Finding Paris - (gxg)

Chapter 24

Paris's fingers traced softly over Alessia's naked back as they laid beneath her sheets. A bit of light leaking from behind the curtains showing that it was already sunrise and the pair had yet to get sleep. Not that they regretted it, as they had spent the whole night getting to know each other's bodies in every way.

Alessia's head laying on top of Paris's chest with her arm across her torso, "The sun's rising."

Paris's hummed—her fingers still navigating through Alessia's delicate skin. "Yet I could stay here with you like this forever."

"Aren't you a romantic?" Alessia spoke teasingly.

"I am, in fact." Paris couldn't contain the smile that etched itself to her face. She hadn't felt so happy and at peace in such a long time—she felt whole again, the ache of loneliness and heartbreak now nonexistent and replaced with love.

"What are you smiling about?" Alessia asked tilting her head up to see her.

Paris's fingers halted their movement on her lover's back and instead went to move a strand of hair from her face. "What's your real hair color?" Paris avoided the question, which the Scot girl didn't seem to mind as she answered.

"Dark auburn."

Paris was surprised by that, she could see the darker roots in contrast to the light blonde she had dyed. Ever since she's known Alessia she has never seen her with her natural hair color, "Why dye it?" Paris didn't think the question would be a big deal, but by the change in her companion's eyes she knew then, that there was more to it than she thought.

"My mom used to have the same hair color as me. As I grew up I began to look more and more like her... reminded myself of her every time I looked in the mirror. It's stupid, but it just made me so depressed—it was like a reminder that I would never see my mom again, that all I had left was the reflection on the mirror." Alessia hid her face on Paris's neck—the other tightening her grip again. "Eventually I ended up hating my hair and began dyeing it since I was sixteen. It wasn't always blonde though, I started out with black dye for a few years. My grandma hated it, so did my aunt."

"What did Cassidy think?"

"Cassidy didn't think anything back then. She went off the rails for so long after our parents died—she barely said a word to me. All she would do was party with her friends or get in trouble, my grandma had to get her from the police station more times than I remember. Cassidy was a fucking mess, she didn't care about anyone but herself—still doesn't." Alessia said bitterly.

Maybe mentioning Cassidy was not a good idea.

After a long minute of silence—only filled with that of their breathing, Paris spoked again. "I would love to see your real hair one day."

Removing her face from her lover's neck, Alessia propped herself on one arm—her head resting on her hand. "I think I could do that, for you."

"You don't have to," Paris wanted— needed to make that clear.

"For you, I can. Besides, my hair would thank me if I stopped with the dying for a while."

For you. Those words warmed Paris heart, and looking back into Alessia's amber eyes... those eyes that held an indescribable emotion to Paris. But the frenchwoman knew her own emotions, she knew exactly how she felt and what she wanted.

Grabbing Alessia she put her back on top her and brought her into a passionate kiss. They kissed like they had not felt each others lips in ages, when in reality it had not been even an hour since their last. Paris was addicted to her—they were both addicted to one another.

"I love you too." Alessia said— or more like whispered once they broke from their kiss. Their faces still close—the tip of their noses brushing.

Paris was speechless. She didn't imagine that Alessia would understand her confession... and yet.

Why didn't she said it so Alessia would understand? Paris was scared that it was too soon, but she could not contain herself from saying it. However it was she just had to confess herself.

And now here she was, hearing the girl of her dreams confessing her love as well.

"You do?" Paris couldn't help but question.

Alessia was everything she was not. She was selfless, kind, sweet and a genuine good person. How could she possibly love someone as... rotten in the inside as Paris LaRue?

"I do, a lot. Why wouldn't I?" Alessia's face contorted in honest disbelief.

"I have a long list of reasons actually." Paris laughed in attempt to make a joke of it, but the Scottish girl wasn't having it. "I don't know... you know who I am, Alessia. I am the opposite of what someone as good as you deserves to be with."

"And I have a long list of reasons of why I love you." Alessia cupped her lover's face as she remained on top of her. "I wish you could see what I see... of how much you've changed for the better since I met you, yet without losing the essence of who you are. God even before you changed, you had my heart, Paris. I love every single side of you, the good and the bad. Everything." She kissed the brunette's lips again.

It was not many times or with any people that Paris opened up about her insecurities. She had only ever trusted a handful of people with her feelings and that which made her doubt of herself.

Then again, for the longest time she couldn't even affront them herself. Paris lied to herself for so long into thinking there was nothing wrong with how badly she treated the people she cared about and their feelings—because how could she care? If any of them loved her, then they would be back no matter what. It was her mistake for copying her own father's teachings — that no matter how much you hurt someone with your words, they always came back. She did.

Unfortunately the first victim of her behavior being Jackson followed by Riley... more than once her friends.

Paris wished she realized earlier, but now. Now she knew she wouldn't act that way with Alessia, not with her.

"You are going to make me cry, I'm so lame." Paris said getting a chuckle out of Alessia. "It's like crying when you are in the middle of fucking and you are about to cum."

Alessia shook her head at the way the brunette had with words. Ever so delicate. "Was that really the best analogy you could come up with?"

"Did I ruin the moment?"

"Aye, kind of."

Paris rolled them over and put herself on top of Alessia. Now this felt better. "How did you know what I said last night?"

"I have known you for over a year. I've figured knowing some french would come in handy at some point." Alessia grinned smugly—a smile of her own forming on Paris's face.

Paris knew she wanted to be the best version there was of her. For Alessia and for herself.

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A/N - Okay there's only like two chapters left of this story and then I will start Riley's in this same book. You'll know when her part starts.