The moment I open the door of Jo's apartment, my ear fills with her giggle, and it instantly makes sure a huge ass grin is covering my face. After a long, tiring day on set, I can't think of a better thing to come home to than her giggle.
Her giggle was the first thing I noticed when I met her. We were both nervous to meet each other, especially because we realized that the movies we were about to make, would not only have an impact on us as individuals but also on us as co-stars.
Granted, I had no idea how intense it would be -within days we had a ship name and everything- but from the very first moment, I knew that she and I would always be linked to each other because of the movies we were about to make.
Did I expect her to be the love of my life? Fuck no. Yet here I am, grinning like a moron because I hear her giggle.
Against every expectation and professionalism, I fell for her. Hard, almost as if I'd jumped out of a plane without a parachute on. I remember the exact moment I crashed as if it was yesterday. We were dancing on a platform, the scenery one of a wedding.
It was the first scene in which I got to hold her, and for some reason, I never wanted to let her go once I got my hands on her. I remember how she smelled and I remember how warm she felt underneath my palms. How it fucking confused me because she was nothing like the girls I was into back home.
But it was there, and she felt it too.
At first, we were both hesitant. We mostly talked while going on endless hikes, both enjoying nature. Now, I think it's fucking brilliant that we had that time to properly get to know each other, but back then it mostly felt loaded because all I wanted to do was kiss her.
Eventually, I couldn't bear it any longer. It was a few days before we wrapped the first one, and I couldn't sleep no matter how much I forced myself to close my eyes. She'd driven me insane by just being her beautiful self, and I knew that I had to act on my feelings before we would leave Atalanta.
So, I went to her hotel room. Knocked on her door in the middle of the fucking night, not even bothering to put on some clothes. Only when she opened the door -her eyes still half-closed and her hair a whirlwind of strands- I realized I was only wearing boxers.
But she didn't even seem shocked about that. The moment she saw it was me, her eyes filled with a glimmer of hope, and a few seconds later, I'd captured her mouth with mine.
Safe to say we were late on set the next day.
She had me from that first night we spend together, and although we agreed to keep us private for the sake of the movies, we lowkey made lots of plans for when the After franchise would end.
And right after we had finished, she proved how fucking whipped I was. Because the cheeky blonde little thing made sure I left the one place I thought I would always call my home.
I've been born and raised in South London, and never in a million years had I planned on leaving. I'd completely figured it all out; I would stay in London until the day I'd die.
I can't help but chuckle as I now kick off my shoes and dump them in the corner of Jo's apartment in LA. I've moved in with her three months ago, and while we like it here, we are searching for a place that's ours. In LA. Because I'm that whipped asshole that follows her like a puppy.
"Hi, cutie," her high, giggly voice says from the doorway that leads to the living room, and I can instantly tell she's had a few drinks. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes seem a little red. She's in yoga pants and my hoodie, her hair up in a messy bun but a lot of strands falling out like a halo around her face. And she calls me cutie. She never calls me cutie unless she's had a bottle of her favorite wine.
