Young and Beautiful

First Celeb Photos

It's a day after the weird man incident and I'm sat in my study re-reading 'Billy and Me' by Giovanna Fletcher. My eyes start to water and well up as I reach the end and I can barely turn the page as my heart sinks due to the fantastically written book. As I close the book tight, concealing the heartbreak and sadness, the front door opens and a voice calls out.

"Hello?"

I sniff and wipe away my tears, maybe louder than expected because as quick as a flash, Tom comes running in, his face filled with panic and fear. I just smile as his worried eyes search my expression for a way to help me smile. I bite my lip and smile, looking down at the book rested on my knee. He looks too and in an instant, his face relaxes back to its normal, handsome self. He leans back, stands up and unbuttons his jacket which he throws to the side.

"We should go out."

At first I laugh.

"We are going out!" I say sarcastically.

He grins, his warm smile makes me feel fluttery inside and I can't help but smile back and nod. I hold my hand out and look down at it. He reached down to it and pulled me up. Instead of letting me go, his other hand pulls me closer and hold my waist. His warm hand stays in place as his eyes, infinite and blue, draw me into a gaze. He blinks and he leans into my ear. His smooth voice starts to sing and even as a whisper, it still manages to freeze my body and mind and give me goosebumps. His voice is so soft and gentle it makes me want to sing. We stay there, stood in our frozen bubble of time, for no one to see. Our lips connect and close the gap between us. My heart races, my stomach churns, I feel as though I am flying on Cloud Nine and no one is going to bring me back to Earth.

I let him finish his song and he just stays there, whispering words of love and affection in my ear. I just smile inwardly and lean in towards his neck, my head resting near his chest.

"Do we have to go out?" I whisper, perfectly happy in our own little piece of heaven.

In the end, Tom won the battle and is now forcing me to go out to a five-star restaurant with him. It's 'totally domestic bullying' I tell him as he smiles and buttons up his pale blue shirt. Incase you hadn't guessed, blue is a colour that not many men can pull off but somehow, Tom manages it everytime. Which is lucky, as blue happens to be my favourite.

I sit on our bed, curling my nest-like-hair and after watching me struggle with wires and what not for about twenty minutes, Tom sits down beside me, leaning on and kissing my bare shoulder. I shiver and bite my lip. I am so ticklish that it's actually unbelievable. He just smiles and hums as I groan and (in my mind) scream at the plugs. Nearly an hour later, my hair and make up is ready and I am now sat downstairs on the sofa, waiting for a car to arrive to take us to the restaurant. I sit there humming and clicking my fingers before  re-checking my bag to find my phone and keys, helpful, and buttons and random crap, unhelpful and annoying. We sit in silence, not an awkward one more relaxed and calmed until Tom reaches upto the mantle piece to pull down and navy blue box, to my surprise, a jewellery box. He clears his throat and smiles, his eyes never leaving the small plastic package.

"It's nothing much," he smiles, "I just tight I should treat you more because," he laughs and finally looks up, his eyes staring at me, staring into my soul. "I love you." I look straight back at him, water filling up my eyes and blurring all vision. In the few seconds that I am blinded in, all I can see is a blue and flesh coloured blob, moving closer and closer to me, smaller blobs reaching forward. I can feel warm and soft hands touching my arms and neck, clipping something together behind me. Then my vision clears back into view and I move my hands to my eyes. He smiles at me, knowing how self conscious I am of my personal appearance. I put a sarcastic tone in my voice and whisper to him, "How inconsiderate you are? You saw how long it took me to put my makeup on! Call yourself a gentleman?" I laugh and gently wipe away my tears as he moves backwards. "I do apologise, but I'm afraid I think your makeup is pointless." I tilt my head slightly and frown. "To me," he finishes, "you look beautiful in anything." I grin again, rolling my eyes. He helps me to my feet and together we walk towards the tiny mirror on top of the fireplace in the living room. Tom stands next to me smiling, his right arm around my waist. "There you are Cinderella." he says as I look down at the diamond jewel hanging softly around my neck. "You shall go to the ball."

Our car pulls up outside the restaurant and my eyes light up. Outside hanging down are fairy lights and roses. In the windows are candles galore and inside the restaurant, are the most beautiful people and most romantic table decorations I have ever seen. We pay the man and walk inside the front door, me more tiptoeing so as not to ruin my new shoes and dress and the restaurant's floral patterned carpet. A very posh and smiley faced waiter shows us to our seats and hands us each a menu. I gasp at the presentation of it all, all the way down to the golden designs on the corners of each pages. I lean in close to him, assuming a confidential air. His eyes widen as he sees the excitement covering my face. "This is just a guess," I begin whispering, "but the meals here aren't two for £25 are they?"

When we've finished eating and all the champagne has gone, we pay and leave. Outside, unbeknown to me, ten or more photographers and journalists are waiting, their cameras and microphones poised and ready. As I leave I watch bounce up and then fall down again like a cat, waiting for the mouse to pop out of its hole. It's only when I turn to Tom when they all get excited and jump up to their full glory, flashes beaming into my face and blinding me. What feels like millions of people all simultaneously call out his name. I stand there, shaking with fear as a firm grip lands hard on my shoulder, not one I recognise. I hear Tom's voice call out and shout at the thing/person behind me. The grip is released and replaced with one I know well, a reassuring and welcomed, warm touch.

One journalist in particular grabs my attention, his voice harsh and course. "Can we have a picture with the lady sir?" His cockney accent booming loud in my ear, 'lady'  being me of course. Tom just looks down at my flashing and blinded eyes. "Well?" He whispers. I smile and nod, 'why wouldn't I?' I hunk to myself as he turns me around and holds my waist. I smile and grin pointing and turning in all manner of poses and directions.

When the press have had enough of us, we are sent home, grinning. "You do realise that," Tom says as we are safely back indoors and at home. "that will be in so many magazines tomorrow?" I nod, almost out of control the excitment exploding and bursting out of me like a shaken up Coke bottle.

"Yep. And I am so excited!"