Purple (Rocio y Adrian)

Rocio walked to school earlier than most morning. She took the street that got her closest to the Rio Guacabon. It was the long way. The sunlight streamed down El Pico, a waterfall of light, making the river purple. A mist streamed down the mountain in the purple morning light and as she walked it turned into a downpour of purple rain.
She ran and when she ran she slipped. Adrian appeared out of the purple mist and caught her. He was laughing. "I only want to see you standing in the purple rain." She looked into his deep set brown eyes and forgot to stay embarrassed about falling. Rocio had never known a boy could be kind. Her Tia Jesusa made her scared of boys, told her to watch out for them. They wanted something. But Jesusa was a solterona. What could she know about boys?
"I never meant to cause you any pain." Adrian stepped toward her. She shivered. The mountain rain was very cold. What if she liked him too much and he did the terrible thing Jesusa warned her against? She ran again.
He caught up to her. "How can you leave me standing alone in a world that's so cold?" He took her arm. "Pardon me for living, but this is my world too." His smile made her quiver in the center of her self. "I never meant to cause you any pain." He laughed. She'd never heard him laugh this loud. His laugh rumbled from his belly like thunder. Was he crazy? "You're very seria, Rocio. I only want you to have some fun." He gave her 12 purple tulips. "Por tu cumpleanos." The quiver in her center shook through her. She laughed and laughed. "How did you know today I'm turning 12?"

Rocio curled up against Adrian. The sun was hitting the big rock in the middle of the Guacabon. They'd come on Adrian's father's fishing boat and now they were sunning themselves on the big, flat rock. She held Mota, the kitten he'd just given her for her cumpleanos and beside her were 22 purple tulips. She'd named the kitty Mota because when she curled up she was a ball of white fluff. Adrian got on one knee. "Your acceptance of this kitten, and all her kittens after her, means you are going to marry me. This is an engagement kitten."
Didn't he know by now, after all they'd been through together, that her loyalty was like the huge stone in the middle of the Guacabon that they were sitting on? It was unmovable, unbreakable, forever. But he asked her again. He knew, but he had to hear it. She said it. "Yes, yes, yes."