He surreptitiously stole a glance over his shoulder and entered the alleyway.
Droplets fell from the rooftop edges, contacting the ground in a light percussion that calmed him far more than he had rights to be. The diffused light of the weary sky cast itself flatly down, and he trembled. He told himself that it was simply due to the damp chill, but a smaller voice softly screamed his true thoughts.
He shook his head and rid himself of the sickening emotions. Not now.
He continued down the narrow path and re-checked his pocket. After reassuring himself that its contents were still present he turned sharply left and faced a plain doorway.
He trotted up the few steps, twisted the handle, and entered. However, before he could make it past the wood paneled foyer and up the stairs, a figure appeared.

“Why home so early?”, asked the pretty women.

His careful plan of secrecy had failed. There was nothing else for it. He fell to his knee, took her hand, and proffered the small object.

“Will you marry me?”