𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 | miguel o'hara

• 28.

༺♥༻

Alysha left a few minutes ago and my mind has been looking for a way to tell her everything since she left. I don't know how I still can look at her and talk to her without telling her. This is truly fucked up and all I feel is guilt and sadness.

My back still hurts a lot, my body didn't realize how huge he was inside of me and couldn't even feel the pain when he was inside of me, it was only after. But it's fine, I believe my back won't hurt anymore tomorrow morning, hopefully.

My doorbell suddenly echoes in my apartment, my body tries to find the strength to stand up from the couch as I walk to the door and open it. And Miguel is here, with flowers in his hands, pink tulips. Tulips are my favourite flowers, I find myself stupidly smiling at how he picked my favourite flowers without even knowing it.

"Hi." Miguel scratches the back of his neck.

"Hey." I answer with a grin as I step aside.

Miguel steps inside as the door closes, my body turns to him as he hands me the flowers, my eyes meet his as he speaks up.

"This is for you, I am sorry about this morning and... Your back." He tells me.

A little chuckle escapes my lips before I take the flowers in my hands and start looking for a vase.

"You didn't have to... But thank you very much, they're my favourites." I answer as I take a vase.

I add some water into it before putting the pink tulips in the vase as Miguel is staring at me, my eyes meet his and a shiver runs down my spine as I notice a genuine smile on his lips.

"I knew you were a tulip girl." He tells me.

My eyebrows raise in surprise, was it that obvious? I don't remember telling him so he probably just guessed it, but how? He is so insightful, way too insightful. It's almost scary.

"Was it obvious?" I ask with a head tilt as I walk to him.

"Pretty much, yeah." He whispers.

He leans against my kitchen counter as I slide both of my hands on the counter, on either side of his body, trapping him in my arms. My eyes are looking down at him as a smirk appears on my lips. My tongue slides on my inner cheek, creating a bump as I finally look up and meet his gaze, and he looks desperate.

"Don't do that..." He mumbles.

"Do what?" My lips part ways with a smirk.

My head slightly tilts to the side as Miguel stifles a laugh, I am trying to act innocent and ignorant about what I am doing but the truth is my mind knows damn well. But hide it. Or don't admit it.

"Anyway..." He starts before looking at the ceiling, avoiding my gaze, his hand slides on my waist to make me step aside, freeing himself from my arms, "What did we have to talk about?"

My eyes roll sassily, trying to ignore the fact that he just avoided my question because I made him nervous. He walks to my couch and I remember that he had to try it.

"May I?" He asks me, turning to me.

"Sure." I breathe.