When up-and-coming model Isabelle meets talented but jaded photographer Milo, sparks fly despite their age difference. Their romance becomes the talk of the New York City fashion scene, fueling rumors and speculation about their scandalous affair. A...
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Milo agreed to meet, to 'have a chat'. The next few days passed by with some back-and-forth texting but Isablle could feel they were in a state of limbo. One she could have pretended to go along with, or, for better or for worse, start this process of unraveling the threads that were starting to get mixed.
She knew he liked her, but she didn't know why he was keeping his distance like that. It was extremely frustrating.
The days that followed Isabelle's text to Milo felt like an eternity. She tried to maintain her composure, focusing on her modelling assignments and daily routines, but her mind frequently drifted back to the impending conversation with Milo. She craved resolution, an opportunity to address the doubts that had gnawed at her since that fateful morning.
Finally, the day of their meeting arrived. They had agreed to meet at a cozy café nestled in the heart of the city, a place that held sentimental value for both of them. Isabelle arrived a few minutes early, her heart racing with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. She had dressed carefully, choosing an outfit that struck a balance between casual and chic, wanting to make a good impression.
As she sat at their favorite corner table, sipping on her latte, she watched the door, waiting for Milo's arrival. Her thoughts drifted to the the undeniable chemistry she knew they had. She was young ,but she kenw enough to know that this was somehow special.
She longed for those moments to return, but she knew they had to address the issues that had driven a wedge between them.
Finally, Milo walked in, and Isabelle's heart skipped a beat. He spotted her and offered a warm smile, making his way to their table. He looked handsome as ever, his disarming charm evident in the way he carried himself. His light blue jeans hung low on his hips and it was all she could do to keep herself focused and not think about him that way.
"Isabelle," he said softly, reaching out to give her a brief hug before taking a seat.
"Hi, Milo," she replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of nervousness and affection.
They exchanged pleasantries, trying to ease into the conversation, but the tension in the air was palpable. Isabelle took a deep breath and decided to broach the subject head-on.
"Milo, I'm really glad we could meet today. I wanted to talk about what happened the other day, at the show."
Milo's expression shifted, his eyes showing a hint of regret. "Isabelle, I'm so sorry for not communicating with you about being there. It was thoughtless of me, and I should have told you beforehand."
Isabelle appreciated his acknowledgment of his mistake, but there was more on her mind. "It's not just that, Milo. I can't help but wonder about what happened at that party. I need to know if you were being honest with me."
It took all the courage she had to face him like this. Usually, she went along. She played nice. But she knew enough to know that he was not usual and that she wanted, needed, to fight for this.
That this would be different.
Milo's gaze met hers, his expression earnest.
She wondered for a moment if she made a mistake. She knew that men didn't like it when you pushed them, probed too hard. She wondered if he would shut down, like all the others usually do.
But when he spoke,the sincerity in his voice gave Isabelle a glimmer of hope:
"Isabelle, I understand why you're concerned. I was at the party, but I wasn't with anyone else. I promise you that."
She leaned forward, wanting to make sure they were on the same page. "Milo, I want us to be open with each other, to build trust. Can we promise to communicate better from now on, no more secrets or doubts?"
Milo nodded, a reassuring smile breaking through the tension. "Absolutely, Isabelle. I want us to work through this..." He grabbed her small, cold hand in his large warm hands. Rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand, it was all she could do to not melt. "I care about you a lot, you know," now it was Isabelle that was being taken aback. "I really think we could grow together."
And just like that, it was as if the past didn't matter. Nothing mattered except for that moment. And she knew, once again, she could stay there like that forever with him.
As they continued their conversation, Isabelle felt a weight lifting off her shoulders. The openness and honesty they shared in that moment were a testament to their commitment to one another. They still had a long journey ahead, but they were taking the first steps toward a deeper and more authentic connection.
All of a sudden, she said, "wait," and Milo cocked his head to the side, taken aback by the sudden change of atmosphere.
"Then, why did you seem kinda..distant this week?" Isabelle asked gently. Now that they were talking, she felt she could say anything.
Milo looked down into his lap/
"I admit...I was a little...guarded." Milo moved his hand from on top of hers and ran it through his hair, looking out into the cityscape outside the window.
Isabelle followed his gaze, and thought that t was like fire...like she could look at the city for a long time and not get tired. But right now she wanted to look at him, to gague his reaction. She was worried he was going to say something that was going to confuse her again. Or worse...
"I think," he began again after a moment, "I was waiting for you to make up your mind," he looked at her.
"Make up my mind?" Isabelle asked, incredulously and yet not wanting to ruin this moment of emotional openness from him. Not wanting to push too hard.
"Yeah," he said, "I think we have a connection, that's strong. But I also appreciate the fact that there's this weird, power dynamic, between us," Milo scrunched his nose as if in disgust for a moment, "and I want you to be able to make a choice. To not feel like you're being pressured into something, anything." Milo looked at his palms now, and it was all she oculd do to not grab his hands and put them in her mouth.
She withheld.
Make up my mind? Does he not realize how crazy made up its been from the very begingin?
"Do you like me?" She asked Milo slowly.
"You know the answer to that," he held her gaze steady.
"And I think..you know how I feel about you. So how could you be pressuring me?" Isabelle broke into an easy smile. "I mean, I get it, but I don't know how many times I have to hint or show or tell you that...I want you."
Milo broke into a self satisfied smile himself. Isabelle's heart was on fire.
"Int that case," Milo placed his hands back on hers atop of the table. Isabelle coud feel eyeso n them watching it all play out like a movie scene, but she didn't care. "In that case, let's take a trip. Something short, but somewhere we can just relax."
Isabelle didn't want to seem too eager, it was all she wanted. To finally be alone with him all to herself.
