“Why?” I’m not hiding the smirk on my lips as I study her face in the dim light of the fireplace. Every shadow and highlight of her face is glowing like a painting. She really is too hot for her own good.
“I wanted you to know how it felt all week.”
“You were ignoring me….”
“No, Antoni—“
“Yes.”
“Don’t gaslight me.” She furrows her brows, and I drop my shoulder, thinking about it for a second.
“I was just joking.”
“When you were ignoring me?”
“No, about the debate on whether I was ignoring you.”
“So you were.” She puts down another word though I haven’t gone yet. I let her anyway.
“Yes,” I admit.
“Why?”
“Because I think it’s better that we don’t keep—“
“Fucking each other.” She smirks up at me, eyes smiling brightly.
“Mhm.” I nod, attempting to stop grinning at her for no reason.
“I can’t help it. I'm so hot.” She leans back on her hands, and I want to fuck her right now, but I take a deep breath.
“Oh, believe me, I know.” I breathe. She giggles and pours herself another glass.
“You know. If we had to get married, I wouldn’t be upset.” She lays her head back on a pillow, and I crawl over the Scrabble board to lay next to her. Prop myself up with my elbow to the floor, head resting in my hand as I look down at her studying the ceiling.
“You don’t mean that, Stell. You’re drunk.”
“No,” She scrunches her nose. “I do.” She dramatically clutches her heart and bats her lashes up at me.
“Do you love me?” Why the fuck did I ask that? And why the fuck is she considering it?
“Mm—“
“If the answer is anything but yes, we shouldn’t get married.”
“Woah,” She looks back up at the ceiling. “I don’t agree.” She proclaims.
“So you want a loveless marriage?”
“I don’t want marriage at all. You should be flattered.” She tilts her chin to me, and I look at her perfect lips, stray hairs sweeping down from her forehead to her soft jaw.
“Oh, I am flattered, Lombardi,” I assure her with a smirk because what else am I supposed to say? Fucking one person forever doesn’t sound as bad if that person would be you? Sounds too extreme, but fuck, I do feel it.
Before I can stop her, she’s reaching up and tracing my jawline with her fingers, studying my face so deeply that I forget how to breathe.
“You have a nice face.” She sleepily grins.
“Just face?”