It's when you're told no.

That's the clincher. You think everything's going to be alright and all the sudden you have everything you ever worked for, everything you ever dreamed for, snatched away before your very eyes as if it meant nothing. As if it wasn't the world to you.

It was the day you asked your ma if Dylan could come to Italy with you over the summer. Oh you had wanted it so bad you could almost taste it, cool, sweet, and lighter than air. Like a golden tendril of sunshine dancing on your tongue. And then she says no and the light disappates, that glowing smoke is gone, all that's left is dead, dark air. It tastes like dust.

It's not as if this request was a normal one. It was not as if it could have been so lightly cast aside as it had been.

You see, you had found the ring. Oh he didn't know it yet of course, but you had found it, buried in his sock drawer. So obvious really. It was a plain gold band, a single smooth diamond sunk in as if it were part of it. And it stayed there in that sock drawer, such an intimate place really if you thought about it, and it waited for you.

It was those leading questions that got you to thinking. The way he'd always ask where the sunset was the most beautiful in Rome. Where you liked to go to have fun. It was beyond obvious when he was going to ask. Painfully obvious even.

But you were told no.

And that ring is still sitting in that sock drawer while you pack. You can hear it, it's calling your name, seeking the words and seeking the warmth of your finger. It's calling out for the right moment.

But it was told no.

And it's not til you're at the airport, staring off into space and hating your mother so much. Your ma ruined the moment. She ruined the romance, the thought, the inspiration. She ruined it all.

That was until a strong hand grabbed your upper arm outside of customs. Behind you stands the man with the blue eyes and the blonde curls and the smile that's more brilliant than any sunset in the entire world. He's holding a small velvet box in one hand and you're surrounded by foreign people, all pushing and shoving and lugging large suitcases, mopping at their sweaty faces with dirty handkerchiefs and yelling at small misbehaving children. It's a three ring circus and you're right in the middle of it all...

You're right in the middle of it all with the man you love staring into your eyes.

And right there, right then, he's on one knee and he's saying things that you never thought you'd hear. Only they're hard to hear, over the roaring voices, and you're getting dirty looks as mothers cover their children's eyes. But...

But strangely...Marco was smiling. He was smiling like he'd never smiled before. Maybe because that sunshine was dancing on his tongue again. Or maybe it was the fact that for once...

For once the answer wasn't no.