The Scent and The Siren

‎♡‧₊˚twenty-nine ‎♡‧₊˚

𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭

"Are you happy, Belle?" Ares nuzzles in the crook of my neck.

Mmm. I close my eyes, beaming widely as I silently relish the tantalizing impact of his touch on my senses. I am lying snuggled up in his arms after our incredible dinner date, marveling at the magical glow of the Aurora Borealis illuminating the bright, starry arctic sky from the glass igloo. 

For some reason, I have gone dramatic for our date tonight in my soft blue bustier strapless ball gown with five voluminous layers of ruffled tulle. It just felt right. He has opted for a casual white shirt with rolled-up cuffs and a pair of black jeans and looks a billion bucks without even trying.

This evening has been perfect and oh-so-dreamy.

Being here like this with the guy I'm madly in love with to witness the panoramic display of celestial northern lights has been on my bucket list for quite some time. He made it happen. 

Areston Grosvenor is an incredible guy. Insanely hot. Drop-dead gorgeous. Romantic when he wants to be. And he's all mine. I count my blessings every day.

I can't stress how grateful I am to the universal powers that unclogged my brain and made me run to this hot-as-hell guy and blurt all the feelings I had been nursing for him for so long. Had it not been for that snap decision, I would've probably never found out that he felt the same for me. He had been restraining himself from acting upon it out of fear that it might jeopardize our childhood friendship.

I can't imagine my life without you either, Belle. I have loved you since the time you made your first ever cupcake in your easy bake oven and gave it to me... and the time when we were 6 years old and you painted that awful Stick Figures of you and me. You in a flower tiara and me in a hideous bowtie. You'd said you'd painted our wedding photograph. I just wasn't ready to reveal and mess up our friendship. He had said.

"I am always happy when I'm with you, Beast," I smile, rolling on top of him. He welcomes me by locking his arms around my back. I bury my fingers in his silky mane and lower my face to plant a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. "But you're well aware of that cute fact already, which explains that haughty I-KNOW-IT-ALL smile on your face."

The fierce strength of his hypnotizing gaze trapping mine makes me feel very homely. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. He is my home. My happy place. Somehow, the feeling swamps me with a strong longing to be his. I want him... I want more than just his caressing touches that delight my skin.

We have been best friends since we were babies. In our freshman year of high school, I realized that my feelings for him had transcended beyond friendship and that I had some serious hots for him. I tried to blame it on puberty, but that wasn't it. I was hit on by several handsome guys my age and a bunch of sophomores, juniors, and seniors almost every other time, but no one gave me those butterflies and dinosaurs fluttering in my belly as he would. I had started getting affected by his many flings, loathing myself for wanting to be one of them and getting agitated that he didn't feel the same about me, but I valued our friendship too much to do something stupid, so I kept pretending to be fine. And then, at the graduation ceremony of our high school junior year, my restraint finally broke when I realized that he was the one great love of my life.

Today marks our six-month anniversary of being together, and he planned this romantic surprise of flying me here to celebrate, and it's just so surreal.