Lip stick stains

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A/N: apologies for grammar errors <3

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First love was something that I thought I had experienced before with other relationships. For a long time I thought that love didn't exist. I was wrong.

It just didn't exist with other people.

Vinnie was the only one for me. I was sure of it.

Everything he did made my heart swell, his eyes looked right through me, he could see the little things like the goosebumps that formed on my skin to the glittering of my eyes. Like an empath he could sense my change of emotion, happy or sad.

He would listen to me talk for hours while I leaned my head on his shoulder as we sat under the old apple tree.

"Mmhm." He hummed tickling my palm with one hand and the other leaned across his knee with a cigarette between his fingers.

"That feels nice." I smiled stretching out my fingers as his point finger traced each section.

He smiled down at me. "Continue baby." He said referring to the story I was telling.

"Oh yeah." I laughed before continuing on.

Vinnie didn't talk much in general, obviously to me he talked nonstop but in social situations he was more of an observer. By the end of the night he could tell me about what he had learned about a group of people just by the way they sat. I always told him that he would be a brilliant secret service agent.

I had finished my story and Vincent had finished his cigarette. Handing me the orange and white stub I placed my red painted lips were his mouth once was, decorating it with my lip stick stain.

Handing it back to him I tilted my head at him. "I never asked why you make me do that." I said.

"Do what?" He asked looking down at me with his green eyes.

"Make me stain your cigarette with my lipstick."

He shrugged. "No reason. It's just pretty." He said softly and I smiled at him gently. He's so adorable.

"Come with." He said standing up and grabbing my hand.

"Where to? You know I have to be come at 10." I said.

"My house. You'll be home on time, I just have something to show you." He grinned to himself and I chuckled.

What was he up to?

Once we got to his house, I was directed to his bedroom. The room had soft but dark tones of navy and black. Art books on his desk and sketching pens scattered across his bed along with his sketch book. Vinnie was an artist, rather unique and creative, he planned on being a tattoo artist once he had finished building up his portfolio.

I sat on his bed watching him as he grabbed a canvas behind this desk. It faced him so I couldn't see what was on it.

Finally turning around, my jaw dropped as the canvas was half filled with the stubs of his cigarettes that were covered him my red lip stick. But that wasn't it, the cigarettes painted a portrait of me, well half of my face. It was beyond me how he could have made this.

Looking up at vinnie his eyes were already on me. He fidgeted slightly waiting for my reaction but I truely didn't know what to say.

Nothing could compare to the way vinnie saw me, he saw me like I was the prettiest girl on earth. Somethings I used to wish I was him for a day to see what exactly he saw in me. But know I know what he saw me as.

His muse.

His inspiration.

Standing up I hugged him, placing the canvas aside he hugged me back. Pushing my hips into him while kissing my neck softly. So intimate and sensual.

I pulled my chest away from his slightly. A soft grin making its way onto my face before kissing his lips.

I'm at me happiest when I'm with him.

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 (BWWM)Where stories live. Discover now