Conversations With The Moon (Bruno Mars One-Shots)

Marry You pt. 23

Humming along to the song playing from your 'shower' playlist, you set your mascara aside and reach for your lipstick. You blot away some of your chapstick, line your lips and then apply your lipstick, clean up around it, and then clean up the bathroom counter. You wipe it down then apply your favorite perfume behind your ears, on your neck, in the creases of your elbows, and a few other places. You step back and look yourself over. As you take stock of your look and your fit, you muse to yourself about how good the fit is, and make a mental note of how good of an idea this game is. You turn around and check out the back of our fit, there's a knock at the door.

"Hey, you ready yet?" Bruno asks. "I need to get in there."

"Almost," you chime back grinning and fluffing your curls. You adjust the tie around your waist and half turn into the mirror to take a look at your backside. You grin at your reflection after adding some gloss to your lips, you open the door and walk out. Bruno is half dressed in off-white wide-fit bell-bottom trousers, with a matching mesh tank under a striped short-sleeved button-down shirt. He's seated on the bed with his elbows on his thighs scrolling on his phone. As you approach, he slowly sits up and sets his phone aside. His eyes widen and a smile walks across his face. He looks you up and down.

"Damn," he says under his breath. He begins comically gnawing on his lower lip. You roll your eyes and flick your curls at him. He begins chuckling and stands. His body grazes yours as he slides past you into the bathroom. You look over your shoulder at him and he winks before closing the door. You take a moment to grab a few things and switch purses then you head out into the living room where you have a seat on the couch. You turn on the TV and start surfing the channels. You catch the weather forecast, ten minutes of a sitcom, and a round of a game show before you hear the bedroom door open. You look over your shoulder and every thought you had moments ago seems to drain out of your ears.

Bruno's curls are perfectly defined and glossy and his fade looks perfectly edged up. His shirt is now tucked into his trousers showing off his shoulders-to-waist ratio. His favorite aviators are hooked in the front of his shirt matching his brown loafers and as usual, he appears to have no socks on. You start to chuckle, but he approaches and his cologne wafts toward you. Even the scent matches the '70s dress code; it's sweet but musky and earthy at the same time. He pockets his wallet and from his other hand, he produces his gold Rolex which he easily puts on and adjusts. It matches the trio of gold chains already hanging around his neck and the gold rings on his fingers.

"Ready to go?" he asks offering you his hand. You place your hand in his, he grasps your fingers and gently pulls you to your feet. You slowly look up from your hand in his and when you meet his eyes he starts to smile. "Babe?" "Hm?" you reply unable to form a sentence.

"Ready? he asks. You feel your lips part but no words come. You nod and begin gnawing on your lower lip. He nods too. He kisses your forehead. "Okay, let's go."

Once you get outside, a car pulls up and Bruno opens the door for you. In a matter of minutes, the car pulls over and he helps you out the two of you approach a small bistro-like establishment but as you enter, you realize how deceiving the facade was. Inside the place is much, much larger. The entire place looks like it was made to look like a bar/lounge from the 70s. There's music paraphilia all over along with vintage pictures of musicians and old instruments adorning the walls. Though it seems like the vibe lends itself to being a nighttime venue, the place is lively and bustling with activity. With plainclothes bodyguards, the two of you approach the hostess station. Bruno mentions the booking name and the two of you are escorted to your private table and, a waitress soon arrives to wait on you. Once your drinks are ordered, you clasp your hands on the table Bruno does too. You feel him watching you but as you look at him you can't seem to make a sound.