Strangers G. D.

10

I wake up to a warm arm wrapped around me. Hazel eyes stare back at me when I look up.
"Morning," Grayson whispers.
"Morning," I say back.
"I remember," Grayson smiles.
"What?" I ask.
"I remember us. Everything," he replies. My lips collide with his soft lips.
"I've missed us," I whisper.
"I'm so sorry that I left you like that. I never should have gone without telling you beforehand. I feel so bad. I can't believe I let myself do that. Those months of not seeing or talking to you killed me. I'm never leaving you again. I love you so much. In those months, I found out that I'm nothing without you. You stole my heart from day one," he whispers in my ear.
"I love you too. I was so mad at you, that I never answered you. I wish I had, but at the same time, this brought us closer together," I tell him. Grayson kisses my forehead.
"Last night was a blur. What did I say to you?" he asks.
"You said that you forgot your key into your dorm so you came here. You also told me you wanted to marry me. Now that I think of it, you did remember everything last night. But before I could ask you about it, you fell asleep," I laugh.

"Have you ever thought about marriage?" he asks.
"Yeah. I definitely want to get married and have kids. How about you?" I ask.
"I want to have a wife. Two or four kids. Three would be fine as well, but one would be left out and I don't want them to feel unloved," Gray replies.
"A wife?" I cheekily ask and lay on my stomach to look at his hazel eyes.
"Yeah. I can already imagine her. Ocean blue eyes. Gorgeous smile. Long, soft, brown hair. Beautiful name. Has humour. Perfect smile. The best personality. Cute. Gets along well with Ethan and Cameron. The voice of an angel. Nice ass and tits," he winks at me. I laugh and give him a kiss.
"How old do you want to be when you get married?" I ask.
"Honestly, is be good with anytime between now and twenty-five. You?" he asks back.
"Between now and twenty three. When do you want to have your first kid?" I question.
"Two or three years after marriage. If I could pick an age, it would be twenty-four. How about you?"
"Twenty-four or twenty-five," I reply.
"Olivia Dolan," he tries out. "I think it fits."
"Olivia Brooklyn Dolan," I say.
"I love it," Grayson smiles. "I better be the one putting the ring on your finger," he whispers.

"You will."