My heart is always with you (a johnny depp love story)

Chapter 11

I felt my face flush bright red. A little pang went off in my chest. His voice drove me crazy when he said that, all deep and low and husky. Whipering it through a mixture of modesty and smoke-weilding words. I couldn't smile or talk, I had no emotion or maybe too much. I couldnt think.

"Oh fuck, Ella I'm sorry" He frowned and a sad glint twinkled in his eyes. He sat up and turned away. I couldn't bere to see him like that and I instantly sat up and put my hand on his cheek turning him to face me. I cupped his face, kissing him with all the emotion left in me and feeling the warmness of his lips. I pulled away and looked into his eyes.

"I love you too" I smiled and he wrapped his hand around my neck smiling back at me. We were both shirtless and I couln't help but bit my lip at the way the sun gleamed off his perfectly toned torso. He smiled at me staring at him. He put his hand under my chin and pecked my lips softly, and I melted with my knees. 

"Um what do you want to do today?" I asked shyly remembering that this was Johnnys day off. "I have and idea" he said seductively biting his lip. He slowly leant down over me and kissed my lips hard.

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"Christ..." was all I mananged to say when Johnny slid off me, braking the connection of our sweaty bodies. His chest was falling unevenly and he laughed alittle. "I'm gonna need a coffee ," I said still trying to catch my breath. "Babe, I think I feel like having a stay at home day" he started and then looked at me, "Or we could go on a little trip" he smiled softly at me. "Where?" I asked looking at him. "Oh you'll see, its very romantic, sort of a semi idealistic romanticized trip, rather Hemmingway, if you will" he said . I laughed at him being such a loose cannon, "Well how could I turn that down" I said smiling at him for the millioneth time. I didn't know I had the emotional capacity to feel this strongly. He must've tapped into my literature loving side. Not a single other person can understand that. My love for Hunter and Wilde, Hemmingway and Kerouac. He just read me like a book, as if it was easy to know me. My over romanticized love of rum and cigarettes and the smell of hot methol escaping his lips. God I dont think I will ever feel this way about anyone ever again. Ever.

* Sorry this was short, I didn't really have any insporation. BUT I MIGHT HAVE SOME IF INEZ AND MOGE WOULD GIVE ME LEGIT IDEAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JESUS GUYS!!!!!