je t'aime

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Belle's POV

Each table was covered in a smooth, white tablecloth, it hanging off the edge like an icicle on a winters day. The black tall chairs were perfectly tucked under each table, on the light wooden floors. Diamond chandeliers hung above the tables releasing pearly light beams onto our faces. There were elegant, round, small booths in the corners.
This restaurant was gorgeous. It was about half full of people. Everyone looked so orderly and pretentious, but in a good way.
We walked up to a small wooden stand, with a man in all white and bow tie stood behind it, he had excellent posture.
"Good evening, folks. Have you booked?" He spoke, in a British accent.
"Yes, the booth at the back I think it is." Michael said, pointing to the seat he wanted. I was so happy he got a booth, they looked more private and intimate.
The man nodded, "Mr and Mrs Jackson?"
"We aren't married", I say quickly.
"Oh very sorry. Mr Jackson and his girlfriend, follow me." He apologises.
It then hits me, me and Michael aren't even officially dating at this point. I feel like we have been dating forever.
We are led to the small wooden booth at the back. Menu's are laid onto the silky table cloth as we are left alone.
I slide into the booth, and sit in the middle. Michael slides in the other side, and sits close beside me.
"This is beautiful, Michael. I feel truly spoilt." I say, admiring the ceiling details.
"You are more than welcome, B." He adds, as he rests his hand on my thigh. "Did I mention you look stunning tonight?"
I chuckle and feel my cheeks redden, "Only once or twice. You look perfect, Mr Jackson." I say looking into his sparkling eyes.
It was dark in our booth, so I could only really see the outline of his facial features.
"Thank you sweet." He says gently.
I pick up a menu and scan what they have to offer. It's all written in...French? I furrow my brows in confusion as I feel Michael look at me.
"You know any French?" I say jokingly.
"Je t'aime Belle Smith." He whispers confidently.
That's the first time either of us have said the big 3 words. It takes me by surprise, but it doesn't shock me. I feel like we've been in love for a little while already. I blush intensely and respond, "Je t'aime davantage."
He tilts his head in confusion, causing me to giggle. "I love you more" I confirm.
A smile covers his face, a smile or relief. I bet he was nervous to say he loved me, even though I obviously felt the same way, he's so shy.
He leans into me and presses his sweet lips against mine, as he holds my waist. I put my hand on his cheek and we kiss passionately.
"Ahem."
Michael and I turn to see a waitress stood looking into our booth.
"Sorry to bother you, can I take you're orders?" She says.
Michael looks at her and she gasps.
"Are you Michael...Jackson?" She says, hopefully.
"Yes I am." Michael responds, signing a napkins and giving to to her in exchange for not telling anyone we're here.
Me and Michael quickly scan the menu and make our orders. I got some seafood dish and Michael got steak and wedges.
The waitress leaves quickly, stashing the napkin in her pouch.
"Where were we?" I say, moving closer to Michael.
Just moments later, our food arrives.
We scoff it down in minutes. Although the dish was small, it was delicious.
Michael takes my hand and looks me in the eyes, looking a little nervous.
"You ok?" I say, worried.
"Yes, I'm perfect. I have a question for you." He says slowly.
I nod, pushing my hair out my face.
"I feel like we've been falling for each other since we met and I want to make it official. I'd be honoured if you would be my girl. My girlfriend." He asks.
"Oh Michael, I've been waiting for you to ask." I say gushing, my heart beating rapidly.
"So it's yes?" He says raising his eyebrows in hope.
"Yes its a yes!" I squeal without hesitation, and excitedly kiss him and hold his head in my small hands.
We talk and enjoy each other's presence for about an hour longer and finish our dessert. We shared a big slice of moist, warm chocolate cake.
We decide to leave, and Michael leaves the money with the bill on the table. We walk out the doors, I have both my hands wrapped around his right arm. My boyfriend. My love.
We hop in the limo and head back to our penthouse suite.
————
We reach our room and enter the golden doors. I kick off my heels instantly and feel so much smaller, but pain free. I walk up to the bed and fall back onto it. Michael takes off his jacket and throws it onto the counter. He also kicks off his shoes and follows me onto the bed.
This has been the best day of my life. It's been so busy, and I've never felt so exhausted, but I'm high with joy.
"This was the best day of my life." Michael says, reading my mind.
Can I get anything past this boy?
"Me too babe" I say, sighing.
I look at Michael and his eyes are closed and he's stopped responding. He's fallen asleep. His face is so pure and innocent, he couldn't hurt a fly. Light snores escape his parted lips, making me smile. This is my boyfriend.
I get up from the bed and go into the bathroom, trying to make no noise so I don't wake Michael.
I remove my makeup quickly, in a hurry to go to sleep. I carelessly shove my hair into a ponytail and slip out of my dress. I realise I don't have any sleepwear, so I borrow one of Michael's shirts.
It reaches down to my knees and flops over my hands. I feel so comfortable and happy in it.
I rub my face as I walk back to the bed, my eyes practically shut.
Then I realise, Michael's still got his makeup on and is wearing a suit.
I creep back to the bathroom and grab a makeup wipe. I return to Michael and gently remove his makeup. He's so fast asleep, nothing I do could wake him.
I unbutton his shirt and trousers, so he is in just his boxers. He's so sound asleep, it makes me unconsciously smile. I pull the duvet back and get under it, carefully pulling Michael under. I switch off the lamp, and am plunged into darkness.
I lay close beside Michael.
I then feel him shuffle around to get comfortable, half asleep, as he rests his head on my chest and relaxes.
His quiet snores fill my ears, he's such an angel.
I place my hand on his head and drift off.

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