Red Lips; Paulo Dybala

Supermarket

It was all like a dream to Paulo. The way he met his daughter, to the way he met his mother. It was blur to him, deja vu. He stopped and stared at the little girl- yet he didn't know it was his little girl. The way she reached for the box of cereal at the top of the shelf.

He was reliving the same day. The way Salomé groaned and reached and reached for the cereal. The same way Celine once did when she was sixteen. Salomé's hair was pulled into two Dutch braids. That her mother had neatly done to get her long hair away from her face. It swayed like her mother's. He thought of Celine. He never knew what happened to her after he went looking for her at her house.

He had marched into the school's office to get Celine's address. It never crossed his mind when they were together to ever take her home or asked her where she lived, yet it was no surprise when he rolled into a rich neighborhood looking for her. Serena hadn't been too please to see him and slammed the door right at his face, telling him to never come back looking for Celine.

"Here." He reached after a few moments of admiring the little girl who reminded him all too much of his lover. The little girl turned around to look at the man that had tried to give her the cereal. There was something in Paulo's heart that was leaping out of his chest at the sight at this little girl. She looked so much like her. Her eyes were round and wide, like if she had just received a present, they were beautiful emerald.

Salomé studied the man. Her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed against her chest- just like she had seen her mother do countless of times. He looked so much like her father, the one she met countless of times in the Polaroid pictures. Her mother stored in her baby album. With eyebrows risen, her small lips were pierced, eyeing- glaring at the man.

"This is yours, sweetheart." Paulo gestured for the box of cereal to be taken out of his hand. Yet, the little girl didn't move. Her mother had always told her not to speak with strangers, and she wasn't going to disobey her. Paulo pulled his arm back with the cereal box still in his hold, "Where are your parents?" He questioned, looking for any sight of an adult to come in search of their missing child.

"My mommy says I shouldn't talk to strangers." Salomé stated, but there was something about the way talked. The way she said words that reminded him so much of Celine. Salomé held her stare, as Paulo nodded letting out a breathy chuckle.

"She's a smart woman." Paulo smiled at the little girl whose facial expression remained emotionless, "Where is-"  and that's when he heard her sweet voice. It was something he only heard in his dreams. The was her Colombian accent said his name. It was so sweet and so reassuring to him. It was like his mind was playing games with him, tricking him  to think it was her. When he knew very well she was miles away from him and never coming back.

But it was her, and his heart knew it. She was beautiful, god she was beautiful. She had matured, and he could tell. Her once long- waist length hair that she was curled and had a bow in. Was now cut just a few centimeters below her shoulders, that she had recently balayaged. The uniform he loved so much was replaced with ripped boyfriend jeans. A loose- fitted  shirt, cream cardigan and grey Steve Madden slip on sneakers.

"Salome-" Celine trailed off her eyes were landing on the man she once called her lover. The exact same place she had met him  years back. It was like if she couldn't find the air to suck in, but she pulled Salomé closer to her. It was an instinct, as if she was afraid Paulo was going to take her away from her, the way she took his privilege of being able to watch his daughter grow up.

"Celine." He whispered. He wanted to bring her close to him. Be able to breathe her in again, but that was no privilege he had right to anymore. Celine grew pale, her hands shaking as she was face to face with him once more. Paulo stood their looking at Salomé. It all made sense to him now, why she looked so familiar to her. Then his mind started an equation, he knew there was no way Salomé could be any older than seven. Wheels began to turn, anybody had to been stupid if they didn't believe Salomé was his.

"Is this your daughter?" He questioned. She only nodded, afraid of her voice betraying her. His missed her, and he missed her lips. The red lips he had fallen for, that were now replaced by a nude color. And he looked at Salomé some more and the more he looked at her, the more he convinced himself that she was his, "She's my daughter." It was said mostly to himself, but Celine heard all of it.

"No." She stated, "She's my daughter." She brought Salomé closer to her who was to oblivious to what was unfolding before her.

Paulo wanted to reach for the little girl, he wanted to hold her- because something in his heart told him to, "Celine-"

"She's my daughter, okay?" She wanted to crawl back to Spain and hide Salomé from him. She wanted him to go away, but it was too late she had already exposed her to him.

"Tell me that she isn't mine." He demanded, "Tell me that she isn't my daughter." Paulo wanted to know, what he already knew. That the little girl was his and that he was a father to this beautiful green eyes princess.

Celine wanted to scream to the world that she was his. To let it know to him that they created this sweet creature, but instead she said.

"No."