Everyday ......
Staring into the deep brown of her eyes, his hand placed firmly over the curve of her hip, Azra feels himself falling in love with her all over again. He falls in love with her every day, he’s sure. And it’s a feeling that reverberates deep in his bones, shocking a hot red blush onto his cheeks as his heart beats a little faster. Sometimes, it’s the way she throws her head back, laughing loudly at the butchered punchline he barely manages to stutter out. Other times, it’s the way she bites at her lip, tugging a lock of dark hair behind her ear before half her face disappears behind the camera. But most of the time, it’s the way she loves. Anything and everything. Loudly and fiercely. Falling with both hands in the air like a surrender.
He’s never been like that. He’s always been reserved, quiet. His heart had felt like a lock he lost the key to long ago. But he supposes they fit in that sense. She’s the yin to his yang. So when he collapses in on himself, barely glancing up at the world around him as he spends hours and hours at his easel, she’s the one that draws him out. Shoving a hot coffee in his direction, she laughs and calls him a dick for not texting back. And when her mind runs a mile a minute, hyperactive thoughts of the uncertain future bringing her down, he’s there, whispering that everything will be okay in between the press of his lips to her temples, her cheeks, her lips. They fit in the odd way that opposites always attract and it’s the reason why it’s not his fault he falls in love with her every day.
"What are you looking at?" she asks, drawing him out once again, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks and hiding the brown he loves so much.
"Nothing," he says. And his voice is weak with it, weak with the way his heart picks up pace and his cheeks flush red.
But she just throws her head back and laughs, shoving him in the chest before muttering something that sounds vaguely like ‘asshole’ under her breath. And then he’s laughing too, at what he doesn’t know, but it probably has to do with the way he always feels lighter when she’s around.
When he goes to swallow their laughter with a kiss, he wonders if she feels it too. If she falls in love with him every day, her hands in the air like a surrender. And if the way she clings to him, tongue slipping into his month as they kiss deeper, is anything go by, it’s a maybe. Maybe she does.
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