The Story of Us

Part 1

She's asleep. It's eleven in the evening and the movie we were watching earlier has been replaced with some late night talk show.

She fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. Her hair is black as pitch in the dark room. Pitch. She constantly talks about a guy with that name from one of her books. She loves to read. If she's not reading then she's practicing or working out. Or listening to music and singing.

She always tries to deny her talents. Says she's not that good or that smart or whatever it is. I'm not exactly 'fine' with it. Especially when she denies being beautiful. I don't like that. She deserves to be told that she is beautiful every single day.

She's just so unattainable.

She refuses to let anyone get close to her anymore. Someone hurt her. It's obvious, but she won't talk about it. She's so beautiful. (The thought just occurred to me; it's probably considered creepy to watch her sleep.)

God, so beautiful. I want her. I've been wanting her. My hand moves to cup her face and my thumb traces over her jawline before moving to her lips. (They're slightly chapped, but it's probably from her constantly licking and biting them. Which, by the way, is super hot.)

So beautiful. I hope she doesn't wake up. It would look really bad for me. It's cowardly of me not to tell her how I feel, but she's fragile. The smallest misstep and you can break her. I don't like it when she's broken. I shouldn't be doing this. We're close.

Too close.

"Just kiss me already." Her eyes flutter open. Her beautiful, sparkling eyes.

"I- I'm-" I stammer. I can feel the blood rushing to my face. She laughs. It's so perfect. She's all perfect. Her hand comes to rest on my neck and she knots her fingers in my hair and slowly, gently pushes me closer. "I've always known." She whispers, "I just never had the guts to tell you."

That's when she captures my mouth with her own.