It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young man on Tinder must not be in want of a wife; though Mr. Nadal appeared remarkably slow in discovering his own deficiency.

The Meeting

Their acquaintance had begun with awkward messages, but it soon progressed to an entertaining, if not still awkward, habit. At every start of the day, Mr. Nadal or Miss Perez would send a good morning text, their sleepy countenance awakening only when the message showed as “read”. Miss Perez, whilst busily employed by a potential move up north, took great care to respond to his messages even if the time and space between them grew longer.

They communicated entirely through these messages, finding more genuine amusement in a shared funny gif than in all the loud gossip of the world.

The Declaration

The crisis of their affections arrived on a sunny morning in a Hotel right before spending the day at a very loud, crowded and smelly con. Mr. Nadal watched as Miss Perez stuffed her hands into her Perry the Platypus onesie, his usual goofiness giving way to a sudden, visible nervousness. He did not breach propriety by touching her hand, but the intensity of his gaze spoke of a devotion he could no longer conceal.

Miss Perez looked down as he bent his knee, her heart beating with a velocity that defied all her notions of fortitude. Reading the unspoken question in his eyes, she freed her hand to entwine with his, her brilliant smile offering all the consent his pride required.