John froze just inside the laundry room door when he realised the room was already occupied. It wasn't that he didn't like Rose Tyler, or resented time spent with her. The exact opposite, actually. He'd met Rose the day she moved in and been instantly smitten with her.

Her teasing smile and warm greeting when he'd bumped into her on the stairs as she carried a load of things to her new flat had drawn him in. Before he knew it, he'd shelved his own admittedly lacklustre plans for the day in favour of helping her move in.

Over the next few hours, he'd discovered that in addition to being gorgeous, Rose was clever with a sharp wit that more than matched his own. They'd traded so many jokes and puns that her mum had muttered something under her breath about "not knowing she was there for comedy hour."

It had been the best day of his month, but apparently it hadn't made any impact on Rose at all. He hadn't seen her for the rest of the week, and when they bumped into each other on the stairs the next weekend, she'd simply nodded at him, then walked past him to collect her post.

It wasn't like he expected anything in return. He hadn't helped her in hopes of getting her number, or a date. But not even warranting a hello was a blow, he had to admit.

And now they were going to be stuck together in the laundry room for at least an hour. He was half tempted to turn around and do his laundry later, but he had classes to teach the next day and all of his shirts were dirty.

Rose looked up from her book when he stepped fully into into the room. Her warm brown eyes lit up as her lips stretched into the same wide smile that had captivated him two weeks ago. Despite knowing she wasn't interested, his heart still beat faster when the tip of her tongue peeked out from behind her teeth.

He returned the smile with one of his own, then dropped his basket on the floor in front of the two washers. Pretend she's just another stranger, he told himself as he loaded his shirts into the unit.

"You're John, right?"

Still bent over his basket, John's head swivelled over so he could see Rose. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth—she looked shy, he realised.

"John Smith? The landlady's nephew? Sarah Jane talks about you all the time." Rose ran her hand through her blonde hair. "I'm Rose—Rose Tyler."

John stood up and raked his hand through his hair. "You know Aunt Sarah?"

Rose nodded. "She's on the board of the community centre where I teach art. That's how I found out about the empty flat here."

John frowned when she played with the hem of her shirt. Rose looked nervous, but that made no sense. They knew each other, at least a little bit.

She took a breath and looked up at him again. "I saw you on the stairs the other day, and I've been trying to find a way to say hi."

For a split second, John was hurt that their first meeting apparently had been so forgettable to her. But for once, his quick mind worked faster than his gob—Rose wasn't acting like someone who hadn't cared about meeting him.

He pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. "Rose," he said, speaking slowly. "We've already met."

Rose's brows knit together when she wrinkled her nose. She looked absolutely adorable as she tried to figure out what he meant, and John tried not to let his hopes build again.

"No, we haven't," she corrected.

John felt the first hint of a smile curve up the corners of his mouth. "Yes, we have," he said calmly. "I helped you move in."

The first hint of doubt entered Rose's eyes, but she met his gaze head-on. "How do I know you're not making that up?" she asked.

It was a fair question. John knew lots of blokes would press an advantage like that, given the opportunity. He thought for a moment, then grinned at her. "Your mum's name is Jackie, and she is the most intimidating woman I have ever met."

Rose groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, my god," she mumbled. "You were there that day, and I just… completely forgot." She rubbed her hands over her face for a moment, then looked up at him. "I'd been sick for days," she explained. "I took all kinds of cold medicine that day, just to be able to get out of bed and move around. I don't remember hardly anything about moving, and then I was stuck in bed for almost a week after, recovering."

Relief made John giddy, and he just barely held back a giggle as he rocked back on his heels. "And here I thought you were just ignoring me."

She shook her head quickly. "God, I'm so mortified," she moaned. "You spent the whole afternoon helping me move in, and I didn't even say hello on the stairs that day. You must have thought I was the rudest person on the planet."

John shook his head seriously. "Absolutely not." He smirked at her. "There are over seven billion people on the planet; I knew there had to be at least one more rude than you."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Well, I can make it up to you," she said, jumping to her feet. "Get your laundry started, and then we're going out for chips." She raised an eyebrow. "You do like chips, right?"

"Why do I have a feeling that our entire friendship rests on my answer to this question?" John mused, giggling when she stuck her tongue out at him. "I love chips. Give me a minute, and I'll be ready to go."

(Almost) one year later…

John climbed the last flight of stairs to the third floor flat he shared with Rose. Before opening the door, he shifted the bags he was carrying to his left hand and patted his jeans pocket, making sure the ring was still tucked securely away. Then he unlocked the door and swept his gaze over the living room as he stepped inside.

"Rose?" he called out when he didn't see her in the living room.

She poked her head out of the kitchen. "I was just getting something to drink with dinner," she told him, holding up a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Are we going up to the roof?"

"Yep!" John said as he opened the door to the stairs.

When they'd decided to move in together shortly after Christmas, it was the private access to the rooftop terrace that had convince Rose to climb two more flights of stairs every day. Tonight, the balmy late summer weather made it the perfect place to relax after a long week of work.

"So," Rose teased while he set their supper down on the patio table. "I know I love chips, but when you said you were bringing home something special for supper, I thought you meant something a little fancier than fish and chips. What's the special occasion, anyway?"

John's hands shook a little, and he shoved them into his pockets, wrapping his right fist around the ring. "Rose Tyler!" he said, trying to sound scandalised, "I'm shocked you don't remember! Today, August 27, is our anniversary."

Rose frowned for a moment, then she shook her head at him. "Of our actual first meeting, I suppose." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Are you ever going to let me forget that I didn't remember that?"

John bounced on his toes. "Nope!" He gestured to the dinner set out on the table. "But I did also commemorate our first date."

Rose chuckled. "That's right. We had chips."

They shared a smile as they both remembered that night, and how they'd both been so smitten by the end of the evening that they'd walked home hand-in-hand. John had brushed a kiss over her cheek when he said goodbye in front of her door, and he'd gone to bed that night thankful for second chances at first impressions.

Then John took a deep breath and pulled his hands out of his pockets. "And…" He swallowed. "This seemed like the perfect moment…" Rose gasped when he carefully dropped to one knee and held the ring out to her. John reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb over hers.

"Rose Tyler, one year ago today, I spent a hot Saturday afternoon helping you move into your flat. You might not remember that day, but we have a lifetime of other memories we can make together. Will you marry me?"

There were tears in Rose's eyes when she nodded, then leaned forward and pressed her lips to John's. He sighed when her hands raked through his hair and scooted forward on his knees to wrap his arms around her waist.

"I love you," he mumbled against her lips.

She broke the kiss with golden laughter. "I love you, too." Then she held out her hand.

John stared at her wiggling fingers for a moment, before he remembered he still had the ring. "Oh!" He slid the diamond solitaire onto her finger, then watched her anxiously as she looked at the ring. "Do you like it?"

Rose beamed at him. "I love it." Then her smile turned cheeky, teasing him with her tongue. "I don't think I'll ever forget this August 27."