A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

This is a continuation of chapter 69

Perth's POV

I was a bit shocked at feeling a teardrop falling on the back of my hand, and knowing that the teardrop came from Saint's eyes.

I was shocked and at the same time sad and concerned. I needed to know why Saint was suddenly crying. Was it because of the guitar music that he was playing from his phone?

The guitar music sounded melancholy and haunting, like it was composed by someone who was suffering from a lost love.

I removed the earpiece from my ear and took Saint's hand and covered it with my other hand.

"Saint," I said, my eyebrows almost coming together in one line, "why, why are you crying, sweetheart?" The word 'sweetheart' came automatically without my even realizing at first that I had said it.

The question made him cry even more.

I placed an arm around his shoulder and caressed it gently.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it right now," I assured him, "but if you ever want to talk about it later, I'm always here for you, and my shoulder is always here for you to cry on."

I felt him press on my hand before I heard him say, "Thank you so much. You are a good friend."

I badly wanted to say, "I would like to be more than just a good friend." but I held my tongue. This was not the right time to say it.

"Do you want to continue listening to your music, or would you like to give it a rest?" I asked, hoping that he would say that he would like to give it a rest.

I sighed in relief when he said, "I think we should listen to a different kind of music. What music do you listen to usually?"

I felt hesitant to tell him. What if the kind of music that I listened to was not his type of music.

He turned to look at me, waiting for my answer.

I took a deep breath. Here goes...

"I listen to songs by Bruno Mars," I said, anxiously watching out for his reaction.

I saw his face light up.

"Oh, I know some of his songs," he said with a slight smile.

I was so relieved that I could not stop myself from grabbing him and holding him tight.

"I can't breathe," I heard Saint whisper so I got alarmed and let go of him quickly almost making him fall out of the bench so I had to catch him to steady him again.

"What Bruno Mars song do you want to hear?" he asked, his fingers already tapping on his phone.

On impulse I replied, "I wanna marry you."

"Whaaattt?" his eyes looked like they were ready to fall off, because they had opened so wide.

"Silly," I said, "the title of the song is "Marry You."

He tapped me lightly on my arm.

"You deliberately misled me there," he said with a pout.

I laughed out loud.

"I'm sorry," I said, still laughing, "I honestly just meant to say the title of the song."

My heart jumped to my throat when I saw the look of disappointment on his face, or did I just imagine it. I couldn't be too sure.

"Put the earpiece back on," he said as he tapped on his phone screen.

I did so, and the catchy beat and music of the introduction came on and in a few seconds we started to hear Bruno Mars' raspy but tender and romantic singing voice.

It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.

Is it the look in your eyes?

Or is it this dancing juice?

Who cares, baby?

I think I wanna marry you.

Well I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go

No one will know.......

I could feel more than see Saint looking intently at me. I just kept looking ahead, out into the ocean, unable to meet his eyes.

We listened to the music up to the very last line.

My heart was beating fast and I was startled to feel Saint's hand grab mine and putting it against the left side of his chest.

Holy of all holies, his heart was beating faster and harder than mine.

I finally met his eyes, wondering what his action meant.

After a long and unbearable silence, he spoke up.

"Perth," he said, keeping my hand on the left side of his chest, "what exactly are your feelings for me."

I hesitated to give my answer.

"I'm afraid to tell you," I finally replied, "if I were to do so, you might turn me down."

"Try me," he said, still looking intently into my eyes.

"I think I have fallen hard for you," I said, my voice hardly above a whisper.

Suddenly he was the one holding me tight.

In the silence, I took the opportunity to ask him, "You wanna tell me why you were crying back there when we first listened to your guitar music."

He let go of me slowly and heaved a sigh.

"That music was one of those that my former girlfriend and I used to listen to very often," he replied, sighing one more time.

"And then what happened?" I asked, not caring whether he wanted to answer me or not. I just really wanted, or needed, to know.

"She passed away a year ago," he replied, tears welling up in his eyes once more.

I wanted to kick myself for being selfish enough to force him to tell me about his painful past.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, holding his hand very tightly. "You don't need to talk about it anymore if it pains you to recall your past."

He nodded, looking down, and once more I felt a teardrop fall on the back of my hand.

"Would you like to hear any more Bruno Mars songs?" I asked, thinking of lightening up the somber mood.

"Sure," he replied.

I could tell that he wanted to cheer up as well.

"Let's listen to his "Count On Me" song," I suggested.

"Oh yeah, I know that song, too," he said, making a few taps on his phone screen.

I quickly put my earpiece back on.

If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea...

I'll sail the world to find you

If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see

I'll be the light to guide you.

Find out what we're made of when we are called to help our friends in need

You can count on me like one, two, three...

I'll be there...

When the ooohhh... ooohhh part came on, we smiled and looked at each other when we realized that we were both singing along to it.

When the song ended, he turned to look at me once more, his tears all dried up and the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

"I would like to be that kind of a friend to you," I said, looking at him seriously.

"Just a friend," I heard him mutter, more to himself than to me.

"No!" I protested, "more than just a friend!"

"Actually boyfriend!".

Saint and I looked sharply in the direction of where the voice came from.

A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Shit, Saint and I had been so absorbed in each other that we had not noticed that a couple had walked into the open deck and must have caught the tail end of our conversation.

They looked friendly enough and they waved and nodded to us in greeting.

We did the same to them.

Then I noticed Saint looking at his watch.

"Would you like to turn in for the night?" I asked, searching for any traces of sleepiness in his eyes.

"Not yet," he replied, "let's hang out a little bit more in your cabin."

In my cabin. In. MY. Cabin. He wanted to hang out with me tonight IN. MY. CABIN.

The words whirled crazily in my brain. I suddenly found it hard to breathe.