All Rémy Miller has ever known are lies until someone is able to give him the life changing truth. When studying at Harvard University, his path unexpectedly collides with feisty freshman Céline Martin. Their meeting is not the ideal way to meet som...
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Lies:
It will feel better after
"You do matter." I whisper while I'm floating on a sudden cloud of calm. It's soft and mellowy.
It's him, one look and I forget whatever it is I was scared of in the first place. Relief fills my eyes while the corners of my mouth make out a genuine smile. His gaze doesn't let go of mine, not even when I sit down next to him at the edge, only my knees pulled up to my chest, so in no way I would be touching the water.
It's too soon.
Both of us take a deep breath and it draws my gaze to his chest. His muscles are tight under his skin, and I can tell he's starting to get cold when goosebumps spread across his body. It's the first time I have actually looked at him, observed every corner of him. Sure, I have seen him without a shirt and sure it made an impression on me. I mean how could it not, right? He's muscular, strong chest and arms, even stronger legs. He basically looks like someone took marble and a hammer and carved out the subject of my dreams. "I'm okay." I nod towards the surface. I'm not. Not really because there's a platoon of squirmy jittery things inside my stomach. I could blame it on the pure stress I'm experiencing hovering over a body of water, but it's probably all him. "You can go back in if you want."
You can but you don't have to...
I'm perfectly fine looking at you like this.
His head slightly tilts hesitantly, hiding a smirk, but then he projects himself off the edge and into the water, tiny droplets of water splashing onto me, and they feel like needles. They prick at every tingle, but nothing can make them stop. There's utter silence when he dips his head back to wet his hair until his gaze meets mine again, an instant smile forcing the cutest dimples into his cheeks. It's those damn dimples the size of my thumbs that work their magic on me. "This isn't so bad, is it?"
"N-no," I shake while resting my arms on my knees to hide my face in them.
More specifically I'm hiding my smile.
The sight is surely not so bad and gosh do I love sightseeing around him.
I sometimes feel like a tourist exploring the dangerous lands of planet Rémy.
So, I tell him exactly what I'm thinking.
"Watching you swim isn't the worst thing in the world." I chuckle into my forearm, and he practically blushes.
"Ah so you're the voyeur type." My nose immediately scrunches as he pronounces that odd word in the most American way possible.
It's blasphemy.
It's traitorous.
I correct him with a thick French accent. "Voyeur." It's pure shock he has written all over his face next and I'm living for it. It's my second breath while I'm surrounded by the thing that once took it away.
