Truth be told, when I walked in on Kenna, I didn’t expect to see an angel. The way she stood there confidently in the red lingerie which complimented her tanned skin and highlight her long legs, she was a breathtaking sight. At first I was confused and almost mistaken her as a Victoria’s Secret angel; if you get what I mean. By far the only thing that made me forget about the whole stress at work.
From the moment I stepped inside, I was trying hard not to make her notice how my knees were growing weak just by seeing her look back at me; maybe it was my consciousness that kept on reminding me to be sober because I would’ve never kept my hands away from her if I followed my own lustful thoughts.
My lips curve up into a smile as I take a bite of my pancake, remembering back about last night. Even though we had dinner afterwards, things were pretty awkward between us and somehow quiet because we didn’t have much to say—we were just trying to make the silence as our friend.
″Kenna, are you up yet?″ I shout from the kitchen before walking out towards the hallway, gazing to her room; the door closed and not a single sound passing through which confuses me.
Kenna has never been the one to be late for anything, especially work. She might procrastinate here and there but being late for work is so unlike her, she’s always punctual. That is one of the things I like about her; it’s hard to find someone who can go through the same thing, everyday without complaining because as far as I’ve been with Kenna . . . she has not complained about her work but then again, she loves her job.
″Kenna . . . are you in there?″ I ask, this time slower as I knock onto her bedroom door.
Sound of coughs are heard from inside the room, making me hold onto the doorknob, realising that it is unlocked as I push the door open; seeing her wrapped around in her comforter like a burrito as she frowns, her nose red and her eyes somehow swollen and a little bit teary.
I immediately make my way towards her before placing the back of my hand on her forehead, feeling a warm sensation creeping up my own skin; instantly making me realise that she’s actually unwell. My hand goes down to feel underneath her jaw after pushing her hair away from her face—wiping away the prickling beads of sweat.
″Need . . . to get to work,″ She groans.
″You’re not going anywhere,″ I reply before sighing, seeing her blue eyes are droopily piercing into my brown ones; they are red and somewhat tired and instantly, I feel a slight sympathy in my heart, knowing that she’s never the one to care for herself even though she’s good at caring about other people.
″I’m fine, Aidan.″ She coughs, ″Just let me go to work. I have to get to the hospital,″ The way her voice sounded different than usual, it worries me; knowing that her throat must be sore and swollen, too . . . not just her eyes.
As soon as she sits up straight and starts to get off the bed, her body begins to lose balance; causing her to fall onto the ground but luckily I manage to grab her by the waist, stabilising her feet on the ground than letting her hurt other parts of her body from falling.
″For god’s sake, Kenna. Don’t be stubborn and listen to me for once,″ I say before placing her onto the bed, letting her lay down; her eyes are closed shut and her eyebrows remain furrowed. ″You have a fever. You can’t force yourself,″ I add.
She groans again, ″You don’t understand. I have a lot of work to do,″
″I do understand and I’m also worried about your health. You need to know that it’s my responsibility to take care of you—how can I just let you off to work when I know that you’re not feeling okay? You need to rest,″ I unbutton my sleeves before rolling them up to my elbows, without looking away from her figure which has turned sideways due to the discomfort.
″You worry too much,″ She mumbles.
I press my lips into a thin line, ″About you.″
Within seconds, I’m already walking down the stairs to get a basin filled with cold water and a clean cloth before taking prescribed pills in the kitchen cabinet, making sure that she gets the exact dose for a speedy recovery.
Kenna took care of me when I still had the cast on my left arm, she cared for my health, my work and even my happiness while I was almost begging for my cast to be taken off earlier than decided. She was there for me and I want to be here for her.
″Siri, call Flynn.″ I turn towards my phone, seeing it light up before dialling Flynn’s number; hearing it ringing for a few seconds as I put on my ear.
″Yes, Mr. Ashton? Is there anything that I can help you with?″ He picks up the phone, causing me to stop moving all at once and focus onto the sound of his voice. ″Mr. Ashton?″ He calls out, again.
I clear my throat, ″Kenna’s not feeling well. I can’t be at the office today—I certainly can’t go through with the meetings. Can you forward them to tomorrow? Also, can you please send me those files that I was going through yesterday through email?″ I ask, tapping onto the kitchen counter as I wait for his respond; hearing him typing off on the computer.
He stutters at first, ″Are you sure, sir? You have a meeting with Mr. Otawaki at three and he has came all the way from Japan just to see you in order to confirm the final details about the tender. We might have a higher risk of losing it if you don’t attend,″ He replies.
My mind wanders off to Mr. Otawaki—the same man who appears to be strict when it comes to work but at the same time, I can’t help it knowing that Kenna needs me. Even though the meeting with Mr. Otawaki is important . . . but Kenna is much more important to me. There’s a risk of losing the tender but I can’t just leave to tend for herself when she’s just laying in bed with no strength at all to go through the day without me.
Besides, I’m also her husband; not just her best friend.
″Yes, I’m sure. Send my sincerest apology for this unexpected matter to Mr. Otawaki and just call me if anything happens,″ I reply firmly, imagining Flynn taking notes before nodding his head; something he would do without even bothered to say otherwise, even if I’m making the wrong choices in life but sometimes, it’s wiser to go with the most important one.
″Of course, Mr. Ashton. The files will be sent directly through email within five minutes. I also wish that Kenna would get better soon,″ He says in which I respond with a light chuckle before ending the call; placing it on the kitchen island.
Then, I grab onto the basin and a clean cloth with the prescribed pills as I walk towards her room; seeing her still wrapped around in her comforter, soundly asleep. The way her hair is being tied up in a loose ponytail, it’s quite a sight to see her as messy as this—she’s always the type to dress up well and look pretty almost all of the time.
I place the basin and clean cloth on the bed stand, pushing her hair away from her face before tying them up into a neater but loose bun but as long as her hair stays away from her face; hopefully it’ll make her feel much more comfortable. My eyes remain still onto her face, seeing her lips puckering to the front as she continues to sleep, unable to stay awake due to the fever.
My hand reaches out to grab the remote in order to raise the temperature in the room as I turn on the air purifier, wanting to make sure that she gets as comfortable as she can—not even letting her shake anymore as the weather is getting colder because of the snow.
″Mmm,″ She mumbles in her sleep.
I chuckle softly as I find it a little bit amusing before putting the clean cloth into the basin filled with cold water—then, placing it on her forehead, causing her eyes to squint at the sudden coldness before she turns to look at me.
″It’ll help you get better,″ I smile down at her as I soothingly run my hand on her head, receiving myself a weak smile from her; instantly leaving me to eye the paleness of her complexion, the swollen and red eyes and even her running nose. ″This will all be over as soon as your temperature goes down, okay?″ I assure her.
″Can’t wait,″ She tries to smile but the coughs that escaped her lips were making it hard for her.
″We have to get something into your system before you can take these pills. I’ll go ahead and make your favourite soup,″ I say, gazing one last time down her face as I receive another smile from her; making me smile back. ″What?″ I ask, confused—did I say something funny?
She shakes her head, ″It’s wanton soup.″
″Yeah . . . and? What’s so funny about it?″
″Nothing. You just rarely cook anymore—ever since you got busy with work and it’s surprising to hear that coming from you,″ She clears her throat, adjusting her body onto the bed to make herself much more comforter as I laugh; can’t deny the fact that she’s right.
We both look at each other, ″Hey, I’m still a pretty good cook. Making you your favourite wanton soup? That’s easy—I can even serve you some Italian dishes,″ I end with a wink.
I’ve always been the one to say that Kenna needs to spend more time with herself than spending her time at the hospital but I’m just the same. We’re both the same. My work is just as important as Kenna and for some reason . . . earlier this morning, when I had to choose between work and Kenna, it was an easy choice.
It was an obvious choice.
Maybe . . . I am giving in to everything when it comes to her. There are these urges, forcing me to just hold her close to my body and kiss her softly, the urge to feel her lips against mine and her fingers gripping tightly onto the tips of my hair or if she snuggles close near my heart.
The kind of urges where I can just want to relive all over again even if we have never done any.
″You don’t have to. Just give me the pills,″
I grab onto the pills away from her grasps, ″Aha, Kenna . . . you know better than anyone to consume these pills with an empty stomach. You can’t simply break the rules, can you? It applies the same for everybody,″ I say as I see her rolling her eyes yet remain still at the same spot.
″It’s fine. Besides, I’m not hungry.″ She tries to reach the pills from my grip but I begin to stand up, taking a few steps away from her as she sighs in defeat—leaving me grinning. There’s no way for her to get away with this just because she’s perfectly beautiful, with that pretty smile, hopeful eyes, luscious lips and—wait, where am I getting with this?
″Just let me make you something. Just wait,″ I add before quickly stepping out of the room, heading towards the kitchen to prepare for a simple chicken soup instead of a wanton soup—since we don’t have the ingredients because the last time I went grocery shopping was a few months back; Flynn has been the one to help me restock the fridge last week when I was too busy being in the office while Kenna was in grief. She needed space and I respected that.
I quickly prepare the ingredients for a delicious yet warm soup, making sure that it’ll match her taste. She’s not much of a complainer when it comes to food, even if it tastes bad . . . she won’t complain much. Then again, my cooking will, of course, be as delicious as it’ll look.
″Just a few more,″ I mutter to myself before putting the ingredients in the soup after chopping off a couple of potatoes and some bell peppers. ″Just like that . . . ″ I smile as the aroma hits my nostrils, leaving me to taste the soup.
The chicken soup with a few potatoes tastes just as good as I said it would—making me smile down to myself, proud of my achievement even though it has been awhile since I’ve cooked but my talent has not faded away.
I walk up the stairs with a bowl of soup and a glass of water in my hand, slowly entering the room to see her sleeping with her comforter pulled up near her chin. Slowly, I place the bowl and glass onto the table beside her bed, eyeing her features again; something I can never get bored of.
″That’s not my favourite soup,″ She says before slowly opening her eyes, catching me staring at her; making me clear my throat.
″It’s going to be,″ I grin.
She smiles as I start to place one hand around her back and one underneath her arm, letting me lift her to sit up straight and lean her head against the headstand—earning myself a groan from her; the headache probably getting worse.
″Here,″ I mutter as I lift the bowl closer towards her, picking up the spoon and moving it closer to her lips.
Her eyes widen at my sudden and spontaneous gesture, leaving me to realise that I’ve never done this before; not to anyone, not to Kenna. Maybe, to Mia once when she was sick but that’s considered different—she’s my sister. Kenna’s . . . well, I don’t know where we stand. Are we still friends? Are we somehow more than that? Are we capable of something more than being friends?
Both of our eyes won’t look away from each other as I remain frozen, not knowing whether I should pull away or just feed her but it’s all answered as soon as she leans her head forward, letting the spoon enter her mouth; a smile plastered on her pale face afterwards, leaving me to pull away.
″So . . . what do you think?″ I ask, slightly worried if she might hate the taste.
She furrow her brows for a few seconds, making me feel uneasy but as soon as her lips curve up into a wider smile, ″It tastes good. You’re right—my new and current favourite soup.″ She replies.
I chuckle, ″You’re cute.″
″What?″ She raises an eyebrow as she tries to make me repeat the words I said; as she did not hear them properly or correctly.
″I said you’re pretty ugly right now,″ I change the words, leaving her chuckling. Another fun fact about her personality, one of the reasons why I’m beginning to fall for her—one of a kind girl. My one of a kind girl.
″Well . . . yeah, look at me. My hair’s a mess, I probably have a couple of zits and my head’s hurting. It’s horrible,″ She run her fingers through her hair, making me watch her every movement. ″I’m sorry you have to look after me in this condition. You don’t have to,″ She adds.
I let out a sigh, if only she can understand how much I want to say about her beauty. If only she can understand more just how her flaws are what perfects her. She doesn’t need a flawless skin or a straight, perfect hair because all she need is to flaunt her beautiful smile—she’d stop the entire world just by that damn smile. I call it the smile of an angel.
″I want to,″ I reply without hesitation.
She smiles. ″That’s why we’re buddies.″
My heart sinks at the word ‘buddies’ before watching her taking another sip of the warm soup, making me think of how I want this to change, confirming it with my heart—I don’t need to think hard about this, I just have to move forward and see where it’ll take us.
″Kenna . . . I want to tell you something,″ I frown.
She raises an eyebrow, ″Are you okay, Aidan?″ She asks, concern written all over her face; something I appreciate her to show even though she’s probably concern because we’re friends to begin with; nothing too special or spectacular with our current relationship. Married but only legally.
I clench my jaw, ″You know what—you need to rest. You have to get better. I know how much it’s killing you to stay home instead of being at the hospital but don’t worry, I called your colleague and told him about your condition. You just need to worry getting better,″ I run my right hand on her head and down to her cheek as she stares at me, her eyes showing something I’ve never seen before with a few other emotions.
″Here are the pills,″ I put them on her hand before handing her the glass of water in which she takes, consuming them afterwards.
My phone starts to ring from downstairs which causes me to break the trance and glance at Kenna for a couple of seconds, ″That’s probably work. Get some sleep,″ I say before quickly stepping out of the room and walking down the stairs; leaving her without a second glance even though I know she wanted to ask me why was I acting like that.
I pick up the phone, ″Flynn, I told you—″
He stutters, ″—Mr. Ashton, I’m sorry!″ His voice surprises me as I place my hand on the kitchen counter, waiting for her to continue. ″We—we lost the tender. I’m sorry,″ He adds.
I stay quiet for a few seconds, knowing this was a risk I took and now I must face it. I begin to pinch the bridge of my nose before running my fingers through my already thickening hair, starting to feel stressed out about this matter. Not because of the decision I made to disappoint Mr. Otawaki but because of the losing the tender when he could’ve agreed to sign it and go through it later. Unfortunately, he doesn’t trust me enough to go through the process informally.
″Have you sent the files through email?″ I ask, changing the subject.
He hesitates at first, ″I have, sir.″
″Thank you, Flynn.″ I reply without waiting for him to respond as I end the call; placing my phone on the kitchen counter, harder than intended before letting out a deeper sigh, feeling somehow disappointed yet I knew the risk and I knew the consequences when dealing with a company from Japan. They tend to get serious with matters like this and I have unfortunately, disappoint them.
Within seconds, I’m already sitting in my office near my room with the computer screen shining brightly in front of me as I type the day away. My shoulders and neck are straining but I continue to go through the files from the email before finishing the rest of my work, not even realising how long I’ve been sitting at the same spot and just type my hours away.
I close my eyes as I turn to see the sky has darkened, making me glance down at my wrist watch—surprised to see the time.
″Damn,″ I mutter before leaning back on my seat, head aching and shoulders straining. At least a lot of my works are complete, which means I won’t have to go through them again in the nearest future unless I procrastinate and leave them unintended for a couple of weeks until their deadline.
My eyes widen as soon as I realise about Kenna which causes me to push myself up from the seat and walk straight towards her room, pushing the door to find her sleeping soundly on the middle of her bed, not bothered by my presence.
The pills must’ve put her in a deep sleep.
I walk towards her before placing my hand on her forehead, feeling her body less warmer than before which eases me. My eyes gaze down to her body as I pull onto the comforter to cover more than just beneath her waist, knowing that she might wake up from being cold and uncomfortable; so, she shouldn’t.
I sit beside the bed, my hand slowly reaching out for hers—afraid if I might wake her up as soon as my warmth mix with hers but she remains asleep. My hand grips onto her, making me examine the wedding ring, perfectly fit in her ring finger; I have measured it on the day I proposed, when I just grabbed onto her hand and took a few seconds to confirm that she has an average size.
″It suits you,″ I mutter with a smile plastered onto my face, making me think of the moments we can create if I just confess but I fear rejection.
Placing the side of my head on the bed as I remain holding onto her hand without having any intention of letting go, ″Can we just pretend that you’re listening? Even though you’re not,″ I peek to look up at her face, seeing her eyes closed and her breathing at ease.
″Can I love you, Kenna?″ My voice almost inaudible.
″You can’t answer that, can you?″ I chuckle as I run my fingers through my hair again using my free hand as I continue to mesmerise her hand, liking how soft it is, ″Do you think you might love me, too? Maybe . . . a little bit? I don’t like to think that this is a one-sided thing because you know how they work, right? It takes two to tango?″ I raise an eyebrow as I let out a breathy chuckle.
″I really need to work on my nerves. I really need to talk about this with you when you’re actually awake,″ I add. ″But I’m terrible. I don’t know how to say this to your face when your eyes are pierced into mine . . . you’re going to make me one hell of a nervous guy,″
″That’s a good thing, right? It means that I’m serious about this. About us,″ I smile.
My heart starts to beat fast as my head think of the clearer words to escape from my lips, leaving me to continuously look up at her face; seeing how calm she looks when she’s sleeping or how her face can be mistaken as an angel lost on earth. That’s how perfect she is to me.
″I think I’m in love with you,″ I say, staring at her face; expressionless and unawake.
Within seconds, I find myself pulling her hand closer towards my lips before kissing the back of it; long and full of meaning as I wish for our feelings to be the same and for us to actually have a chance to try this thing called—love.
″Aidan . . . ? Aidan,″ I hear a familiar voice calling out my name as I drift away; making me raise my head after opening my eyes, looking at my own surroundings before looking down at my grip.
My eyes widen at the sight of my fingers entwining with Kenna’s fingers, making me pull away. ″I’m sorry about that. Probably must’ve done that in my sleep,″ I clear my throat, feeling the strain on my neck a bit worse than last night.
She smiles, ″Why did you sleep on the floor? You could’ve come on the bed with me,″ She replies as I blink a few times, somehow confused yet I remember back about what happened last night—I said things I would never take back but it was not heard by her which to me is quite a lucky thing. For now. She deserves better than a confession in her bedroom while she’s sick.
″Didn’t want you to kick me off,″ I joke.
Her lips grow wider as she tries to stand up, in which I help, afraid if she might trip and fall. Her hands grip onto my forearm, ″I’m going to take a shower,″ She says. ″I’m feeling a bit better. Thanks to you,″ She adds.
I walk her towards the bathroom before letting her sit near the bathtub, ″Let me help you.″
She raises an eyebrow as her lips curve up into a playful smirk, ″What? You actually want to see me naked?″ Her voice somehow pursuing of something fun which causes me to let out a breathy laugh before clenching my jaw.
″Nothing wrong with that,″ I reply with a smirk of my own and we both just laugh it off, confirming that she’s feeling a bit better than she was yesterday; which means that I did a pretty good job at taking care of her. Then again, truth be told, she was easy to take care of and she heals pretty much on her own.
Just as she starts to stand up, she loses her balance but luckily, I manage to catch her before she falls onto the ground; making me wrap my arm around her waist and the other quickly grabbing onto her hand, surprising her.
″Wow, you alright? Are you sure you’re okay?″ I ask, my eyes wander down to see if she’s actually hurt even though, I know she didn’t fall.
She frowns, ″I’m sorry. My head’s still hurting,″
I immediately pick her up by putting one hand around her waist and the other beneath her thighs before placing her in the bathtub, making her grip around my neck as I place her slowly. ″You seriously need my help. What if you fall and hurt your head when you shower?″ I ask, my eyebrows furrowed, matching hers.
″Are you serious?″ She asks.
Her fingers begin to grip onto the edge of the bathtub, something caught up in her throat but within seconds, I manage to figure out what’s in her head. ″Just . . . let me help you. Trust me,″ Both of her eyes meet mine, staring a bit longer than longer before nodding her head.
She starts to take her shirt off before giving it to me while I try my best to not look down at her body even though she’s sitting in the bathtub in her undergarments instead of stake naked. Then, she takes off her pants, letting me put them in the laundry bag.
I turn to run the bath after placing her usual bath bomb, adjusting the water to comfort her; not too warm and not too cold, just a mixture of lukewarm water that can easily ease her and make her feel better.
As soon as the bath bomb has finished twirling, the water has managed to cover her body up to her upper chest and colour from the bath bomb is a bit too dark and almost impossible for me to see anything beneath which is her skin.
″Just call me if you need anything,″ I say as soon as I realise that the situation is getting a bit more uncomfortable.
Just as I’m about to walk away, she has managed to stop me by grabbing onto my wrist, making me turn to look at her; slightly confused. ″It’s okay, keep me company.″ She replies with an uncertain voice but her expressions shows otherwise.
″Just turn around for awhile,″ She says and I nod before turning around, my view away from her body.
I look down at the ground to see that she has thrown her undergarments away, making me feel my heart beating faster than before as I try to control my breathing; slowly, clenching my jaw and almost imagining her in ways I can only think of.
″You can turn around now,″ She adds.
Slowly but surely, I turn around to meet her eyes. She stays as deep as she can in the water as I start to sit beside her bathtub, watching her every movement as I push away the thought of her being naked in the same room as me; only out of view.
″This is . . . awkward,″ She says and we both laugh, completely agreeing.
″I’m trying my best to imagine you with clothes on but so far, it’s not working very well.″ I reply with a chuckle escaping my lips as her cheeks heat up, the blush creeping causing her to run her fingers through her hair, trying to wet them.
″Let me help,″ I say, looking at her; somehow asking for approval.
She turns for her back to face me as I squeeze and adequate amount of shampoo on the palm of my hand before massaging her head by mixing the shampoo with some water, letting the bubbles form.
My hands are moving gently to wash her hair, trying to remove any dirt or oil as she stays still; not uttering a single word but my eyes just can’t seem to move away from the back of her body, seeing how they’re calling out for me to touch but I remain still, keeping my hands where they are needed and not anywhere near her skin.
″You’re good at this,″ She mutters.
I laugh, ″Yeah? It’s making you feel better?″
Even without looking at her, I can see the smile creeping up her face as she starts to look down. ″Well . . . it seems like you’ve done this before. That’s not a surprise, though.″ She replies.
I stop moving for a short couple of seconds, ″I’ve never done this before.″ My reply seems short but it’s an enough confirmation to prove just how it’s the truth—call it whatever she wants but I’ve never bothered to do this for any of my ex-flings or one night stands because why bother?
″You’re the first,″ I add.
She stays quiet, letting me run my fingers through her hair again, removing any excess bubbles and try to rinse it. ″It makes me feel really special,″
″Aha, I’m not so sure about that.″ I joke even though deep down, I want to just let the words escape and tell her how much she means to me. How I wouldn’t just do this for anyone but for her; it can stay that way for as long as she wants as I hesitate and fight with my own thoughts.
″Dick,″ She chuckles.
We both smile as I rinse her hair.
As soon as I’m done, she starts to turn and our eyes meet again, ″Is your head still hurting?″ I ask, wanting to start a conversation so that our current situation won’t be as awkward as it already is.
″Yeah. Thank you,″ She replies.
″Anything for you,″ I unknowingly run the back of my hand across her cheek, making me blink back a few times as soon as I realise what I’ve done but it appears to be too late to take it all back. My hand moves away from her face before clearing my throat, ″I’ll wait outside.″ I quickly add.
As I step out of the bathroom, I begin to place a hand on my chest; feeling my heart beating fast even though I keep on trying to control my breaths but everything around me and being in this room can’t seem to help me any further.
″Calm the fuck down,″ I mutter to myself before circling the room; mentally trying to talk to myself and just calm down before she walks out. ″Damn it, Aidan—you’re losing it. You’re clearly losing your mind,″
Just as I stop walking around, I hear her step out of the bathroom which causes me to freeze at my exact spot before hearing her entering the walk-in closet, leaving me all by myself again but deep in my own thoughts.
It’s not about feeling lustful when we were in the bathroom and she was bathing naked even though I couldn’t see anything but it’s because of how my feelings are somehow deep and sincere for her. She’s making me go crazy and she’s even making me go weak for her—it’s something unexpected but it’s happening. It’s all happening.
Everything that Dimitri said, it’s coming true.
We’re not anywhere near the end of the marriage but I’m already somehow, deeply, madly and truly in love with my best friend, Kenna.
I turn around to see her looking back at me, surprising me as I didn’t get the chance to hear her step out of the walk-in closet. My eyes wander down to her clothes and see that’s currently wearing a plain shirt with a pair of dark skinny jeans but my heart can’t seem to ease yet.
To my surprise, she starts to make her way towards me before standing on her tiptoes and immediately cup onto my face, her lips meeting mine in an instant; causing my eyes to widen at the sudden yet soft kiss.
Everything around me begins to fade as I close my eyes, wrapping both of my hands around her waist as I pull her body closer towards me, letting me feel the curves of her perfectly shaped body and taste the mint coming from her lips from the toothpaste. Yet, what intrigues me most is her scent, the same exact soft scent. The same exact Bombshell scent.
I feel her arms wrapping around my neck as I pull her up match her height with mine which is not a burden as she appears to be light and her frame has always been small and petite. My heart eases down as our kiss seems to be more passionate and filled with unspoken meanings.
I slow down the kiss as my hands move up to her back, feeling her body curving up towards mine; leaving me to appreciate just how close we are, leaving no distance in between.
We break the kiss to find ourselves panting as we’re still inches apart from one another, her eyes looking into my eyes as mine remain still at her lips, seeing them turning red from the amount of kisses. I begin to clench my jaw before gazing up into her blue eyes, liking how they manage to strike as one of the most beautiful eyes.
″I’m in love with you,″ I mutter under my breath as they escape from my lips. We both remain frozen especially her as soon as she heard the words, knowing that they came out a bit more as a big smack than something slow and romantic.