19 | ≠ secret

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I can't stop staring at her

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I can't stop staring at her. I can't stop admiring how fucking sexy she looks in her mustard low back gown, the colour doing wonders against her tan complexion. The tiny straps which hold up the dress, combined with her pulled up in a lazy ponytail at the top of her head leaves her shoulders and neck completely exposed. I can see her concentrating on her mascara as she stares at her reflection, her eyebrows scrunched and eyes comically wide.

She looks like a goddess.

My legs move on their own accord and I stand right behind her, placing my hands on the sides of her waist. Through the mirror I see her slightly shutting her eyes, her skin erupting in small pebbles of goosebumps. I smile and move my hands ahead, wrapping around her waist fully and pulling her back into my chest. She gasps slightly as I bend down and place soft kisses along her exposed neck. Smirking against her skin, I lightly suck a spot on her neck. It doesn't register in Ali's brain what I'm doing instantly, but the minute she realises, she jerks and turns around in my arms.

"Nay, no," she chides. She's trying to act mad, but I can see the teasing look in her eyes.

I smile wider and lean towards her, "Nay, yes."

She rolls her eyes and continues, "Don't forget we're still with family. They absolutely can't see anything resembling a hickey on my neck. All hell will break loose."

I lean a little more towards her, her eyes quickly flitting over my lips and back to my eyes, "We don't want that, do we? Will this work then?"

"I don't see any harm in this," she breathlessly replies. I smile and close the gap between us, capturing her lips with mine for probably the hundredth time since our first. There's something addictive about her, so much so that her kisses are becoming oxygen to me. I can't seem to stop, and I don't even want to. Not now, not for a long long time, if she allows me. Her hands tangle in my hair and I pull her impossibly closer, conveying my unsaid words through the intensity of my kiss. She smiles against my mouth, her lips stretching wider and pulls away, looking into my eyes. I look at her, her face flushed, eyes glowing with happiness and I can't help but peck her lips yet again. She chuckles and makes the motion of getting away, but I hold on tighter, making her glare at me mockingly.

"You know we have to go right?" she says, buttoning up the top buttons of my white shirt and fixing the collar of my grey blazer. Her hands automatically move towards my pocket square and I have a small deja-vu, as she did the same thing in the morning. So much changed in these past few hours, but nothing about us seems different. In fact, we're more comfortable, more relaxed. We're now more than friends, and I don't even try to contain my glee. I watch her fixing my pocket square with unadulterated concentration and I can't help but smile even wider.

"Did I tell you that I really really like you?" I start. She pauses and looks up through her lashes, her lips pulling into a smirk.

"I don't recall you saying anything like that," she teases. And even though her tone is light and flirty, I know that she's nervous, judging by how she lightly started bouncing on her heels without even noticing it when I said it. Because yes, it's the first time I'm admitting it to her.

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