Mine. I Said So!

“Eva Sergeevna, excuse me for such an impertinent question: are you married?”
“There’s no ring, but still.”
“With what purpose are you asking?”
“I want to get married.”
“On whom?” she frowned.
“On you,” he answered simply. “I can tell—you’re my woman. I didn’t think it could be like this. I didn’t plan to get married in principle. But now I can’t offer any other way out. I feel it with all my organs of sense—pardon the tautology.”
“I’m not married, but…”
“I’m also…” he inserted, quite pleased. “Not married either?”
She noted sarcastically. “In our country, that’s forbidden, Yaroslav Igorevich.”
“Evd Sergeevna, you’re literally forcing me to prove my orientation. Going to the doctor ended up with an illness—for me it was love, damn it, love at first sight. I want to get married! But for some reason the lady of my heart is against it. Nothing: I’ll catch up, explain, and then—straight to the registry office!”