𝐶𝐿𝑂𝐴𝐾 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐷𝐴𝐺𝐺𝐸𝑅 | 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 [DISCONTINUED]

𝟐𝟐 | 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

"𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑦."
—𝐹. 𝑆𝑐𝑜𝑡𝑡 𝐹𝑖𝑡𝑧𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑑, 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝐺𝑎𝑡𝑠𝑏𝑦

𝒩.

"𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 were going home."

Natalia slowly opened her eyes to watch as Diego, whose skin was still glistening from the shower he had just taken, came down to the landing of his room.

"Oh, I was gonna leave. . ." she mumbled drowsily as she rubbed her eyes, "but then I got really tired . . . and this bed is so comfy . . ."

"All right," Diego chuckled, taking off the towel he had slung onto his shoulder and ruffling his damp hair with it. "I'm not complainin'."

Natalia smiled softly, sitting herself up as she watched him wipe his shoulders with the towel. She most definitely didn't mind waking up to the sight of him with only a muscle tank on, especially fresh out of the shower. "How was training?"

"The usual." Diego shrugged, glancing back at her before grabbing the sweater he had left on his desk and pulling it on over his muscle tank. "Nigel yelled at me for two hours."

She sighed as she leaned back, the coolness of the wall against her bare shoulders sending a shiver down her spine. "God, I love Nigel."

Diego rolled his eyes in amusement as he exchanged his athletic shorts for jeans. "So you planning on stayin' the whole day?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "You want me to leave?"

"No, no," he reassured her quickly with a shake of the head, buttoning his jeans, "just asking, 'cause I'm having a few friends over at two."

"Who?"

Diego shrugged as he walked over towards her and sat on the edge of the bed. "Nigel and a couple more people you haven't met. I've only met one of them once—Mateo's girlfriend—and the other had moved away for a year, so I haven't seen her in some time."

Natalia pursed her lips in thought for a few moments. As much as she loved meeting Diego's friends (like Nigel), she only wanted to do it if he was comfortable with her meeting them. She knew how embarrassing it could be for your significant other to meet your friends—especially if they were the kind to make fun of you in front of your partner (Klaus, for example, was not someone she usually introduced to her past boyfriends).

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Well," he murmured as he leaned towards her and planted a kiss on her lips, "Mateo doesn't believe me when I say I've got the most beautiful girlfriend on the planet, so I'd like for him to admit he's wrong."

Her cheeks flooded with colour, though she raised her eyebrows in amusement. "I thought he had a girlfriend?"

"So?"

She let out a small laugh. "Why would he say that another woman is more beautiful?"

"Because . . . that's the truth?"

She rolled her eyes. "So if you saw someone more beautiful than me, would you say that?"

"No. Because that's impossible," Diego murmured, leaning forward and planting another kiss on her lips. "No one's more beautiful than you."

"Shut up," she giggled, though she found her cheeks growing even warmer. "Well, I'm not that busy today. . . . Two o'clock, you said?"

He nodded in confirmation.