ten. copacabana

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"You're fucking glowing."

"What?" If Mari could blush for real she would be a deep red. "No..."

"Dude, you're like, shining. You're like, radiating like you got that good-good. Like, you got that dick-me-down, pipe game strong shit. Girl, you look like a kid on Christmas morning in front a'sum--"

"Okay, okay," Mari laughs, "I might've--"

"Had sex?" Lennon grins. "You don't have to tell me twice. I'm already jealous."

"Oh, stop," she replies, crossing her arms. "It was just sex." 

"Ha-! Okay," Lennon rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Just sex my ass."



It was definitely more than sex.



To Mari, at least.

Because she was glowing.

Definitely.

It felt like more than sex, anyway. It felt like more than just two people on vacation hooking up. Because the exchanged whispers and kisses in bed, or the laughter and late night conversation all had Mari feeling like there was no way this -- whatever this was -- on her vacation was more than just sex with a stranger.

And the next two days have had Mari's head clouded with thoughts of the man with dark hair and caramel eyes and tattoos. With hand-holding in front of Christ the Redeemer and intimate conversation on the Escadaria Selarón and kissing...well, kissing at the Botafogo and at the Parque Lage and a the Theatro Municipal or at Ipanema Beach...Mari felt like she could possibly be floating on a cloud and as cliche as it sounded, she really didn't want to come down.

It was their last night in Rio de Janiero, and all of Oasis was to have a dinner together overlooking the Copacabana.

After that, the night was to be spent however each guest intended, and since Mari had already promised Lennon, she was going out.

According to Marcello, there were multiple night clubs on the beach, so the walk wouldn't be too far for the girls to find fun, and if need be, he had promised to attend.

Lennon obviously wanted him to attend.

And most of Oasis had decided to come too. Mari was excited, because she wanted to end her trip how she started, and that was with her friends.

They were eating at a place called Pérgula, a restaurant built into the Copacabana Palace hotel's famous poolside restaurant.

And everyone was dressed; women wearing dresses and heels while the men were in suits for the Michelin Star restaurant on the beach.

"Are you guys, like, y'know

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"Are you guys, like, y'know..." Lennon shrugs as she shimmies into her dress, "Dating?"

"What?" Mari asks, pausing her entry. She looks above her journal with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

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