short imagines

Red Carpet (MM) (Part 2)

I paced anxiously across the foyer trying to come up with reasons for why h/n was, checking my watch for the nth time in the past 30 minutes.

I'll bet my last dollar that he's going to still in anytime with an "I'm sorry" gift and being fashionably late as an excuse.

No sooner than not, he strolled in with a mischievous grin hollering up the staircase "Sorry I was late, but I got champagne", lifting up the champagne bottle, knocking me on the head. He obviously didn't see me 12 feet away, or else I wouldn't be sporting a bruise which i'm certain will come around by morning.

"Oomph. Jesus y/n, why are you in the foyer? Were you waiting for me?"

"No shit, Mr. Fashionably late." I rubbed my forehead, praying so that a bump wouldn't appear in the pictures.

"C'mere" He suddenly engulfed me and places a soft kiss on the bump "There, my mom kissing my booboos always made me feel better" Kissing me on the lips would make me feel better, but he didn't need to know that.

My checks heat up at the thought of him being in such close proximity. AND HOLY SHIT H/N JUST KISSED ME. Well, my forehead is still a part of me so that counts.

"C'mon slowpoke, we wouldn't want you to be fashionably late to the rare occasion you actually show up at the a red carpet event now do we?" Then roughly took my hand in his and pulled me towards the limo waiting out front.

In the car, I noticed how perfectly his Armani suit sculpted his physique and the way he popped the champagne. Lifting it, a silent invitation, which i declined with a head shake. He shrugged and threw his head back. I was completely enamoured by the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

Setting down the empty champagne bottle, he made a move to wipe his mouth on the sleeve which I blocked.

"We don't want you ruining your priceless suit now do we?" I asked. He lifted his brows as I made a move to retrieve a napkin only to realised our hands were will intertwined, resting between his thighs. WHAT THE HELL, HOW DID I NOT REALISE WHAT MY HANDS WERE DOING.

He only tightened his grip when I attempted to be released of his grasp. He leaned onto my shoulder and faintly whispered "Baby, use your other hand." He is definitely not sober because he would have never said something like that. If he keeps this up, I would offer him all the champagne in the world if he would just be like this all the time.

Carefully removing a crumpled up napkin, I leaned into him and wiped his lips while his thumb absently traced my knuckles. I can feel the calm rhythm of his heart beating whereas my heart is having palpitations.

The chauffeur lowered the partition to inform us that we've reached the event, ending our brief moment.

(505 words)

A/N: I love this story so much that I'm going to be adding another instalment.