I'll tell you something about tears.

When girls cry, it doesn't look like that single teeny tiny trail that the girls in movies cry. No when girls cry in reality it's ugly to put it in simple terms. The tears are thick salty little blobs that run down a girl's face in an unstopping motion. Mascara and eyeliner runs in movies? Those are nothing next to the real thing. The whole thing is just scary. I mean, crying is bad enough, your eyes are all swollen, your nose is runny and you just look bad. Add mascara into the equation and... It's just bad.

Black stains take up the whole of your cheek in some instances, and in others, where the girl rubs her eye, it smears to make her look like a raccoon, and we're not talking Kardashian raccoon, that's good raccoon, sort of. Crying raccoon, not so much.

The point was, I was crying ugly mascara smearing sobs in my crappy apartment above a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown, New York city.

It was stupid really; my boyfriend of 2 years, Edward Cullen was a corporate golden boy and me, well I was a mousy little editor with my little corner office at Little Brown Publishing. I was happy, even if the hours were a little insane, the coworkers a little too flamboyant and the place reeked of a serious case of B.O.

Nonetheless I was still happy.

My boss, a man in his late 40's with a beer belly, a bad haircut with a bad comb over to go with said bad hair cut, was a no nonsense kind of man. It mad sense considering his father and father in law were both military men, or so I heard.

My boss, Mr. Andrews, was the kind that liked to pick on me to work late, generally on Thursdays, and as a general rule Edward and I usually made plans to stay in at either his or my apartment. Usually his TribeCa apartment.

Either way, today being a Thursday, I was asked to work late. Leaving Edward a text, I set about finishing what I was doing. Coming home to my apartment, which, yes, smelled like Chinese food, I was expecting Edward with his feet propped up, eating his portion of Chinese food right out of the container, watching whatever sport seemed to be of interest that night. What I didn't expect was Edward still clad in his business attire, pacing a hole in the floor and pulling his hair out.

The hour after I did get home was probably could be the start of World War 3. Things were thrown, accusations were made, and colourful language was used. The topic of the spat - to put it mildly- was that we were supposed to go out for dinner, and I was late so we couldn't go. That made no sense considering it was a Thursday. It was bad, and when he finally left I finally collapsed into tears, ugly mascara running down your face, tears.

When they finally did stop I got up shakily on my feet only to have them give out. I sat back down before heaving myself up and trudged to the bathroom. I looked worse than Frankenstein's bride.

Grabbing a tissue, I started cleaning myself up. It didn't help the redness of my nose or how blood shot my eyes looked though.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know whether to talk to him or let him cool off, this was our first major fight, all over something so stupid. And I hated it. Once I had gotten my makeup off, I washed my face. I dried my face and looked up only to find Edward standing there, watching me. I gasped at his sudden presence, shocked at his closeness. He didn't say anything. He just watched me silently.

Suddenly anger flared up inside me. I threw the towel in the hamper and shrugged past him.

"Bella." He said softly reaching out to grab my arm. "Don't Bella me." I spat at him. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Baby, please." I huffed.

"You don't get to do that, you aren't the only one who's upset that I had to work, okay? I was just as upset and I come home hoping to bitch about my stupid boss to you and what do you do? You jump down my throat, especially today of all days, I was having a bad day and you made it worse." It was a low blow when it came to his standards, I know, but I wasn't exactly in the best of moods. As I continued my tirade, stomping around the entire space that my minuscule apartment allowed, I shredded my clothes and unsuccessfully searched for something to wear.

My corporate golden boy had spent many evenings watching me do the same thing, only for us to fall into bed moments after he would grab me roughly and kiss me with so much passion that it made my head spin.

I noticed he had changed; basketball shorts and a faded t shirt. His uniform lounging outfit. I whipped my blouse over my head and unhooked my bra as I entered my bedroom. He stood in the doorway watching me with hungry eyes. His shorts did little to hide his obvious arousal.

I didn't care; right now it wasn't my problem. I didn't even know what his problem was. He pulled his shirt over his head as he pushed off the door frame and stalked towards me. I paused my searching, wringing my hands together.

It wasn't everyday that dominant Edward came out, but when he did, he left me thoroughly aroused and always wanting more.

"I've had a terrible day too." He murmured as he pushed his shorts off his hips, revealing no boxers.

His cock bounced once against his stomach before he caught it in his grip and stroked from the base to the head. His thumb swiped over the precum at the head and his closed his eyes for a brief second before he opened them again, focusing on me. I gasped at the lust swimming in his eyes which were now nearly black.

"Take the panties off." He ordered in a calm voice, barely raising his voice over a whisper. I trembled in need, slipping my panties off as he continued stroking his cock, watching me.

"Lay down on the bed." He murmured. I laid down obediently watching him as he followed me. He slid in across the bed from me, situating my legs so that my feet were on either side of his hips. He was so close but so far away.

"Touch yourself, touch your breasts." He ordered as his voice grew husky. I pulled one hand up to my breast and squeezed, moaning at the sensations it sent through me.

"Touch yourself. Bella." He ordered again, resting his hands on my legs, pulling me closer to him.

My free hand trailed over my abdomen down my waist and to my slick entrance. He groaned as he watched me part my folds and slip my fingers into my entrance. He groaned and abruptly stood up, still hard and looked down at me with a fierce look on his face. Realizing that I was still supposed to be mad at him, I spurred him on by pulling my fingers away from my entrance and into my mouth. I sucked on my juices and moaned loudly, closing my eyes.

Before I could even anticipate what was going to come, he had jerked my body so that my lower half was nearly hanging off the bed and buried his face between his legs. His tongue lapped at my juices as he plunged 2 fingers into me. I cried out half in ecstasy, half in shock as my fingers flew into his hair. My hips rocked against him as he sucked on my clit, bringing me closer to my release.

"Edward." I chanted.

He moaned, and twisted his fingers, hitting my g spot, making me entire body clench before I exploded into waves and waves of pleasure. I continued with my rocking, tightly gripping his thick bronze locks as I road out my orgasm. His name fell from my lips in a chant as he continued lapping at me until I collapsed against the bed in an exhausted heap.

He rose up and shifted me so that I was lying against the pillows and kissed me, allowing me to taste myself on his lips. His lips moved to the sensitive skin behind my ear as he pulled my leg over his shoulder and pushed into me in once swift, hard thrust. The headboard hit the wall as I gasped.

"You know why I was mad earlier?" he asked in that hoarse voice as he pulled out halfway and thrust again, making the headboard hit the wall, again.

"I had it all set up, I would take you out to dinner, and then we'd watch a band playing in Central Park." He rested his forehead against mine, forcing me to keep my eyes open as he thrust into me at a continued pace.

The headboard continued to hit the wall as I shifted my hips to keep in rhythm with him. His hand smoothed over the leg that was thrown over his shoulder, his fingers dancing over my inner thigh. That caused my body to shudder in a good way. He noticed, and a small smile graced his lips.

"And then what?" I asked in an embarrassingly breathy voice followed by a drawn out moan as he shifted his hips, hitting me at a new angle.

"Then we'd go for a walk, around Central Park." He said with a groan, letting out a breath that washed over my face. "I'd find a secluded spot, and we'd make out like teenagers." I giggled, making him moan again.

"And then?" I asked as I reached up to kiss his jaw.

"And then I'd ramble about how fucking beautiful you are…fuck….and then I would have told you that…I wanted to make more memories." He whispered as he thrust into me at a frenzied pace.

I matched the rhythm of my hips to his, feeling another orgasm coming on. His hands dug into my hips as he thrust into me roughly. I cried out, clutching onto his shoulders as I came, with him following me after he thrust into me once more.

We collapsed onto the bed, panting and sweaty, trying to catch our breath. He rolled off of me a minute later and pulled the sheets over our heated bodies and pulled me closer. "And…then?" I asked panting in between words.

"And then I'd kiss you again because you'd look…so beautiful." I ran my hand over his bicep, trying to hide the small smile that had the corner of my mouth curved up.

"That would lead to us hailing a cab because, I'm well, irresistible and you'd want to get me naked as soon as possible." I giggled, smacking my arm.

No matter how much I loved dominant Edward, I loved my dorky corporate golden boy just a little bit more. But don't tell him that.

"And we'd have mind blowing sex, and just as you come, I'd ask you to marry me, again, and you'd cry out yes, though if that's from the orgasm or my proposal still would remain a question. Either way, they'd both be from me and you wouldn't be able to take it back so you'd have to marry me." he rambled.

"All this just so you could ask me to marry you, again?" I asked brushing my hand over his forehead, musing the hair that was plastered there from sweat.

He blushed, and rolled onto his back and fished in the nightstand drawer and pulled out the all too familiar Tiffany's box.

In the two years that we had been together he had proposed 6 times. Each time I had an excuse ranging from the fact that we were too young to that we needed stable jobs and even that we hadn't even moved in together.

All those made no sense now, he was 28 and I 26, ready to settle down, we both had stable jobs and we were moving into an apartment that we had gotten together in Soho next month.

"You don't have any excuses this time; do me the honor of being my wife. Please." "What no big speech this time?" I asked softly, buying time.

He shot me an annoyed glare and then pulled us both into a sitting position and arranged the sheets around us before taking my hand.

"Isabella Marie Swan, I swear if you don't say yes this time I'm drugging you and taking you to Vegas." He said with an exasperated sigh.

The corners of his lips curved up making mine do so too.

"But all joking aside, I want to be married to you, badly, I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know that. And I want children, with you. Baby, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Now please, please, marry me?" he even had an adorable pout.

"Okay." He blinked.

"Yes?" I nodded.

"Yes." I repeated sliding into his lap.

"You said yes." He murmured as my lips neared his.

"I want my ring, Cullen." I whispered against his lips.

"Oh, right." He laughed to himself and situated the stunning emerald cut ring onto my ring finger then tilted my face up to his.

"You said yes." He repeated.

I nodded. "We're engaged." I whispered.

"Finally." He breathed before he closed the distance, kissing me softly.

We laid back down, and made sweet love slowly, a big contrast to our previous encounter.

"I don't think you've come so quickly." He murmured as he nuzzled my neck afterwards. I ran my hand up his back, still getting used to the weight of my new jewelry.

"Not even when I went all dominant on you." He murmured.

I smiled. "I guess it's not as sexy as you thought it was." I said stifling a giggle. He scowled at me before not being able to resist and swooped down to kiss my mouth again. "I was sexy." He argued softly, pushing his hips against mine. I closed my eyes briefly, holding back a moan.

"While it won't be stripper sexy, it was sexy enough for me." I murmured in all seriousness.

"I think I would make a good male stripper." He boasted. I growled. He chuckled. "Perhaps only for your eyes then."

"Are you sure you want to get married? It's a big commitment." I murmured stroking his cheek.

He kissed my fingers before holding them against his chest.

"Of course, I love you."

"I love you too." I replied automatically.

In that moment I saw how much he loved him, and hoped he saw that I loved him just as much.

A fresh round of tears filled my eyes at the thought of being so happy, I had never been this deliriously happy before I had met Edward and now the happiest of my memories included him.

"Hey don't cry." He whispered kissing my tears.

These tears weren't ugly tears that girls cry with all the bad make up. These tears were tears of joy and they happened to be beautiful.

"I'm happy." I murmured as I cleared my throat and wove my fingers into his hair.

He smiled and kissed me gently.

"You said yes." He murmured chuckling.

I giggled, rolling my eyes.

Yeah, tears meant a lot in my world, so did saying yes.