You know the old adage, "be careful what you wish for."
You also know how some people wind up making the biggest mistakes when their wish came true. They learn a huge lesson about themselves and accept what they now know to be true.
Well for me, I...
She's so beautiful. How has an angel like her been alone for so long. I just want to protect her. She is everything I want and everything I need. I want to wrap her up in my arms and nuzzle my nose into her neck absorbing her smell. It is what I was sent for.
Her soft breaths caress my face as I look down at her. Her high cheekbones and freckles that are scattered about her nose and cheeks to her plump lips. I observe her seemingly generous curves that are silhouetted by her big blue blanket. I wanna run my hands over them. I want to rest my head on her bosom while she strokes my hair with her nimble fingers.
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Should I get on the bed with her?
Should I kiss her awake?
Should I wrap my arms around her?
I'm going to chance it. I walk around to the other side and climb into bed with her as carefully as I can. She stirs a little as I get my knees onto the bed but then she settles once more. I pull the blanket up and climb in the bed with her. She smells so good. Like jasmine, lavender and honey. If I could bottle that smell I would.
She turns onto her back making a cute snorting noise as she relaxes into the new position. I take full advantage and lay my head upon her breasts listening to the rhythmic sounds of her heart. I'm tempted to place a few kisses between her breasts and leave my mark but I won't. Yet.
So I settle for just falling asleep with her wrapped in my arms.
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Jasmine Somethings tickling my nose. I feel a weight on top of me. But I must be dreaming, right. Yep still dreaming but the pressure feels so real and the smell coming from this weight is like fresh rain during a thunderstorm. I try to move but I can't. All I hear is a grunt. "Don't move, wife." The voice says.
Wife.
Wife. I'm not married.
I open my eyes and lo and behold the weight is real, his face is in between my breasts. His arms are wrapped around my torso and my legs have wrapped themselves around his lower back. I freak out and smack him on the head. He pops up. "Hey, wife don't hit me." He says with a smirk. "I'm not your dang wife. Who are you and why are you in my bed?" I scream angrily. He looks down at me and says, " Be careful what you wish for, wife." I take a good look at him while I attempt to think of a good comeback.
He has red hair, not like Ron Weasley or Ed Sheeran, but like a tomato. His fierce hazel eyes are peering at me with love and admiration. His full blood red lips are pulled back into a full grin and his freckles are spread across his entire body. How do I know this? This strange man who keeps calling me "wife" is in nothing but his boxers. I feel my face flush scarlet at the sight of him.
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Kenneth Bek as Garrett Mikaelson
"You like what you see, wife? I like what I see." He says.
"What in the Sam Hill are you talking about? I repeat I am not your wife. My name is Jasmine Riley." I shout at him.
He just smirks in response and it infuriates me until I notice where his eyes are planted. "Stop staring at my boobs you freak." "No. I will do no such thing, my flower. You should get used to it because all of you will soon say Mrs. Garrett Mikaelson. Got it, wife." He says as he plants his lips on my cheek.
"Now I know you're hungry wife. What would like for breakfast?"
