Blue 2

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Well, get used to the idea. Who would have known I would be moving into an apartment with the love of my life, the girl who wears ribbons in her hair and doesn't like crust without garlic on her pizza?" Blue amusedly smiles, and I laugh. He wraps his arms around my waist.

"And who would have known I would be living with a guy that has a switchblade in his pocket and loves torturing me with scary movies?" I mock him and rest my hands on his shoulders, my fingers gently pulling at the hairs on the nape of his neck.

"The movies aren't that scary, you're just a scaredy-cat," he says, and I tug his hair harder. He laughs and pulls me closer. "And I don't love torturing you, I love when you bury yourself into my chest and beg me to hold you.

"Aren't you the romantic?" I tease him. "At least now I won't have to worry about screaming because of your very scary movies and disrupting the whole hall." I will never understand his love for those kinds of movies. I've tried to persuade him into watching a light-hearted romance, but he always won the argument by using those enchanting lips of his.

"Yeah... now you get to scream as long as you want to. One of the perks of brick walls," he whispers into my ear. He brushes my hair off my shoulder and kisses the side of my neck. My heart shrinks and expands, and I try to catch my breathing. The smallest things always make me flustered.

"Okay, I get it; you have a perverted mind." I laugh.

"Perverted? I was just saying the walls are thick... what were you thinking?" He smiles, and I blush.

"Shut up, you know you meant more than that."

His lips turn into a sexy smile and he kisses my shoulder. "You're right. You know me so well. Besides the walls perfect for loud, wild sex—do you like this place? Do you imagine yourself living here with me?"

I laugh at his sex comment and nod. "Yes, this apartment flawless, for both you and me. What do you think?"

"I fell in love with it the first time I saw it. I knew you'd adore it, with the whole book shelves and extra room, which I'm planning on turning into a private dance studio for you," he replies, looking around the kitchen.

"A dance studio?" I question.

"Yeah... or is it too small? We can always knock down the wall, make it bigger," he suggests. "We'd have a smaller living room, but it'd be worth it for you." His cheeks turn pink and I try my hardest not to laugh; he's so adorable when he rambles nervously.

"No, the room is large enough. It's really sweet you'd think of me like that." I smile and take his face between my hands. When he is sweet, he sparks every part of my being and reminds me why I love him so much.

He turns sheepish and rubs the back of his neck. "The room would have gone to waste, and I want you to love the place."

"I love it whether I have a studio or not; as long as I have you here with me." I smile and watch his nervous smile turn into a grin that covers every inch of his face.

"Let's go on a date," he suggests, and it's so sudden I take a second to register his words.

"What? A date?" Have we ever even been on a date?

"Yeah. We haven't gone on one yet, not anything official at least." He shrugs, and his cheeks turn pink again. "We can go wherever you want, I've never taken a girl out before. Closest thing I've gone on a date with one is going to McDonald's with some girl I fucked in their bathroom right after." I cringe, and he regretfully apologizes, "Sorry, but yeah... what do you think?"

"I'd love to go on a date with you." We've never gone a date, it's true. The only thing I can think of is when we ate pizza in the school's greenhouse. But the whole time things were tense between us. But I do still have the peony he gave me; it's shrunken and withered, but it makes a lovely bookmark in one of my favorite novels: The Catcher in The Rye, a story with a character that reminds me of my own angsty, complicated boyfriend.