Not even 4 pm, with Ashton sipping his third coffee in the past two hours - and beside him, me. Who is unable to fault him as I take him in with nicotine. Which would swirl into my lungs first? Drawn in past my lips - both, equally breathtaking. The more you are exposed to each, the less likely you are to find any kind of permanent satisfaction. I'd let him take my breath away on the slightest implication that he wanted it. I already give it so willingly yet feel the same shocking impact when my chest grows tight.
"You're getting ashes on the floor," Ashton interrupted. I must have given him a look of confusion in return. "Your cigarette. You were all zoned out and now the ash is on the floor," he explained.
"Oh shit, sorry Ash. I didn't mean to," I promptly dumped the cigarette into the ashtray.
"It's okay," he smiled gently, "I wasn't completely sure when to stop your little daydream. You looked quite happy."
My eyes couldn't decide whether making eye contact or looking anywhere else would be the more comfortable option.
"I love you," erupted from my mouth. Thankfully, that wasn't exactly rare for me.
"I love you too," he laughed. "What prompted that?"
"I say it all the time." I frowned.
"No, no. It's okay to say it! The way you said it was just, you sounded like you were confessing to murder or something," he smiled. "I'll take it as a compliment though,"
I raised an eyebrow, searching his eyes and attempting to interpret his smirk.
"I'm clearly occupying your mind so deeply that it's torturing your conscience," he said playfully, holding my gaze until he closed the gap between us. His lips brushing against mine. This wasn't a common thing for Ashton, not a single molecule in me felt compelled to object. I gently pressed my lips against his, inviting him to reciprocate the action. "I love you," I said it like a plea.
"Shhh, I love you too. I love you too, Luke," he moved to straddle my waist, slowly beginning to move his lips to my cheek.
I pulled back, cupping his cheek, stroking the soft skin with my thumb. Looking at him would never grow old. Even when we, ourselves, grow old. His brown curls were climbing across his forehead and his eyes darkened while they drowned in mine. A huge grin broke out across his face.
"What?" I laughed, tucking a curl behind his ear.
"I can't wait to marry you," he continued grinning.
