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❦
-Not my cup of Tea-
I think I have blisters on my feet. We've been walking for hours.
Okay maybe around ten minutes but it feels like hours.
After me and Oliver's meet and greet downstairs, he whisked me by my hands, and forced me to follow him as he gave me a tour.
I've already seen the kitchen, the three living rooms, the movie theater, and the elevator.
He was now taking me to my most anticipated room to see, the library.
I'm attempting desperately not to trip over my own two feet at the firm hold he has on my hand.
I need a distraction from the warm feeling that has settled into my tummy. So, of course, me being me decides to open my big mouth.
"Do you ever get lost?"
We stop abruptly at two towering oak brown double doors. He scratches at his jaw and glances down at me in thought.
"Lost?"
Still holding my hand, still running that thumb over my knuckles.
He has the audacity to look unaffected by my hand being in his. Or maybe he's forgotten he was holding my hand in the first place.
Maybe I'm such a hopeless romantic, that I've gotten fireworks shot through me at every little stop we've made. And I imagine him re-gripping my hand to keep it stuck together to his.
"Mmh you know, because this house if mine was my multiplied by two" I Kidd, and he shakes his head at my sore attempt of a joke.
His lips tilt up, "Tinsley do you want us to spend our time standing here while you tell terrible jokes?"
"It could be fun."
Ignoring me, he mumbles under his breath while pressing one of the oak door handles down. The door swings inside and Oliver tips his head down, "Go ahead Cariño"
And I do.
Have you ever stepped inside something so beautiful that it has you frozen to a fault?
I just did.
The ceiling stretches high my neck cranes in the process of gazing at it. Shelves next to shelves line up in rows across the room. Shelves full of books.
