Our Love Is Torture

Chapter 28 - All That I'll Ever Need

'Good' is an understatement for how he looks.

He wore a black v-neck paired with a leather jacked ontop. His dark jeans hugged him in ways I really shouldn't be noticing. His eyes are the same as I always will remember. Dark brown, mesmerising. Dark thick lashes. Intensity to burn.

He stands up and smiles, I don't miss out on the way he takes me in before doing that. The way his eyes darken as soon as he saw me, and how he looks at me from head to toe before shaking his head, standing up and smiling.

We are close. About five inches, one step. He always towers over me. Five foot nine, to my five foot two. I hate how good he looks. I hate his stupid angel face. Strong, furrowed brows. Sharp jaw. Lips that are full enough to be called pretty. He's always been like that. By the width of his shoulders I could tell he still works out, he's been working out since his college days, as per Shanyana sources. Not a huge amount but enough for me to see clear muscle definition beneath his dark T-shirt.

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I want to slap myself for that reaction. There you go, A point to him for showing up looking more attractive than ever. Douche. 

"Hi," he says like he dosen't he remember what happened last time.

"Hello, Rohan." He stares at me, and as usual, I feel the vibration of him in the marrow of my bones.

"You look good, Aisha." He smiles like no other, making those dimples appear on the side of his cheeks.

"You too."

He takes a step closer and I hate the way he looks at me. Appraising and approving. Hungry. It draws me in against my will, like he's flypaper, and everything inside me is buzzing and trying to wrench itself free.

Still smiling, he turns himself sideways, putting his arm out, "You ready Mà dàme?" He speaks in a posh style.

I laugh, it meant 'My lady' it was cute how he learnt that in french but still pronounced it wrong.

I wrapped my arm around his, "Àbsolûmenț võtre àtešše!"
He frowned, "What does that mean?" He asked, giving the driver a nod, mentioning a thank you as he drove off.

"It means 'absolutely your highness!'" I told him, as we started to walk.

"Hmm.... last time I checked, I'm not anyone's highness," Rohan said, the enchanting smile of his never fading.

I nudged his arm playfully, "Last time I checked, I wasn't your lady either!" I winked, his smile widned as he tilted his head to get a clearer look at me.

"Yet." He confirmed, winking back, as it was so easy for him to say that, it also secretly made my heart skip a beat. That never happens to me, I'm being very unlady like. What the hell.

"Where are we going?" I questioned, trying to ignore the tingly sensation I was getting by just holding his arm.

"Having Dinner at the first floor of the Eiffel Tower, restaurant 58 Tour Eiffel." He said, staring ahead, keeping his pace going.

I went pale. My eyes were on him the whloe time, "Why?" I whispered, why would he do this, too expensive, too first class for me. I don't belong in one of the world's best restaurants, I belong at a chippe shop by the street.

Rohan shrugged his shoulders, "Why not?" He claimed, with a smirk. My grip on his arm tighten, we were literally beneath the Eiffel now, I was getting more and more nervous as each second went by.

After finding our way through the elevator, we entered the 58 tour restaurant. And holy shit! It was so beautiful.

"Oh my god..." I mumbled, gawking at the place. Soft lighting and minimalist furnishings decorate the restaurant so well. Sweet but not to upstage and the same time. The beauty of the place is the city of lights, flashing lights, the entire place is surrounded by glass were you can see the view from.