𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 [slow updates]

𝟏𝟗

And then he rewards me with that laugh of his. His tongue between his teeth, his gorgeous grin spread out across his face, the slight rumbling of his body, the way he goes to cover his face. The way his laugh is so much more like a giggle than anything else.

Something blooms in my chest. Something sweet, something like anticipation, like anxiety—like butterflies. So much like butterflies that goosebumps litter my arms, spreading all over my body in this kind of euphoric—

No. Oh, my God no.

He just has a nice laugh, a pretty smile. A really nice laugh, and too pretty of a smile.

Instead of shutting my damn mouth, I say:

"You have an amazing laugh, you know that?"

Because I know he can see it on my face, the way I flushed.

It comes out in a kind of whisper. A whisper that says too much about what I'm feeling—more than my face had, and I desperately hope that he's entirely oblivious to everything and anything about women like so many men are.

His smile softens. "Why do you say it like that?"

I've already said something I didn't truly mean to, so this can't get any worse. I'm not going to lie to him about how his laugh made me, like, almost evaporate.

"Your laugh is just that great. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. It's seriously a privilege to have heard it."

Levin laughs again, this time a little less distractingly. "Thank you."

"I'm serious." I tell him, heading toward him with his water.

"I know. I said thank you."

God, he says it so softly, so angelically that I could cry from how sweet he sounds.

"Yeah, well... Now it's my turn for a compliment."

I only say that as a joke, making that very obvious with my tone, with the way I flick my hand like I'm in a two-thousands movie and my name is Regina George.

I place his water on my coffee table, taking a seat. He grabs it, sips it, and then sets it back down before flicking his tongue over his top lip.

"Every time you smile, I can't stop looking at your ears," he chuckles, his eyes sweeping over my face. Again, again, again, and again. "They sort of quirk up. And your nose kind of moves when you speak, and it's really cute.

"I've never noticed anything like that before about anyone," he says almost thoughtfully, "but those little things..." he swallows, his eyes doing the sweeping thing again. And then again, and again. "Very distracting. Very adorable."

A smile breaks my face in half. Or at least it feels like it with the way my cheeks, my jaw—my whole face, really—is hurting.

I can't help but cover my face with both of my hands.

"Stop! You're making me blush. It's embarrassing."

"You stop!" He laughs too, poking my shoulder. "I'm the embarrassed one. I didn't expect you to say anything like that."

"Did you want me to lie to you about why I looked like I was about to—" I cut myself off by covering my mouth. "I'm going to stop myself there before I say something very inappropriate."

That makes him laugh, and then I start laughing, and we just talk and laugh, laugh, laugh until our stomachs hurt. Until we realize we have to start getting ready.

I thought that when he got here, we'd watch a movie or something. We'd carry on with some small talk, but this is so much better. The laughing, the weird honesty, the normalcy of it all. With this guy I met at a damn library.