Happy Fridayyy. Here You Go!!!! Chapter !8 ;) Enjoy & Happy Reading. Comment, Fan, Vote, Favorite! :D
-Maddee :D
Chapter Eighteen
Kyle’s P.O.V.
When I woke up, the bright sun was peeking through the curtains in Farah’s room.
Farah…My mind registered.
I looked down to my arms which were wrapped around her. I smiled at Farah, and brushed a few hairs from her sleeping fragile face.
“I love you,” I mumbled into her blond beautiful hair, as I kissed her head. And I do love her. I truly do. I’m so glad she accepts me, and loves me back. I thought I would have to do a lot more than sing her a song. When I look at her, I can’t believe I was with Kristin or Gillian. As a matter of fact, I can’t believe I was with any other girl I’ve ever been with; I have my one right here all along. All I thought about was Farah. How her hair can get so messy, but she’s still beautiful as ever. Her personality is what gets me. I guess it’s because she’s so down to Earth.
She stirred, and I stopped breathing. I didn’t want her to wake up, and the moment be ruined. But she woke up anyways, with her bright beautiful eyes. “Good morning, Beautiful.” I told her. Farah smiled, and color came to her cheeks. She covered her face quickly into my bare chest. I ran my hand through her hair, sighing.
This’ll never get old to me.
“I want food…” She mumbled quietly. I chuckled; she always knows how to make me laugh.
“Okay, I’ll make you pancakes, Farah,” She smiled that million dollar smile. “But only for a kiss.” I winked at her.
She leaned in, kissing me, as I kissed her back deepening the kiss. She pushed me away after another couple seconds. I got up, grabbing my shirt I took off last night while kissing Farah. The memory flooded back to me, which made me smile. How happy she seemed this morning, like Marcus never existed. Marcus…I growled at his name. How he had the audacity to hurt my precious Farah.
I walked into the Kitchen, grabbing a pan, and began to make her pancakes.
**
When I placed the last pancake onto a yellow plate I found, I sat it on the bar. I heard footsteps, and then saw Farah. She was yawning, and sat on the barstool. I simply smiled, and sat my pancakes on the bar beside her. I sat down, and she pouted.
“You made me burnt pancakes once, so now it’s my turn. Eat!” I exclaimed.
She rolled her eyes, getting up. Farah opened the refrigerator, pulling out the spray can Cool Whip. Farah sat back down on the stool again, setting the can down for a second. She spread the peanut butter all over her pancakes, and then slid the peanut butter to me. I took the butter knife from her left hand, and used it to spread the peanut butter all over my pancakes.
We did the same process with the syrup until we came to the Cool Whip. I waited for her to grab it. When she finally did, she sprayed a humongous pyramid. I sighed impatiently, and glanced at my wrist where my imaginary watch was. Farah rolled her eyes and laughed, “Oh, you want some?” She asked sarcastically.
“Yes, I do.”
“Okay.” Then when I thought she was going to spray my pancake, she sprayed my nose instead. I gasped, trying to wipe it off. Farah almost fell off the bar stool, laughing. I took the can from her, spraying her with it. She squealed, blushing. Farah wiped her face, and putting it back on me. Now I have more all over my face. I pouted, and glanced at her. She looked sad, and kissed my cheek. I turned my head, kissing her. After a couple seconds later, she was kissing me back. Farah pulled away; we were both breathing hard.
“I can’t believe I haven’t kissed you before all of this.” She said in disbelief.
I chuckled, “Actually, you have.”
She looked at me like I told her I married a dog named Susan. “Excuse me?”
“Remember that night Marcus took you to that club, and I came along?” I asked her.
She nodded. “Well, you called me Peter Parker the Spider Man. Or in your case, Parker Peter the Spidey Man,” I laughed out loud, unable to hold it in anymore. “God, you were so wasted!”
She blushed, turning away. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you didn’t say anything to me about it!” She exclaimed, hitting me in the arm.
I shrugged, cutting into my pancake. “Well, I was going to wait ‘til twenty years from now, when we’re all sitting around a table at Thanksgiving…but right now is okay too.”
She laughed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? I still liked it even though you tasted like beer.”
Farah rolled her eyes. I smiled, and looked at my pancakes. My stomach rumbled so I began to eat.
**
“Do you like these shades?” Farah asked me, wearing a pair of purple huge sunglasses.
“Oh yeah, totally.” I lied sarcastically. She rolled her eyes, and slapped my arm. Farah put the shades back on the rack, walking to the door of the store. I followed her, as she walked out. We were at the boardwalk, shopping. I grabbed her hand, entwining our fingers. She blushed, kissing my cheek. “I need a new pair of shorts. Come on.” She told me, dragging me into another store.
Twenty minutes later, we were hand to hand, but our other hands were filled with shopping bags. Farah had bought new clothes with her Daddy’s money. As I got in my precious Volvo, I crammed all of the bags into the backseat. Farah cranked the music, as I put the car in drive. Farah’s favorite singer, Taylor Swift, came on the radio as Farah sang along. I smiled at her as the sun hit her face. She had my orange pair of Ray-Bans on, and I never knew it makes a girl ten times hotter. Especially when that girl is wearing your sunglasses.
Farah rolled down our windows, as the breeze hit her blond curly hair. I held her hand, knowing I’ll love this moment forever.
YOU ARE READING
She is Love
Humor-C o m p l e t e d- Friendship should all be about trust, right? Wrong. Or that's how Farah feels nowadays in her recent and old relationships. But by her getting caught up in her own world of recent relationships, she must rely on her old ones as w...
