She chuckled to his confession as her hands put back the sleeves of her dress. Love? She wasn't meant to be loved.
She got up "Have a good night sir".
He pulled her wrist as she fell next to him, "I said I love you".
With that he held her neck and pulled her in as his lips met hers.
With countless men, that touched her, kissed her, there was nothing as magical as she felt at the moment.
His lips, how she wished they touched her all the time, never leaving her skin for a second. And as her mind drowned into his thoughts, she felt the air hitting her lips, reminding her to breath.
With their foreheads still connected and hands held together he said again "I love you".
She still believed she wasn't meant to be loved, but those damn eyes that pierced through her soul, told her to let him love her.
Let him heal her.
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