She

Butterflies

"Kristen, I can't tell you how sorry I am," Erin sighed when we got home.
"It's okay, it wasn't your fault."
"I know but... I should have asked them to get another table or... anything."
"Don't worry about it," the ring was a sad weight in the pocket of my cardigan.
She took my hand, "don't believe a word she said. You're definitely my type. And you're beautiful. And I love you."
"Do you think she still likes you?"
"It doesn't matter. I don't like her. Not one bit."
"Are you sure? She's prettier than me. And hotter than me."
She scowled, then put a finger under my chin, lifting my face, "in my eyes, no one could ever be prettier than you. So don't think that for a second." She kissed me on my lips, "and hotter? Than you?" I felt her hands on my backside, pulling me close to her, "impossible."
I laughed, putting my arms around her waist, "sorry if I was cold. It was just kind of... uncomfortable."
She smiled, "I get it. Shitty social situations aren't your thing."
I nodded, "I'm just an awkward mess."
"Oh shush," she held both my hands, "everyone's a mess. But you're a perfect one."
"I love you," I smiled.
"I love you too."
"You wanna go to bed?"
"Sure," she yawned, "as you can see I'm tired enough."
"Same here."
We held each other close in bed, both half asleep.
"Why'd you date someone who hates other humans?" I mumbled sleepily.
"She wasn't so bad back then. I think she's just bitter. We never had anything like this though. It was never... special. She never made me feel important or beautiful, or... happy, even. She was always sort of mean and selfish, I guess. But she didn't show it at first... but you," she closed her eyes, snuggling into my shoulder, "you make me feel amazing. You give me butterflies."