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After thinking it over (and over), Benito ultimately decided against picking her up in any of his luxury cars. They were eye-catching, and the paparazzi knew his license plate by heart. He owned a simple, second-hand silver Corolla for a reason: to live his life undisturbed.
But at the same time, he wanted something Melina could feel excited sitting in. For tonight, he rented a stunning black Mercedes, so shimmering that it reflected every speck of light from its surface. Its tinted windows and generic license plate promised them privacy.
He pulled up in front of her highrise apartment with doormen by the entrance 24/7. He stared into his rearview mirror, looking over his reflection one last time. He was restless and hoped his jittery mannerisms wouldn't give it away.
He wore a black slim-fitting shirt with chains, and his curly hair was kept snuggly under a backward hat. The curls were becoming a pain to constantly style now. He had to do something about it eventually...
He called her, telling her he was outside. Shortly after, the doorman opened the door as she left the entrance in her beige trench coat with its belt tied snuggly around her waist. She wore black fitted pants and creamy high-heels. As the wind blew her raven hair, she shielded her eyes and momentarily shut them, before opening them and catching his.
As they met eyes, he felt his stomach flip. He stood outside of the car with a bouquet of red roses in his hands, holding her door open for her.
"Hola, Melina," he greeted her as she neared him.
"Hii!" she tried to hold back her excitement as she held the roses. "Wow, thank you!"
"Eres hermosa."
She leaned in, letting their cheeks touch as she kissed the air by his ears. Before she could even think of reaching for the door handle, Benito opened it for her. She got in the passenger's seat and he closed the door behind her.
The alluring scent of his cologne from their brief hug still stayed with her. Giddly, she tried to calm her nerves as she cradled the roses. The seats had ample room and it was easily the nicest car she'd ever been in. She watched as he walked around the front. His eyes lifted and they briefly met. Caught staring, she tore her eyes away and then remembered the tinted windows, so they couldn't possibly have locked eyes.
He sat in the driver's seat, and more of his fragrance filled the car. She smiled shyly, finding it hard to think of something to talk about with him.
As he put on his seatbelt, he gave her a knowing, sly look. The thick tension of theirs filled the air, and she found it hard to breathe.
"What?" she asked.
"Your seatbelt." Smile.
She squirmed in her seat, pulled it over her coat, and locked it in.
"Estas nerviosa..?" he questioned with a tilt of his head.
