A Love Bargain

048: I love you

Pearl

We were at Paint and Sip, and this place was aesthetically pleasing.

From the white walls etched with aesthetically pleasing beautiful paintings to the wooden crafted tables, and seats which were placed at the two sides of it. Including the few people seated at different tables, painting on the board in front of them.

But the most aesthetically pleasing human was the man seated right in front of me, his gaze darting between his phone and the paint board in front of him. His bicep moved up and down in motion while he painted, he was hot and sexy. Even though his black hat covered half of his face, I could still see the seriousness written all over it, and that surged a sudden urge to go over there and kiss him senselessly.

I wanted to so bad.  

I was seated over here, looking like a joke with a colourful mess on my apron, and some parts of my shirt. I was so sure there were some on my face too.  But the most comical joke of them all was the one that stared back at me, the joke of a thing I called a painting.

Of all places for a date, I chose Paint and Sip Studio, and now, it looked like I was here to make fun of myself. Staring at my painting board, a little laugh escaped me and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Kachi tilted his face up to me, smiling.

"Baby," He drawled, chuckling as his soft gaze rested on my face.

He rose to his feet and rounded the table, while I swivelled my body to the side, welcoming him as he pressed his body on mine. He cupped my face in his hand, and as he lowered his face to mine, I pulled off his cap before his lips landed on mine and kissed me softly.

"You look like a mess, baby." He chuckled, "A beautiful mess." He added and locked our lips together once again.

His eyes darted to my painting, and back to me, "It's beautiful."

"Don't lie to me," I pouted, facing up to him.

"Okay," he chuckled again. "But it's not bad." He glanced at my painting, "What are we looking at here though?"

I playfully hit his chest, "Kachi!" He laughed, and I couldn't help but join him laughing. "Seriously I don't know, can I see yours?" I asked.

He nodded, returned to his painting and carried it out from the stand. "Close your eyes," he said, and I did. His steps filled my ears and a lump of saliva passed down my throat. "Okay, you can open them now."

My eyelids slowly parted and my gaze fell on a painting, he was holding in front of me. A painting of a selfie I sent to him yesterday.

Moistness slowly coated my eyes. Not that I was emotional because a beautiful painting of me was being held to my face. It was all because of how focused he was, and the amount of attention he gave to this painting earlier. All that attentiveness was for a painting of me.

At first, I was scared he might not enjoy this date, the date I chose because I wanted us to spend quality time together doing something different. I was scared he might find it boring but the look in his eyes right now was saying something different.

It was saying, I love you, I love this, I love that you brought me here, and I love that I had a chance to paint a picture of you.

But then, why was his painting perfect? Why was he so good at this? 

It seemed like he could read my mind, and the emotions that were building up inside of me because he placed the painting carefully on the table, inched closer and wrapped me up in a tight hug.

A hug that spoke louder, than whatever words we would want to say to each other right now. 

My heart was throbbing loudly against my chest, limping in excitement. The loudness of his heartbeat filled my ear, which was placed on his chest, and the tightness of his arms which were wrapped around me spoke enough words than he could with his mouth. Our bodies heated up against each other, as we silently remained in each other's arms for a good number of seconds.