Pessimist

30 - Him

I laughed softly at the memory, grabbing my purse and heading out of my room to meet Dean at the foyer where he waited with his hand in his pocket and a picnic basket dangling from his arm.

He put the basket down, stretching his arms over his head as he dramatically yawned. "Finally! I thought I was going to age ten years by the time you got out."

I rolled my eyes, gently smacking his chest. "You're so dramatic it's hard to tell you and Zayn apart sometimes."

He stopped, frowning. "Hey, take that back."

I laughed again, shaking my head and opening the door to get out. Dean trailed behind me like a lost puppy, his frown deepening into a cute pout.

"Sorry, pretty boy. But it's true."

After locking the door we walked together to the elevator, Dean pushing the button with his knuckle and waiting a few moments before it came up and opened. It was empty, like it usually is on weekends, us stepping inside together with Dean directly behind me. We were facing the mirror, my eyes continuously going back over my outfit and Dean wrapped an arm around my waist, tucking his chin on my shoulder.

"By the way, you look beautiful."

My cheeks flushed as I held onto his arm, leaning back against him as I watched us together in the mirror. Us, we were an us. Not a me and him, Sophia and Dean, but us.

"You look pretty yourself, Dean. I think that's my favourite shirt on you."

He kisses my cheek, mumbling. "You're only saying that because you like how my arms look in it."

I turn in his hold, wrapping my arms around his neck as I rose on my tippy toes and pressed a cheeky kiss to his lips. "And what wonderful arms they are. Big arms are so fucking hot."

His mouth lifted at the corners, head tilting down at me. "I'm feeling very objectified right now."

"Well don't," I rose up again, pressing two more kisses on his mouth. "I also love your brain and your voice and the way you cook and your thoughts and the way you listen to me."

"That's a lot of things you love, baby."

I cup his face in my hands, eyes scanning both of his as I whisper, "I love that you exist. Thank you for existing, Dean. Thank you for being here."

He moves one hand to cup the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he brings our faces together and crashes his lips on mine in a sweet, gentle kiss that has my legs going weak at the knees. I hold onto him for stability, eyes closed and basking in this precious moment.

He pulls back, also searching my eyes. "I love that you exist." When the bell rings signalling that we made it Dean steps away from me to pick up the picnic basket as the elevator opens to ground level. Taking a hold of my hand, we walk out to his car.

"Are you ready for our date?"

"I've been ready from the day you kissed me."

"Are you admitting that you liked me that far back?"

I gave him an unimpressed look, clicking in my seatbelt. "I let you finger me on my bed. What do you think?"