Is It Love?

Chapter Twenty Eight

Lily's POV

December 31st

"No! No Rea you'll drop it!" I'm cut off by my laughter, "come on I don't want floor dust on it! Give it!"

"Floor dust? Are we rich housewives now?"

I snatched my dress from her hands, "yes. We are. Thank you very much."

I fold it neatly over my arm, making sure it doesn't crease. "What are you going to wear?" I ask, she turns around and goes to look for it, finding it slightly folded in her bag.

I grab it from her, inspecting the wrinkles. "Really, do you know nothing about keeping your clothes nice? We're leaving soon, you should've taken it out!"

She shrugs, taking the dress back from me. "I'll look nice either way."

I roll my eyes and walk toward my makeup. Rea had told me to do mine first because she was going to do hers while I did my hair.

By the way this night is going, I have a feeling Rea will be the first one ready.

~~

Rea's POV

I'm sitting on the floor of the hotel, picking at my nails as Lily mumbles words to whatever song she is playing. The clock ticks down, one second by another. We have to leave in time to be at the party by nine. I've never been a party person, but Lily is so it fills my plans.

"Are you going to put on your dress?" she asks, I turn to her, and she's facing me. Her makeup is fully done and she's curling her hair. I shrug, "I don't want to be ready an hour before you."

"Shut up, I don't take that long. Go get dressed."

"Okay bossy."

I hear her laugh quietly while I grab my dress off the bed since Lily insisted she put it there so it doesn't get wrinkled. On the way to the bathroom, I grab my journal, feeling the cold leather under my fingertips.

The door clicks close and I stare at myself in the mirror. My hair is clean and lightly curled, only a few flyaways from when I was sitting down. My makeup was lightly done, small pieces of false eyelashes sit on the edge of my eyes, giving it more of a cat look. There's a little bit of dark shadow blended under, accompanied by mascara on both lashes.

I strip out of my pajamas, watching them hit the floor. I admire the dress in my hand, it's pretty simple. Just a mid-thigh length dress with straps, there are probably 20 different colors threading together as the fabric, but it still looks like a yellow-white color from afar. It makes it look interesting and pleasing.

I put it on, adjusting it in the mirror and watching my figure in it. It looks good, it makes me feel nice. Lily's voice rings in my head, random compliments sprinkle in. I can't even think of myself in a bad way because Lily has convinced me I couldn't look terrible in any way. I smile at the thought of her, grabbing my journal and sitting down on the floor.

December 31st

She's intoxicating, that's what she is.

I love her, that's obvious, but it can be consuming. The way her laugh ignites every bone in my body, the way her lips curve when she's trying not to smile, the furrow she gets in her brow when she constraints. She's beautiful, it's so confusing how a person can be so borderline perfect. It's confusing because I'd never thought I'd love someone so young. I could stare into her eyes for hours. They remind me of the sea, they are so gorgeous when you first look at them, but the longer you look the more deeply complicated they get. The layers of love and pain hidden in them. I never thought I could love her more until I could feel her next to me, or hug her while she smiled into my neck. She's just so effortlessly consuming. She's like a butterfly, you can't keep your eyes off her but when remembering her journey it's like she's the only thought you've ever had.