Mr. Perfect

Twenty

Marcus

"Baby, I'm going to figure it out, just wait." I said, frustration filling my voice.

The karaoke machine finally arrived two hours ago – after two weeks of waiting – and Amelia and I are trying to figure out how to connect it to the TV.

And don't get me wrong – I'm glad she wants to help, but she's frustrating me. I don't feel like we're doing it right. Or maybe we should call a professional.

Can't she see that I'm trying to impress her?

The TV finally lights blue and the name of the brand is written in black on the screen.

"You did it!" she exclaimed, her hands flying in the air.

I chuckled, acting as if putting karaoke machines together is my normal.

"I told you."

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"It Had To Be You?" she questioned.

I bought a Sinatra CD, a Paul Anka CD, and a Stevie Wonder CD.

I like the song she chose.

I nodded. Starting the song.

"Why do I do just as you say, why must I just give you your way?"

We started together. With a smile that never left both our faces. Her eyes are so sparkly tonight. Like fireflies filled them.

I stopped singing with her when she sang the first, "It had to be you."

Does she sound good, or am I too in love with her?

My God.

She's so beautiful. She's a literal Angel. Her voice is angelic even though she's not making any effort to sound good. I can see her face clearly. No hairs blocking the way to make her look 'Prettier.' I made her tie her hair back before we started, and thank God I did.

Her slight dimples show when she pronounces the words with a smile painted across her lovely features.

She's so beautiful... and she's mine.

Can you believe it? This perfect woman is mine!

Her eyes found me, she frowned, "Sing."

I laughed, going back to sing with my girl.

"For nobody else gave me a thrill, with all your faults, I love you still."

"It had to be you."

Her smile spread. "Wonderful you."

"It had to be you."

My heart's going to jump out of my chest.

She actually loves me.

Me.

"It had to be you." She sang one last time. Her finger pointing at me – touching my chest. I smiled, holding her hand there, for her to feel my heartbeat.

She glared at the screen to check her score, and of course, she won.

"I got sixty. You got forty-two."

Her voice. Her lips. Her eyes. Her dimples. Her smile.

Her.

Is all I could think about. Fuck the karaoke score.

"You never told me you could sing."

She snorted. "My mother made me sing at church every Sunday."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked with a slight smile.

"Because I hated it."

I laughed, "why?"

She sat herself on the couch, "Because."

I sat next to her. "Because?"

"It caused me to have anxiety."

I chuckled, "You don't like your mother very much do you?"

She never spoke about her mother. It was always her father.

Amelia didn't answer.

She got up from the couch and grabbed one of the microphones on the small table.

"Two Hearts Are Better Than One?" she changed the subject.

I exhaled, getting up. She clearly doesn't want to talk about it, I'm not going to push her into telling me anything she's not comfortable with telling.

"Two Hearts Are Better Than One."