✔|Entwined With You|

Chapter 37.

Julian's POV

I waited in anticipation for her to finally utter a word, the word to be particular.

"Wow..I .. ugh." She looked down and her cheeks turned into a deep red colour. "Okay...I mean- yes, yes. Yes!" She grinned sheepishly, still looking down.

"Hey! I'm not forcing you into this. It must be your decision. If you wanna say no-"

"I don't."

She cut me off and jumped over for a peck on the lips. It was the sweeest gesture I have ever experienced. How on earth can I fall in love?

But after the peck, she pulled back again, embarrassed.

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you embarrassed about?"

With a hearty laugh, I captured those lips back into a deep, passionate kiss. I felt electricity surge through me as our lips collided. I guided her little hands to my neck gently interlocking them while we devoured each other.

Her mouth opened to let out a small laugh and I took the opportunity to finally slip my tongue in tasting her, feeling her. Isn't it weird that this might just be the best kiss ever? We finally pulled back gasping for air.

"Where have you been all my life?" I asked her with a hoarse voice as our foreheads rested against each other.

"Well, I'm here now." She laughed with the same kind of voice.

"Bella...will you at least look at me?" I asked her and she finally looked at me with the eyes I've drowned into.

"Woah." Her eyes were glittering, literally. I've been longing for that glitter since the trip. "What's with the glitter in your eyes?"

"Bella... it sounds great, when you say it." She again looked down and blushed.

"Don't you ever take these eyes off mine." I cupped her chin, ready for another kiss.

"Am I interrupting something?" The stupid waiter interrupted us. Isabella hid behind me like a kid.

"What does it seem like?" I asked in irritation. "What's wrong?"

"My money..."

This dumbass.

"Here's your money." I handed him a hundred dollars as his eyes gleamed.

"Let us go home, huh?" I asked a blushing Isabella.

"Sure." She sheepishly smiled and followed me out like an obedient child.

On the drive home, I preferred to give her some silence. Instead of making conversation, I played my romantic playlist. I play it only when I'm alone, she is the first person to listen to it. When I saw her tilting her head to the beats and murmuring the lyrics, I'd never felt more proud of myself.

She was hesistant when we entered the house. Then I recalled my famous 'personality'. Is she afraid because of that?

"Shouldn't we celebrate this little success?" I asked, opening the top two buttons of my shirt.