Red Lips; Paulo Dybala

The birthdate

Paulo pushed the door opened. Revealing his girlfriend, tucked into the covers. Her hair was pulled into a bun, that messily laid tasseled on her head. Putting the tray aside, he smiled. He wanted to admire her, when she wasn't awake. He liked seeing her so peaceful. When her mind wasn't racing with wild thoughts or when wasn't studying. He liked her like this.

Her lips parted, letting her breath come pig quietly. Pushing a strand that had managed to leave the bun. He then decided it was time to wake his girlfriend, "Hermosa." He mused. Celine turned, groaning as she could feel him shaking her slightly. Paulo groaned, shaking her again, "Come on."

Celine groaned again. Tugging on the covers. Paulo pinched her cheeks slightly, "Seventeen-years ago, on a December twelfth in Bogota, Colombia," Celine could feel a smile tugging on her lips, feeling the pinching continue, "Celine Adriana Medina Castro was gifted to this world."

Opening her eyes, her cheeks flushing red and a wide smile on her lips. Paulo returned the smile, leaning in to kiss her lips, "The world gifted you to me." Celine sat up, rubbing her eyes. A small yawn left her lips, as she met eyes to eye with her boyfriend.

"Happy Birthday, amore mío." Paulo kissed her lips again, "I love you."

"Thank you." She whispered. Instantly she climbed on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. She could feel his heart beat, beating for her. She nudged her head between his neck, breathing him in. As if he knew it would be one of the few times they would be like this. This intimate with each other. Showing to each other how much they cared. It would all change in a blink of an eye.

Celine thought back to her days in Colombia, when her father was still alive. Back before her mother had broken their family. Cruz Medina always went above and beyond for his daughters birthdays. Celine's later memories consisted of when she turned ten- just a year earlier before her father had suffered a heart attack. He had showered her with a bouquet of pink roses and a new doll. It was an American girl doll he had purchased from his trip to the states.

She had it all. Her father had built this empire from nothing. Had married his childhood sweetheart at the age of 2o, just six years after the birth of his first daughter, Chantel. Celine never suffered. She was handed it all with hands full of material things. She went to the priciest schools in Bogota and she was beautiful. She had beautiful brown and beady eyes that she had her mother to thank. Plump- kissable lips. Genes that had come both Sofia and Cruz Medina.

That's why people didn't understand her sudden change. Just after her fathers death, it all had seemed to go downhill. Celine wasn't the quirky and vibrant little girl, who had a promising future ahead of her. She wasn't the little girl that had a smile, a smile so warm it could light up the room. It all started just six months after her father's death. The same night her mother had wedded to Marcos Reyes. she despised her mother for ruining her family. For burying her Father's memory like that.

Sofia noticed that changes that same night when she had tried to pull her daughter into a hug and Celine had pulled away. Her daughter wanted nothing to do with her and that was nothing she could ever do to change that. She never could quite put her finger on what had made her daughter. She was well thirteen at the most when it had all started. When Celine wanted to see the world. When she started coming home later. That's when Sofia decided it was enough, right after her fifteenth birthday- when she had cancelled her sweet fifteen, her quinceañera.

She refused to have it, if it wasn't her father that was going to have her first father-daughter dance.

Which had led to sending her daughter to Italy with Serena who at the time was just a paid intern at the law firm and was juggling her last year of college. Looking back now, Sofia didn't understand why she sent her away. It had only strained- pushing Celine further away from her.