought you weren't getting in from London until tomorrow."
"I came home early," I spun her in my arms to face me.
"To see little ol’ me?"
"Yes," I said it very seriously, but being the lighthearted girl she was, Addie only laughed. She took everything as a joke and walked through life laughing and smiling 24/7. I loved her for it except when I was trying to be serious. 
"Well, I'm glad." She squeezed my waist.
"Addie," I started but stopped. All the words I rehearsed in my head took flight like the butterflies in my stomach.
"Yes," she prompted. Seeing her smile coyly at me through her lashes in my favorite dress of hers—the white one with red roses, I wanted so badly to just kiss her and erase all my awkwardness.
"I'm really am in love with you." I tightened my grip on her waist and my resolve. "And I have been since that first day I met you—"
"You read too many books, Sebastian," she rolled her eyes.
"You were wearing that dress, and I saw you taking notes on one of the paintings at the Louvre. I figured you were one of the art students, so you'd be there a while. I wanted to talk to you, but I was so nervous that I," I was sure I blushed a deep crimson, I couldn't believe I was telling her this, "followed you around all day trying to work up the courage to even approach you."
"Stalker much?" She punched my arm lightly, and I knew she was only joking.
"Then in the end, all I did was strategically place myself at the door so I could open it for you. I didn't think you'd give me the time of day, but you started up that conversation about I don't even remember what painting because I was just so happy that you were even talking to me."
She looked at me thoughtfully got a moment before saying, "Well, I did think you were kind of chivalrous opening the door for me."
"Ads, we're always in different places. You've been at McGill, and I'm at Cambridge. And you're only here to see your mom for a couple weeks at Christmas and in the summer. You haven't spent a semester here since that first time, and I just want us to be sure. My biggest fear is that with all the time we spend apart you might find its not worth it anymore, but for me, there will never be anyone else," I had been talking a hundred miles per hour trying to get to my point before she interrupted me again, but here I took a breath and dropped to my knee. "Adeline Beauchamp," I took out my grandmother's ring and smiled seeing her mouth drop open. "Will you marry me?"
It was just like a movie. She had her hands clasped at her mouth, astonished. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see both our moms and my grandmother crying. "There will never be anyone else for me either," she said and threw herself into my arms. Our lips crashed together, and I felt like I was soaring. When we broke apart we were both sitting on the sidewalk, laughing, and everyone around us was clapping. I took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her left ring finger. It was simple a diamond in a gold band, but I had the band engraved with roses.
"It's beautiful."
"Grandpa had good taste," I shrugged, but I was relieved that she liked it.
"The roses were a nice touch, though." She gave me a peck on the cheek. "Do you want to know a secret?"
"What?" I stood up and pulled her with me. Our families had given us a minute, but I could see that they were itching to come over.
She took both my hands and stared at her feet. "I saw you at the museum that day. Every time we were in the same room together, I secretly hoped you'd come talk to me, and we'd end up on a walking tour of Paris."
"You read too many books," I mimicked her earlier comment.
"Well then, it seems to me that we're perfect for each other." She raised herself up on her tiptoes inches from my lips. "Besides, we did end up walking Paris, so I guess we're in our own book."
"Ma chérie!"
She brushed her lips cross mine, lingering for only a second before turning around to talk to her mother. Our families swept us up in a storm of chatter and laughs and pictures, but the only thing on my mind was finishing that last kiss and our lives, together.

*For the 99% of you who probably don’t know French, the translation is “I’m in love with you.”