"I wouldn't be happy with him."
"Who would you be happy with?"
Nini sighs and bites her bottom lip. She crosses her arms and looks down at her feet - and his - sheepishly. She lifts her head slightly and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Nini turns on her heel and heads for the couch. She plops onto it with a thump, her legs dangling over the arm of the brown leather sofa. Her hand reaches up and rests on her forehead before her laughter fills the air.
For a moment he just stands there in the doorway, just in all of her post-bath beauty - no makeup, wet hair that somehow burned at the same time, the way her top and sweats made her look so cuddly. He makes his way over to her and towers over her small frame. His brows furrow.
"What's so funny?"
"You. Me. This. You're the person I would be happy with. The person I used to be happy with, even when we weren't together. The first person who made me feel like more than an object and found the real me before I even had. God, Ricky. You're the only person I can imagine a future with."
She stands up slowly, not once taking her eyes off him. She reaches out and takes his face into her small porcelain hands. The softness of Nini's palms makes his cheeks tingle and he leans his face into her. Her eyes melt into his. Their eyes dance together, his caramel irises and her deep brown ones. Flecks of love and hope waltz between their gaze.
"You're the only person I've ever loved, Ricky."
