Insomniacs (#1)

38. my girl*

Luca.

I am so in love with her.

God, I am so in love with her that it's honestly nearing embarrassment. Because every time she smiles or speaks or just looks my way I am on cloud fucking nine, people.

Cloud. Fucking. Nine.

The girl could punch me in the face again, for all I care and I'd hug her if she'd hurt her hand because of it. And then kiss her.

Every bit of me belongs to her. Every bit of my heart and body and mind, it's been irrevocably consumed by Ria. And honestly, it's the shit. I revel in what being chosen by her feels like.

Yesterday was difficult. It was troubling and so blindingly painful watching her talk through what she'd kept inside for so long; it took everything in me to try and stay strong for her. To not crumble right there.

The strongest girl I've ever fucking met. Who'd gone through hell, so young and hidden it for eight years after that.

If happiness was a thing, a literal object, I'd travel the fucking world to steal it for her. I'd do anything.

And then. Then, then, then.

She kissed me.

She kissed me, she kissed me, she kissed me and I was floating higher than I ever have. I was more euphoric than any drug or slug of alcohol had ever provided me.

The feeling that ruptured my chest, it was enough to last me lifetimes. I'd be content with not feeling anything else as long as I got to feel that  for the rest of my life and on repeat.

She kissed me and I wanted to scream it out to the world. She kissed me and I was alive. I was alive and this, this is what I had always imagined it to be like - being happy.

She kissed me after confiding in me how tortured she'd been over it for years, where it'd all rooted from. But still, she kissed me anyways and the thought that she felt safe enough with me to, was enough to make my heart implode in my chest.

This is what not grieving every second of every day is like because finally, a new emotion has taken root inside of me; the one when she kisses me. And the one when she smiles at me. The one when she's near me. I'm fucking whipped. I only want her. For the rest of my life. Us, as a team.

She's introduced good and reprieve and fresh air when it feels like my lungs have been suffocating in thick smoke for so long.

She's everything.

And I was staring at her, asleep in my arms and tucked up tightly in the duvet so it covered most of her face.

Curled up against my chest, I brushed my fingers through her dark silky hair, my lips against her head. I studied her features until I knew I'd never forget them; long eyelashes against her cheek, dark hair curtaining her face, the small slope of her nose.

Until I heard the door fling open and I didn't even have to check to know who wouldn't knock like that.

"Hey, dipshi- ew." He grimaced and I fought back the urge to throw what was nearest to me at his head.

"Go away, Miguel." I nestled back into Ria, my face tiredly tucking into her neck.

"Ew." He said once more to reiterate, "You two really don't get enough of each other, huh? I know where you've been all these nights, douchebag." I looked up to see his arms crossed, leaning against the doorway.

"Why are you still fucking here?" I ground out but he only smiled. Aria bristled in my hold, drawing her eyebrows together and turning her face into my chest; she was still sleeping.