paper rings (l.h.)

44

I was annoyed, if anything, at his idea to keep our hands to ourselves until after our date. I had spent the whole day without him, and left alone to spend my time thinking about him. I had become greedy, stingy. I wanted him for myself, and I was reluctantly sharing him with others. Of course, I never said a word out loud. At least, not now.

My dress still had the tags on it as I was rummaging through my clothes back home for ones worth bringing. It was longer than my other dresses, dragging across the floor if I wore it without some sort of heeled shoe. I had bought it years ago for a banquet I never went to, and trying it on after all these years exhibited the changes I knew had happened but did not acknowledge. My hips were wider, my breasts nearly falling out of the top. The material was silk and clung to my body, covering the parts I wasn't too fond of while drawing the eyes to the parts I wanted on display. I ran my hands across each curve, my long locks falling over my shoulders. I kept the pair of heels from earlier this week, and I slid to allow my dress some reprieve from the floor.

My necklace glittered beneath the overhead light, fake jewelry hanging from my wrists, my ankles. I heard Luke approach my door, and quickly I turned off the This Is Taylor Swift playlist I had found on Spotify.

Knock knock.

"You don't have to knock," I watch as the door clicks open once he processes my words, his eyes glued to me when he sees how well I clean up for a layperson such as myself. I wondered what people had thought, had asked him when they realized who I was — or wasn't. If he ever thought about it, too.

His eyes were wide as he took me in, every detail of me. I walked closer to him, slowly, as if he was an animal I was trying not to scare away. "You've been wearing a lot of black lately," he tries to joke, and I felt my cheeks burn when I see how speechless he seems. "I think I'm starting to rub off on you."

"Maybe," I lean over to press a kiss to his lips, softly, without having to pull him down or stand on my tippy-toes to do so. I grabbed onto his arm as I leaned towards him, keeping my face a heartbeat from his as I whispered between a delicate, gentle kiss. "Soon I'll have you take me to pierce my lip."

Something like a snort, half scoff, escaped his lips as he processed what I said, what it meant. What he had wondered but never asked had been confirmed: I googled him.

I couldn't help but laugh as I watch his usually cool demeanor slip. "Please do," he clears his throat, his smile wide and goofy as he lets out a giggle or two at himself. "I think you'd look hot."

He takes me to his awaiting car, pulled in front of the steps to his front door. Walking me to my side, and opening the door like he always had. "I didn't think I'd end up here when I first met you."

"I know," he grins. "You hated me."

And with the sharp close of the door, I watch as Luke slides in. The scent of his car, faintly of his day-to-day cologne, was calming. But still, my voice cracked as I turned to him. "You think I hated you?"

"You didn't acknowledge me that first day," he scoffs, a half-smile across his face exhibiting how entertaining this seems to be for him. "You barely looked at me, and I was really making myself obvious. I was shocked when I saw that you went through with my post-it."

"I'm a little oblivious when it comes to stuff like that," I sigh, turning forward as the car revs on, his headlights casting a bright beam over his pavement. "And I wasn't really looking until I got to know you. And it changed."

He smiles, reaching over to grab my hand. "I didn't want to find someone down here. I  thought it'd be a bad idea."

"But you asked me out," I laugh, watching as his hand controls our car, practically mastering the skill after I had his other hand for my own selfish purposes. It sat on my thigh, and I tried not to notice how I had to keep myself from sliding it up higher.