When up-and-coming model Isabelle meets talented but jaded photographer Milo, sparks fly despite their age difference. Their romance becomes the talk of the New York City fashion scene, fueling rumors and speculation about their scandalous affair. A...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Isabelle didn't sleep well that night. Tossing and turning, Milo was even worse, at one point she woke up to find him completely diagonal. She felt mervous but she didnt nokw why or about what.
She packed in a haze, not fully knowing how long they were going to stay for.
So that when her alarm finally rang at 5:30am it took her acouple of moments to realize that was her alarm and not Milo's, who madea groggy incoherable sound.
"Shit," Isabelle murmured, and reached over him to silence her phone. She collapsed on top of him for a quick cuddle. He extended his arm and she buried herself in him.
They stayed there for a couple of minutes. Then he took her hand and led it to her faovuriote part of him.
Isabelle wrappedh er hadn aorund him, whispering in his ear, "Milo, we've got aflight to catch," but not fully minding it either.
Mi;lo murmued something under hisb reath agian,and then said "I'll make it quick."
He got up over her and in one easy move he swooped her to the center of the bed, finding her as if it was themost natural thing in the world.
In the airport, he got them Starbucks. Skinny vanilla blond, that was her order. Milo smirked when she told him that.
On the plane, they played card games with small cards that looked so tiny in his hands, by which she kept getting distracted several times in the game.
"Isabelle?" He would ask, as she was dreaming bout what those hand would do to her later.
"Hmm? Oh yeah, my turn," she would say and go back to sipping her ginger ale and playing her best hand.
When the pilot announced they were finally preparing for landing, she stared out her window. The city looked huge. New York was huge too but LA was sprawling. The hills, the canyons, the trees, and finally - there it was - the glittering, sparkling blue sea. Her heart was soaring. She was reminded how much she loved the ocean anytime she saw it again, like this.
LA wasn't a place. It was a feeling, a dream, upheld by the simultaneous and pipulous illusion of all its dreamers.
She squeezed his hand, and he held hers tighter.
Milo leaned in to get a look out of the window and then he whispered in her ear, "we're here."
