Our Beautiful Constellation

48 - The stars worth loving

48 - The stars were worth loving

Hyacinth's POV

"You call me 'love,' right?"

I did, but did I admit it?

Obviously not.

Why would I admit it?

I would only embarrass myself if I did that.

But even if I deny it, it seems Cephues doesn't believe me.

She always tries so hard to get me to say it again without realizing it.

She always has that mischievous glint in her eyes, as if she knows she has me cornered, but won't let me off the hook easily.

Like now, we were just going out because she asked me to accompany her to buy a car. It wasn't an unusual request from her, always coming up with excuses to spend time together.

She took so long to get ready that I almost fell asleep on her bed while waiting for her. I glanced at my watch for the umpteenth time, my patience wearing thin.

"Hey, are you coming out of your closet or not?!" I asked irritably, as she'd been in there for more than ten minutes without coming out.

My voice echoed slightly in the large, luxurious bedroom, bouncing off the high ceilings and walls adorned with tasteful artworks.

"I already came out of the closet the moment I told you I like you, baby," she joked, causing a small smile to curve my lips.

Her voice was playful, light-hearted, and it always had a way of disarming me.

Good thing she wasn't there to see it. I don't want her to know that her flirting has an effect on me. It would only give her more ammunition to tease me with.

"Shut up!" I pretended to be annoyed, even though the annoyance I felt vanished the moment she called me baby.

There was something so intimate and tender about the way she said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Here I am!" She emerged from her walk-in closet wearing a simple cropped fitted shirt and a black leather jacket paired with very short denim shorts.

Her ensemble was effortlessly chic, exuding a cool confidence that she seemed to wear like a second skin.

Her hair was tied in a high ponytail because it had grown long. She looked so beautiful; she could be a model if she wanted to.

Many would hire her for their clothing brands, and I'm sure everyone would be captivated if that happened.

"What are you wearing? Change your outfit; you look like a stripper," I pretended to criticize her, but deep inside, my heart was pounding. It was beating so fast.

The truth was, she looked stunning, and it made me feel a rush of emotions I wasn't ready to face.

She pouted and then went back into her walk-in closet without questioning me. She was like an obedient puppy that just followed my words. It was endearing and frustrating at the same time.