DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry # 117 - man of golden words

'I love your fucking smile'. He speaks, rubbing the corner of my mouth with his thumb. And only when I can feel his touch on my lips, I realise that I'm smiling. Smiling as in showing my teeth. Not smiling as in curling my lips in a toothless manner. Honestly, I'm very confused, because I just don't know how long I've been pulling this smile without even realising it in the first place. All I can think about is that love makes me function in silly ways, and it makes me feel like an idiot... but as long as it makes me smile, and my lover finds my smile alluring, it's all good with me. It makes two of us, being total suckers for the other's smile. And it makes two of us, going from 'I love your x unholy body part' all the way to 'I love your y holy body part'. Could it get any better than this?

'Would you be a good Cherry... and come back here with two drinks?' He asks, before I can even try to chime in, do the sappy, and tell him he has the most fucking beautiful smile in the world. That pearly white, big, blinding, beautiful and not always easily accessible smile is one of the many things about Sean that stole my heart. Another thing about Sean that stole my heart is his forwardness, his ironic forwardness especially ! I have him well figured out, and I know he's asking me to hit the bar and come back here with two drinks... because he just can't wait to check my bum out, as I disappear in the crowd, and walk back to him and him only with two drinks in my hands. This is new, this is the first time he's ever sending me to the bar instead of coming with me, or instead of doing the chivalrous and going to the bar to get us drinks, while I just sit and wait for him to be back. And honestly, I'm feeling like it. This is totally new, but I'm totally feeling the role swap. And if my bum walking to the bar keeps him going, I'll just fucking walk the bum and make sure it serves its one purpose: appealing to my boyfriend, and period. At the end of the day, haven't I earned myself a fame for being a good Cherry?

'Good Cherry summoned!' I chuckle, wide smile still on my lips, as I pinch his cheek and I stand back up on my feet. But before I wiggle my ass to the bar like I've been politely asked to, and walk back here with two beers, because I have absolutely no idea what Sean wants to drink and I think I'll be going for the safest option there is... I bend down on him, and I wipe off a big stain of red lipstick off his lips. I don't know for how long it's been there, I reckon since around the time we started to devour eachother's mouth on the way to the restroom, but prior to now, I was too high to see it and eventually wipe it off. But now I'm slightly more sane, and I'm cleaning up the mess I've made with the sole aid of my fingers. And only when my boyfriend looks a bit less like he's eaten spaghetti and he's forgotten to wipe sauce off his mouth afterwards, I smooch his lips with my now, lipstick free own ones, and I finally turn my vinyl heels towards the bar.

'I'll have an eye on you... yes I will'. He speaks, cheeky grin all over his face, and the entitlement of someone who knows that I've totally caught his drift ... and understood his intentions. I laugh, because I can't do anything else: we're just that cheesy, that naughty, yet so cute at times. And he's adorable, when he does the clingy boyfriend, has an eye on me wherever I go, and ain't afraid to confront any asshole tryna woo at me at any given moment. I literally squirm out loud, when he lifts his back from the couch, he smiles with his pearly whites full out, and he gives my buttocks a firm squeeze. Yeah, he really wanted to squeeze my ass, before I eventually started my runway to the bar, and I'm totally down for the playful groping. Heels still turned towards the bar, on the brink of heading there and giving him the show that he so fancies, I have to stall for just a little bit longer, when he slides his hand in his back pocket, and he hands his wallet over to me. Looking at me with an expression that screams 'where d'ya think you're going, without my money?' But without saying an actual word about it, because he knows that I'm gonna throw the damn wallet at him if he opens his mouth and gets too verbal. Ouch. Here we go again. But hey there, when did we unlock the level of trust in which I can have his wallet... and stick my hand in it? Freely? And away from his ever so inquisitive stare? I appreciate it, but it's not the kind of thing that I want from him. He can keep the wallet. I want the heart and the heart only.