𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄 • 𝐭.𝐛𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡

✮ darkroom ✮

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

7 months later

"Thanks for agreeing to do this."

"No problem. You need help with the first verse too, right?" Lana nods with a smile as I pass her the notebook with the lyrics for a new song in it. "So about the name..."

"Yeah. Basically, for about a year I've been friends with this woman, Priscilla, and we are friends with benefits." She nods, looking through the words. "The issue with that is that I've been in love with her practically since I met her and I just... I need a song out there that conveys the love without exploiting her."

Lana looks up at me with parted lips. "You? Really? You're fucking this girl and have managed to catch feelings?"

"Yes." I shrug and throw in the next bit. "By the way, she loves Young and Beautiful."

"Duh." The singer before me scoffs. "Is your relationship with her a secret or do people know..?"

"No, no one knows. Well, except my friend Chris. And a few other people that we don't see a lot and know not to tell."

"Mhm..." She keeps reading the lyrics. "That's why you've called the song Margaret and not Priscilla?"

"Yeah. Do you think you can feature on it..?"

"Oh, yeah."

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Listening to the final recording of Margaret, I force my anxieties about it down. I keep thinking that Priscilla will hate it or something - it's the first song I've written for her which is about love and not just her attractiveness or sex.

Also, by doing this I'm revealing that I love her so that's scary too, but it's okay because I'm not going to release it until her birthday next month.

'Cause when you know, you know,
When you know, you know.

The song ends and Lana claps her hands, patting me on the back and I hug her, thanking her.

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

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I've never been in a darkroom before but if Priscilla is in here, I'm in here.

She doesn't notice me yet in the dark, red lighting as she hangs up the photos she took tonight, quietly humming to her music. I'm not surprised that it's Young and Beautiful but I want her to be listening to my music. I want the actual evidence that I'm in her mind as much as she is in mine.

"Hi..." I murmur, trying to not scare her but my efforts are futile.

"Oh my- Fucking hell, Tom!" She yelps and turns around to face me immediately.

"Sorry."

I'm not. It was funny.

"What're you doing here?" She mumbles, still working on her pictures as I grip her waist from behind and kiss up and down her neck.

She's gained weight and I'm so happy about it. She's conscious of it, but she's not an absolute twig now. She's gorgeous. For example, her cheeks are a bit fuller and I love cupping them, pinching her delicate skin like someone's grandmother.

"Just wanted to see you."

"Well, I can be at the hotel and in your room in about 45 minutes-"

"No, angel." I groan, resting my forehead on her shoulder and hugging her waist rather than grabbing at it. "I want to see you. Spend time with you."

Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at me and I tilt my head to the side to meet her eyes as well and shrug.

"No sex." Well, not right now.

"Oh."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Tired." She sighs and leans into me, leaving the pictures.

What I'd give to have a picture of us now - standing wrapped together in a red lit room.

"Tired?" I start gently swaying her.

"Yeah."

"Well then, come back to the hotel and sleep. Leave all this."

"I can't. These are the physical copies you need. They have to be done."

"I'll live if they aren't."

"Tom." She mutters like a parent telling their child to shut up.

"Do you want me to go?" I frown but don't loosen my hold on her.

Priscilla shakes her head and meets my eyes. "Let me finish hanging these up and then we can go back to the hotel together, okay?"

Honestly, I feel like a whiny little bitch because it takes her about two and a half minutes to finish hanging up the pictures and then she's done.

She's beautiful. She's beautiful, she's beautiful, she's beautiful and I think I'm going to die or go insane or just fall to the floor and never get up because look at her. She spends her time taking pictures of me but I'd give my life to take pictures of her doing what she loves every day. I want her to be my wife and the mother of my children. She can have anything she wants, she can have my soul if she decides she wants it - she already has everything else of mine.

I'm too busy thinking about her to notice that she's now standing at the door with her bag.

"Tom?"

I look at her, her pretty face illuminated red.

I step towards her and don't think about it anymore. Nothing matters. I'd give up my fame and everything I've ever achieved and worked for just for her - for this.

I cup her face, tilting it up and kiss her lips hard but still gently.

Priscilla gasps but doesn't try to pull away. She just stays there and after a moment, starts kissing me back, one hand going to the back of my head and the other covering my own hand on her face.

I kiss her slowly. It's so different to when I kissed her the first time we had sex.

That was lust and hormones.

This is me kissing my love.

She sighs into it and her fingers play with the rings on my own as we kiss. I deepen it, tilting her head back further and gently force her mouth open with my tongue.

Scilla draws back after a while and inhales deeply through her mouth. Her hands are shaking a little and I'm scared I've upset her when she pulls me back in.

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