Love, a Four Letter Word

Yes, a Three Letter Word

Yes.

A three letter word.

An exclamation.

A "Y" word, that has five possible definitions.

The word she finally used when I asked her out on a date, for what feels like the hundredth time now.

She might have just said yes so I'd leave her alone, but I knew she liked me, maybe a little.

When I picked her up that night, I had never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.

Her ripped jeans fit perfectly on her legs, and her red flannel made her hair shine.

"Words cannot explain how gorgeous you look." My eyes remained on her as I spoke, for I was trying to get the perfect picture of her in my mind, so I would be able to remember the way she looked that night forever.

"You don't look so bad yourself Mr Simon." She shrugged as she got into my car.

The sound of her voice saying my name was enough to send my heart soaring.

Together we walked to a bar, I never took my eyes off her.

***

"So does that guy that was walking with you when I got your number know that you're out with me."

She picked up a fry that was set between us and bit it as she shook her head, "Who? Peter?"

"Who's Peter?" I asked staring at her.

"My Bodyguard," She chuckles, "We're not together."

"Oh," I chuckle along with her, "yeah, I knew that." I smile then quickly frown.

"He was only holding my hand for safety reasons, he always does." She laughed reading my mind. "Can you imagine me with him."

The beautiful melody of her laugh came exploding out.

The bar seemed to become quiet and all I could hear was her laugh echoing.

I smile hearing her laugh, definitely something I could have gotten used to that.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the pool table.

Her small hand grabbed mine and led me over to the tables.

I remember the smile that spread across my face as I slightly blushed. After talking the whole night away, I knew she actually liked that 'stubborn guy that wouldn't leave her alone.'

I take a pool stick and turn back around to see her struggling to hold her pool stick, "Have you not ever played this before?"

She slowly looks up at me after trying to focus on her hit, "Not really, no." A slight chuckle escaped my mouth. "Why? I'm that bad?"

I shrugged, "Maybe a little."

"Oh, and you know how to?" She questioned as I walked over to her grabbing her stick and showing her how to hold it, "Now you try."

Adele took the stick and did exactly what I told her not to do. I shook my head, "You're still not doing it right."

I hovered over her grabbing her hand, putting the stick in between her fingers as I grabbed her other arm, "Now put your arm like this to help aim the ball."

I knew she wasn't listening to anything I was saying, as I felt her gaze staring me right in the eyes. I would say it felt awkward, but I loved it.

Honestly, I could see right then and there, that we were meant to be together. I haven't ever felt that before on a first date, not even with my ex-wife. But with Adele, I felt at home.

That was what real love felt like, and to be honest with you that was the first time I felt it.

We stayed like that for what feels like hours, I felt her breath against my neck as it sent chills down my body.

Still looking me in the eyes, she hit the ball perfectly. I leaned away in shock, even though I didn't want to.

"Wow, that was perfect." I smile, "Lucky shot."

She shrugged smirking while aiming it and shooting it perfectly off again.

I stared at her in amazement as she kept playing like a pro, "H-how in the world?" I paused with my mouth wide open, "You know how to play don't you."

She kept smirking as she sassily stood there leaning on her pool stick, "Everyday 5:30 to 8:00."

I shook my head laughing in disbelief, "You little cheater."

We played endless rounds while getting to know each other more. When trying to make her last shot I couldn't help but notice how her flannel rolled up her arm, allowing her wrists to be seen.

I had stopped laughing and my face darkened.

She looked up at me, confused and doe-eyed.

It wasn't until she looked down at her arms, that her facial expression changed.

She quickly pulled down her sleeves as her face turned almost the same colour as her flannel.

There was only one question running through my mind, and I couldn't help but say it aloud.

"Why?" Her eyes glossed over and I realized that this wasn't the right place to talk.

This time I grabbed her hand, and we left.