We ended up staying at the restaurant until 12am, finishing our dinner and talking over drinks into the evening.
After finally calling it a night, we all said goodbye and went on back home, in my case back to the hotel with my parents. I said goodnight to them and returned to the comfort of my empty room.
I did the usual, brushing my teeth, washing my face and changing into pyjamas.
I pulled the curtains open and put on my pyjama shorts, lounging on my bed and wrapping myself up in the duvet. I took my phone off of the bedside table.
12:53 AM
I went straight to my messages.
Y/n:
Goodnight gorgeous. 😘
I'm sure you can grasp who that was for.
Billie:
Night mamas. ☺️
With a smile, I put my phone on charge and snuggled into the duvet. I watched the various skyscrapers visible from the window, the lights turning on and off, people moving around inside.
Every light of each building was a different story. One room could be an office with a person working late. Another could be a bedroom with a parent putting their child to bed. Another could be a living room, a family cuddled on the sofa watching a film. The possibilities are endless.
Everyone has a different story. Everyone is living different lives.
I'm glad I got this one. I'm so happy I got her.
It's still unbelievable. I'm sure I sound crazy, constantly fantasising and adoring my own girlfriend, but I can't help it. Frankly, I don't care.
She is all I want, all I need. Her smile. Her eyes. Her voice. Everything about her makes me feel so insanely enamoured. Everything about her makes me feel like not everything is total shit.
Sixth form, friends, work, it all means nothing now I have her. Of course, it's still important, but now I have something to work for, something to stay for. Now I have a girlfriend. Now I have someone who I can actually love and live my life with.
Just the little moments like sharing a smile across the table, or sitting on the bench at the reservoir, they're only a small part of what I can have forever.
It's weird to think this is only the beginning, but if it means I always feel like this then I want a lifetime of it.
Am I getting ahead of myself? Maybe, just a little.
I'm going to stop doubting myself. Is she out of my league? Fuck yeah. But she chose me, she wants me. That's enough - that's all I need.
I'm the luckiest person in the universe.
I stared out of the window whilst thinking about her, resting my head on the pillow and slowly beginning to doze off.
YOU ARE READING
Out Of My League
RomanceY/n is somewhat a regular 17 year-old. She goes to sixth form, and hates it like every other teenager, comes home to her family and just gets on with her monotonous life. She has a couple of friends, but rarely goes to hang out with them; Y/n's more...
