Zhang Yixing sat on the edge of the sofa as he watched his boyfriend wander around the room. His eyes were filled with amusement as Wu Fan, or Kris, paced around the room. The brunette, that sat on the sofa, cradled his precious acoustic guitar in his arms, tapping against the wooden surface to an unnamed beat. Kris turned to him.

"Shh, Yixing," he told him.

Yixing blinked in surprise. What?

"You're breaking my train of thought with how cute you're being." he added.

"Cute?" Yixing repeated, cocking his head to the side.

Kris nodded, "Yes, cute. You're so cute."

Yixing's lips curled into a slight pout, "I'm not even doing anything cute, you liar."

Kris grinned cheekily at him, and slid onto the couch beside him. He pulled the younger into his lap — or at least he tried to, because Yixing struggled, and easily got away.

"I am not sitting in your lap, Wufan," he said, sternly.

It doesn't last very long — the resistance — because suddenly, the twenty three year old brunette was sitting in his tall, handsome boyfriend's lap; said boyfriend sporting a triumphant grin.

Kris took a deep breath, wishing to anyone and anything that he wouldn't screw this up, because if he did, not only would it be embarrassing, but Yixing would never let him live it down — if he chooses to even stay with the blonde twenty four year old.

"Baby," Kris cooed.

Yixing inwardly gagged at the tone used with him.

Kris had never been like this before he met Yixing. He had been completely rational as opposed to Yixing's (adorable) irrationality. He had been stoic, while Yixing was bubbly and cheerful. You could ask Park Chanyeol, Kris' best friend (read: adorable companion that likes to address himself as a best friend, because Kris had never taken the time to name their relationship, and the hyperactive orange haired man took it upon himself to do it), he would explain in full detail how much Yixing changed Kris. Of course, via the most dramatic ways (he'd be sitting in a rocking chair, pretending that he were old and talking to his grandchildren, because Chanyeol had been an acting major; "He'd stare at the cute brunette boy named Yixing, and sigh heartedly, eyes lovestruck, and longing to be able to wrap his arms around the younger man's waist, and ravish—" until Kris would cut him off out of embarassment, or frustration. But of course, Yixing would urge him to continue with his interesting improvised one man skit).

But, of course, Yixing had to answer anyway, "Yes?"

"I love you," Kris told him, nuzzling against him.

Yixing smiled softly at that, because although Kris was undoubtedly the touchy-feely one, the words of affection never left the taller man's lips very often.

"I love you too," he replied.

There was a pause, "What's the special occasion? You don't normally tell me you love me first."

"Do I need a special reason to tell you I love you, Yixing?"

Yixing shook his head, and smiled, "I love you so much," he said, leaning against the blonde. Kris smiled.

"Baby," he started.

Yixing looked at him, "Yes?"

"Can I borrow your guitar for a moment?"

The brunette blinked warily at him, "Why...?"

"Do you trust me?" Kris pressed. Yixing nodded.

"Don't quote Aladdin." Yixing told him. "But, yes. Of course I do."

"Just give me your guitar."

Reluctantly, Yixing lifted the wooden instrument off of his lap, and handed it over to his boyfriend, shifting off of the blonde's lap. He really didn't know what Kris was planning, but if his beautiful acoustic guitar was returned in a bad state, the blonde could kiss goodbye to the peace that they've had in their relationship for the past two years — and they'd been together for five.

Yixing had never thought high school sweethearts could last so long. But he believed in the strength of his relationship with Kris. Sometimes, they fought about the stupidest of things, but they always managed to get through it together.

Kris strummed the strings, the tones falling flat; dead notes going through musically inclined ears, Yixing cringing slightly. Kris was a drummer, not a guitarist, and Yixing thinks he would prefer it to stay that way. He was still clueless as to what his boyfriend was even planning to do work his guitar.

"Yixing," Kris said.

Yixing looked at him expectantly.

"Have I ever described our love to you?" he asked.

Yixing blinked twice, and then shook his head.

"You have not."

Kris took a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly.

"Then, I will do so."

The brunette guitarist raised an eyebrow as he rubbed his callused fingers against one another.

"Our love..." He started nervously, eyeing Yixing as if to try and gauge his reaction towards the blonde man's word selection. Kris was absolutely petrified by the thought if screwing up this little moment — little did he know, he was trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Our love is beautiful and melodic, like the..."

He glanced down, and Yixing hid a smirk. Cheesy.

"Like the strings on a guitar."

"Excuse me? What are you on?"

"No, let me explain. It's beautiful; our love, Yixing."

The smirk dissipated, and Yixing looked at Kris, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"How?"

I'm screwed, Kris thought. He knew close to nothing about guitars, let alone the strings on them. He briefly remembered doing musical theory, and it would only be logical if the strings got thicker when the tones became lower.

Kris quickly prepared a mental speech.

"Our love is like the strings on a guitar, baby, because when we first started out at the bottom..."

He gestured to the thinnest string.

"We were best friends, and in love with one another without the other knowing at all. But when we were near one another, we were absolutely high strung and the bond that held us together wasn't very strong. It would have snapped if something happened."

Kris plucked the string, a high tone sounding from the guitar, and looked up to gauge Yixing's reaction. He was proud to be greeted with a fond smile, so he continued.

"But it didn't, because we held on." Kris shifted his fingers to the next string.

"This string represents the night of prom, when I finally had the guts to properly ask you out on a date. The night we shared our first kiss." He added, "We fell even more, like how the strings begin to sound a bit lower, and the bond between us grew a little bit stronger."

Yixing smiled softly at this, and Kris plucked the second string.

"This third nylon string is when we decided to move in together, and I fell even harder for you, and, I would hope, you for me."

The blonde grinned almost cockily at the thought of mentioning the material the string was made of.

Yixing nodded in affirmation. "I did..."

"Our love grew stronger as we fell deeper; the metaphor continuing. The string gets thicker, and the sound grows deeper."

Kris took a breath, "The fourth string defines the first time we made love."

Yixing blushed darkly at the remark, and Kris couldn't help but smile lightly at his boyfriend's behavior.

"In this moment, we fell even harder for each other; but we caught one another, and we're continuing to strive in this beautiful relationship. I can call you mine, and the favor is returned. I am yours, and only yours. The bond, once again, grew stronger... and the metaphor continues."

Kris set the guitar down, and Yixing reached a hand out to stop him, slender fingers clasping around his wrist, lightly.

"What about the last two strings?" Yixing asked curiously.

The blonde man smiled, and settled the guitar on his lap once again.

"N-now, we're at t-this stage in our relationship, Yixing." Kris gestured to the second thickest string, made of thin, coiled steel, trying to cover up the fact that he stuttered.

Suddenly, Kris was hyperaware of everything around him. Like that object in his pocket. Yixing giggled softly. Kris was getting nervous.

"Right now, our love is strong, and we're deeply in love — as the string is pretty strong, and the tone; pretty low." he continued.

"The last string... we're not there yet."

Yixing tilted his head in confusion.

"What is it...?"

Kris smiled, and put the guitar down. He slid onto the floor, on his knees, and he held one of Yixing's hands in his. The brunette blinked rapidly.

"Fan, what are you—!"

"I love you, Yixing." Kris spoke softly, staring directly into Yixing's eyes. A blush bloomed on Yixing's cheeks, as he realized the other's seriousness.

"Why are you so sudden today?"

The question was completely ignored.

"Yixing,"

Kris reached into his pocket, fingers finding their way to clasp around the velvet box. He pulled it out, and held it to Yixing, opening it to reveal a simple silver band — that must have costed a fortune, because in the right light, it shone brightly as the light reflected off the diamond encrusted in the center.

Yixing gasped at the object presented to him.

"Fan, wha—?"

"Yixing, you are the love of my life, and I don't know how I could ever live without you. I want us to move on to the sixth stage of this relationship, for the sixth year we're together; the sixth string on the guitar. The stage where our love is the strongest, and nothing can break us apart. Where I can legally call you mine, no ownership implied.

"I love you like I've never loved before, from the moment we met, I never thought you would be the one that I would fall head over heels for. It sounds cheesy, but it's true. I love you, and I would never trade our love for anything. I don't need anything else, so long as I have you. I would give up the world to be with you forever, and in the end, at least I still have you, to be with me.

"Yixing, you're the most precious thing in my life, my sole star — though I know you would yell at me for using the wrong accents in your name — my only star, the one that lights up my world like nobody ever could. You are the light that leads my way, and I would rather die than be without you, because I don't think I could live being apart from you."

He paused, and tears are falling down Yixing's cheeks onto their intertwined fingers.

"I love you with all my heart. We've been with each other for years and my love for you grows more each and every day. You are a beautiful and caring person and have always been there for me, one hundred percent, through the bad times, and the reason behind that smile — that you like to call cheesy and stupid — I have every single day. You are what helps me through the harder days, and what I look forward to coming home to every day. I think I may be repeating things, but I can never say it enough; I love you so much.

"Zhang Yixing, my beautiful boyfriend; will you make me the happiest man in the universe, because the Earth is much too small, and over used; will you marry me?"

Yixing raised his free hand, covering his mouth with it, and he's crying uncontrollably, but Kris still thinks he looks beautiful.

"Y-yes. Yes, yes, yes! I will marry you, Wu Fan!" The brunette exclaimed, nodding, and the smile on Kris' face couldn't have been brighter.

He pulled Yixing's hand away from his mouth gently, and slowly shifted upwards, connecting their lips in a soft kiss.

"I love you, Yixing, and I'll love you for eternity... my beautiful fiancé."

"I love you too."

And that was their own little shift into a new stage of their lives. Or, as Kris called it... the sixth guitar string, because the words of love are written by a pen, but the expressions of romance are the strings on a guitar.

"But, hey, babe?"

"What is it, Yixing?"

"... the third string isn't made of nylon. In fact... my acoustic guitar isn't even a nylon stringed guitar."

"Oh, you, Yixing."

"Oh, please do."