How I Found Love in Bangkok

Chapter Forty-two

Give me everything

The man I loved asked me to believe in him. The man I loved looked me in the eyes and asked me to take a chance on him.

The kit I was a few years prior would've never batted an eye. The kit I was a few years prior knew how to trust without fault. I had lost it. The magic of myself. All I could do was lean in and kiss him to avoid giving an answer, his eyes seemed to be begging me for the kind of absolute answer I couldn't give.

They reminded me of why I had fallen in love with him in the first place and I thought, maybe for one night, one short night, I could have him like this. I could trap that version of him in time forever.

"Kit." He broke away from our kiss. "Do you believe me?"

I smiled. "Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?"

He grinned. "No."

"For the record," I pecked his lips, "it's one of my favorite things about you."

"It is?"

I nodded, pecking him once more.

"What else do you like about me?" he asked, grinning.

"Your hair."

"You hate my hair."

I laughed against his lips and climbed over him. "I only hate it when it's too nice. But like this," I slid my finger into his hair, "careless and fluffy. I think it's wonderful."

He made an adorable wholesome face and gripped my waist. "This is the part where I'd die a little bit"—He kissed me—"But you make me come alive, Kit." He kissed me harder, his grip on my waist tightening. "You make me come alive," he murmured.

He made me come alive with every kiss, like he had done multiple times with great ease. I was sinking into my fears and he pulled me out of it just like he had always done and made me feel safe. Our kisses were comforting and thrilling at the same time, wrapping me in a blanket of fuzziness.

His hands were courteous with me, lingering around my waist, but mine were already running all over his back. Mine were ready to be filled with every part of him, to make him feel everything he'd made me feel in the past–and more.

An explosion went off and our lips parted ways as my head shot up. Fireworks. Lots of it.

"Where did those come from?" I laughed.

"Oh shoot! Those aren't supposed to go off now! I'll go check on it."

He slid me off him and began to rise from the bed when pulled him back. "Leave it, lie down with me?"

He beamed. "Okay." He crawled between the sheets with me, lifting the blanket for me to do the same.

I curled up next to him, threw my hand across his body and left my head resting on his chest. Together, we watched the exploding fireworks in silence, his warmth and grapefruit scent serenading me.

"Would you like to hear what I like most about you?"

I nodded, lifting my face to get a clear look at his eyes. He didn't turn to look down at me, he didn't blink, I could see the reflection of the fireworks in his soulful brown pupils.

I think now that is the most calm I ever saw him. There were many moments I spent just looking at him, getting lost in the way he carried the world in his eyes, as if to memorize the way trees bent to the pressure of wind, the way clouds floated along without permission or guidance, the way people laughed. He had a way of looking at the world. Like it was his purpose to witness it.