ROMEO

17

E.V.A.

Three knocks sound from our door.

Romeo.

Alex gets up, opening the door. "Right on time.

He walks in, keys in hand. "Ready to go?"

I smile, grabbing my phone. "I-"

"She was ready since six thirty," Alex says with a smirk as she pushes us out.

Thanks, Alex.

He laughs as the door closes. "Six thirty?"

"Don't rub it in," I say, lightly knocking his shoulder.

"I was ready at six," He admits, leading me down the hall.

We walk the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. Romeo's security detail opens the door to a black SUV and I hop in.

"So, there should be no paps around," Romeo says, inching his hand close to mine.

I grab his, turning them over. "As long as we get our food."

He smiles, squeezing my hand.

My thumb caresses his pointer finger and we finish the ride in silence, hands together.

We hop out at the movie theater, hands still together, and walk inside.

The place is empty.

Romeo scratches the back of his neck. "I hope you don't mind that I bought every ticket. I'm not trying to show off, I'm just trying to make sure we hav-"

I shake my head, grinning. "Thank you."

He nods, cheeks going red.

Cute.

As we walk to our theater, Romeo tells his security to get us popcorn. We get our seats, popcorn already there, and train our eyes on the screen.

Halfway throughout the movie, my eyes find their way on Romeo. He sits, concentrated, eyes never leaving the screen. He takes a few popcorn and puts them in his mouth, turning to me.

"Is it boring?" He asks. "We can go to another one."

I shake my head. "You're just a lot more interesting."

He licks his lips then smiles, twisting in his seat to face me. "I'll just have to watch you too, then."

A question pops in my head. "When's your birthday?"

"January thirteenth. Why? When's yours?"

"Well, if this works out, I should probably know your birthday." I say, laughing. "And mines is April thirteenth."

"When," He says.

"What?" I ask, head tilted in confusion.

"When, not if," He says, staring at our intertwined hands.

My heart rate picks up, stomach dances.

"You're a dream," He says in a low voice. "You stop nightmares."

"Then how come I can't stop my own?" I ask. "You stop them or sleeping pills do."

"Me?" He asks.

"Yeah, you."

He smiles a little. "I never thought I could stop someones nightmares."

"Neither did I," I say, smiling.

He looks into my eyes. "Maybe we just needed each other."

"Then we always will."

"I have no problem with that," He says, eyes on me.