𝐹𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒

Enchanted 11

Enchanted by Taylor Swift

High ceiling, dark brown walls, golden chandeliers and a table for two. White heels clicked against the floor, as my legs guided me to the table. The chair was pulled out for me to sit down, accepting with a small thank you, I took a seat, gazing at the person who took a seat opposite of me. His green eyes met mine, colors mixing together as a blanket of silence covered us and didn't want to be pulled away from us. For a moment I even forgot what we were doing here.

"I have something for you," Calvin muttered, taking a wrapped piece from the waiter who came up to us.

He handed me the rectangular object that was wrapped in navy blue paper, my favorite color.

"What is it?" I asked out loud.

"You have to find out for yourself," he smiled.

With a skeptical look I ripped the paper, finding a book under the navy cover. Not just a book, it was different. At first I didn't recognize the object as a book, it was unusual.

Painted wine red roses were covering the front as my name was written with white letters on it. Opening the first page there was the name Victoria. Nothing more. Next page and my eyes land on a poem.

Admiring the words on the paper, poems written on every page and roses on the cover were beautiful flowers with thorns around them in hopes to keep themselves safe and not let people touch them.

My blue eyes met his again, feeling something, yet without any explanation what it was, butterflies roamed inside of me. Nobody would ever do such a thing for me, nobody except Calvin. The book became important to me from that moment. These weren't his poems, I knew them, however he described me using them.

"It is beautiful," I muttered.

"Glad to hear that," he nodded.

Our eye contact never broke, we sat the same for a few moments. It wasn't strange, cringe or embarrassing. More like, trust? The green in his eyes seemed more soft and reflected the same emotions as mine did. Chaos was roaming inside of me, why? My heart was beating faster every time I gazed more into his eyes, why? My mind was memorizing each detail of his features, why? So many questions, yet no answers.

The soft music played in the background, lighting up the atmosphere as the candles burned on each table. I put the book on table beside my glass.

"You were gone," he announced. "Where have you been?"

"I went to meet an old friend," I replied, sipping on the red wine.

"Friend?" A hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Yes, by the way he invited all of us to an event next week," I explained. Somewhat liking the look on his face. Little did he know that the friend I met was 60 years old.

"Alright," he nodded, shifting his eyes away from me.

"What?" I asked, clapping hands together under my chin, amused by his behavior.

"Nothing," he lied.

"Clearly," a smirk formed on my lips.

"Miss Grey, your pasta is going to turn cold if you don't start eating," he pointed towards my untouched plate.

"Right," I chuckled, not taking him seriously.

The dinner went on nicely, our chat was full of humor and honesty. I memorized each word he said. Warmth was inside my chest, no heavier feeling that stressed me. His presence was different, yet good.

Side by side we walked back to the house. The book in my hand, fingers tight around it. The sky full of stars, enchanting shining, yet I found him gazing at me instead.