♡ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋-𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 ♡

𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦: ~𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘰~

"𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒆. 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒆; 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈."

We stood out on the balcony of our hotel room, the Eiffel Tower catching every single persons' attention with its bright lights.

Alek stood behind me, his hands wrapped around my body with his hands resting on my chubby stomach.

I'm one month pregnant with a boy.

Just kidding.

We had been in Paris for a few days already. Alek had something romantic planned every day. Yesterday we went on a boat ride and today we had a fancy dinner on the balcony.

Rose petals laid out on the ground and some on the white table cloth, fairy lights hung above us.

He was still so perfect.

We came to Paris for my nineteenth birthday which was today. Alek was now 25. Old man, I tell you.

"Baby," his soft voice delicately filled my air, his hot breath fanning my neck.

"Yes?" I ask, turning my head and tilting it up so I could see his magnificent face.

So, so pretty.

He was dressed in a full black suit, his jacket undone and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone too, showing off his beautiful tattooed chest. 

Yummy.

His hair was in a half ponytail thing that he had become obsessed with as it grew longer, two small pieces pulled out from the front, framing his face. Silver jewelry with some pearls here and there. He had on some fancy eyeliner that brought out his dark eyes.

"You're my pretty girl, hm?" He says, turning me completely around so we're facing each other.

His eyes roamed over my body slowly, teasing me with his heated gaze.

I wore a cute black dress that he had bought me with my black doc martens because I still refused to wear heels. My hair was curled slightly, reaching the middle of my back.