Clarity

30

CLARITY

I raise my hand over my school desk and smile at the unbelievable engagement ring Olias gave me on New Year's seven months ago.

It's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Keeping my eyes off of it becomes an everyday task. Several smaller ones surround the large diamond in the center. He still refuses to tell me how much it cost him.

Since I said yes to marrying Olias Grey someday, nothing but happiness has filled my life.

Sitting in the third row of my first-year biology class at UCLA, with my notes in front of me and the professor teaching upfront, I feel like I'm living in a dream.

It's been only three weeks since I parted from my fiancé.

God, I love saying that.

Fiancé. I smile to myself.

He cried a lot before I left, I nearly missed my plane. But we've called each other every day since just so I can make sure he's doing okay without me at home, especially with our fur babies—

"Clarity, may you please tell us the simple definition of a pathogen and an example?"

I'm pulled out of my thoughts of Olias and turn to face professor Hugz.

She's my favorite professor solely because of her last name.

I clear my throat nodding. "Pathogens are organisms that feed on other organisms. They travel from one host to another in different ways like air, skin contact, blood— you get the idea. An example of a pathogen is viruses." I grin. I smashed that question to the ground.

Hugz nods. "Nicely put, thank you." She turns back to the smartboard and continues to teach.

Holding my hand, I feel the urge to call Olias whenever I participate in my classes. He always responds with a good job.

"You're smart," The guy beside me leans over to whisper. I turn to look at him, dark-skinned with a short haircut and has a nice smile. He's sat beside me for the past three weeks in this class. He borrowed a pen from me once, though I don't know his name. I’m pretty sure he’s never given me back that pen.

"Oh, thank you..." I look at his notebook to see his name written on it. "Wesley."

He chuckles, glancing at Hugz, who's writing something on the smartboard. "It's Wes. No one calls me Wesley."

I stick out my hand. "Nice to meet you, Wes. I'm Clarity." He pulls his hand from under the table and shakes mine just as Hugz wraps up the class.

I stand up, and so does Wes, gathering his things.

I bite my lip, anticipating my FaceTime call with Olias just like every day after this class.

"I know your name," Wes says.

I slip on my backpack. "You do?"

Walking out from behind the table, we walk together towards the hoard of students exiting the class. "Yeah," Wes says. "You're in my class and sit right beside me."

Oh, right, I'm an idiot.

"What year are you?" he asks as we step outside the classroom. I look up at him. He's tall—not as tall as Olias, though—my 6'5"giant.

After finding out Olias and The Rock are the same height, I keep calling him my pebble, and it's safe to say that he hates it.

I nearly forgot I was asked a question. "Freshmen. You?"

Am I making a friend? I haven't made one yet besides my roommate, Imani.

He nods, a grin sitting on his face. His teeth are really shiny. I wish I had his teeth, geez. "Same. I just joined the Frat, actually. Hey," he puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in the middle of the hallway. Are you free this weekend? We throw parties every Saturday night."

I twist my lip at that question. Olias had told me not to trust Fraternity guys. He specifically told me several curse words to repeat if I was asked to a party. But I won't curse out someone I know, let alone someone I've just met.

Pushing my hair from my face behind my ear, I feel nerves rising. Is he a bad guy? "Uh... I don't go to parties. I have a lot of studying to do."

He nods. "Understandable, Hugz is fucking drowning us with the notes." He starts walking again and I feel myself relax.

"I know, right? I'm freaking out because the first test is in two weeks."

He raises his hand. "I'm contemplating dropping out of this shit already." I laugh, nodding. "Do you have the notes from last week? I was busy and didn't come to class. You seem like someone who takes good notes."

I nod. "Yeah, but it's in my dorm a few minutes away. I'll get it for you."

Walking towards the path to my dorm hall, we begin to talk about all sorts of things: our classes, the terrible food in the diner that I still eat despite the money Olias has given me, Professor Hugz's funny name, and the hot weather of Los Angeles.

Stopping at my dorm hall building, I grab my keys as Wes speaks again, "Do you want to hang out sometime? Like, get to know each other? You seem chill."

Opening the building door, I feel awkwardness rise. "No, I don't," I say bluntly, just like Olias told me to.

He nods, "Well shit, okay. Boyfriend?" We walk to the elevator, and I call it down.

I shake my head, raising my left hand to display my engagement ring. "Fiancé, actually—"

"You're fucking engaged?! Holy shit, how old are you?"

"Eighteen— I mean nineteen. Today is my birthday, August 2nd. I can't believe I'm twenty next year— sorry, I'm getting off track. My fiancé, Olias, gets kind of jelly when it comes to other guys around me, so please don't ask me for stuff like that again. Or I'll have to curse at you." I'll never curse at someone.

We step into the empty elevator, and it closes. Wes chuckles and says, "Got it. Forget I even asked then. And happy birthday, too."

"Thanks..." He's the first one actually to say that to me today.

Now that I think about it, Olias hasn't talked to me today. I wonder if he's hurt or if he just forgot today's my birthday. I'm hoping it's neither.

"Engaged at nineteen, damn. He's a lucky guy." Wes looks sideways at me, his eyes scanning my jeans and cropped white tank top I wear.

I had to buy an entire new wardrobe when I came to California.

I hum in protest as the elevator door opens. "I'm the lucky one, I'm sure."

"How'd you guys meet?"

I hesitate before answering. "Uh, he saved me from falling."

"Like tripping?"

I smile, gathering my keys from the chain around my neck. "Something like that." I go to stick the key in the door just as the door opens.

My roommate, Imani, stands on the other side in the common area, dressed to leave. She has nice, long box braids with gold clips on them. She's my only friend here, and she's really nice. I don't know if anyone else is nice because I haven't been social. Making friends has never been my forte.

Her eyes are wide; they dart between Wes and me. "Clarity," she starts. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, Wes just needs last week's Biology notes," I explain. We have a “ no guys in the dorm” rule that Olias loves.

Imani looks at Wes, and he smirks, extending his hand out, "I'm Wes Johnson; I'll be in and out. Two seconds."

Holding her laptop, she shakes his hand. "Imani Larson. And advise that you do. I don't want blood on the walls."

I furrow my brows. "Why would there be blood on our walls?"

She glances at me. "No reason. I have to go, Clarity. See you on Monday."

"You're out for the weekend?" I've never been alone in the dorm before. "I'll be by myself?"

She turns around and looks at me over my shoulder. "Oh, I think you'll be okay." I can practically hear a smile on her face. She turns the corner and goes down the stairs.

Walking into the dorm, I sigh. I check my phone. No text from Olias. It's nearly six at night, and he usually texts me every hour like a maniac.

"She's fucking pretty," Wes says behind me as I walk through the common area of our suite and push my key into my dorm room.

"Yeah, she is—"

Opening the door, my heart jumps into my throat at the sight of Olias sitting on my bed.

He's dressed nicely, the dark curls that I begged him not to cut off styled over his forehead. His tattoos are shown through his white shirt under the unbuttoned gray and white flannel he wears. His left hand houses his engagement ring and a few more tattoos on the back of his hand. What is he doing here?

He stands up, but his face doesn't match my excitement. And it's now that I realize exactly how this might look to him.

Olias' jaw tightens as he stands up, looking between Wes and me. "Who the fuck are you?" He steps closer to us as I walk towards him.

I shake my head. "Wes this is Olias, my fiancé. Olias, this is Wes, my classmate. He needs the notes—"

Olias grips my bare waist, bringing me closer to him. "I don't care what he needs, I don't want him in your room."

Wes puts up a hand, stepping out of the room. "Hey man, I'm good. You don't have to worry about me and your girl. She already told me all about you. We're just friends."

Olias lets go of my waist, sliding his hands in his pants pockets, and walks towards Wes. He sizes him, eyes so threatening I feel scared for Wes. "Try something on her and—"

"I told you, bro, you don't have to worry about me. What do I look like wrecking homes?" He extends his hand to do one of those man handshakes probably.

Olias looks at his hand, and for a second, I don't think he'll take it, but he does, giving a short brotherly handshake.

I smile. I love him.

Walking towards my desk, I pull out the folder with my notes and flip through it to last week, taking out the day Wes needs. Then, walk back to hand it to him.

I link with Olias' arm beside me as I speak. "You can just make a copy and give it to me tomorrow in class."

Wes nods, taking it,.” Thank you. And see you at the party?" He turns to Olias, says, "You can come too, bro. It's tomorrow."

I talk first, "I'd love to, but I can't—"

"We'll be there," Olias says nonchalantly. I turn to him, confused. He's the one who told me not to go to them.

"Okay, cool, I'll tell you the details in class," Wes tells me. I say goodbye, watching him close the door.

"We're going?" I question Olias, looking up at him.

He locks the room door before gluing his hands to my hips and then the small of my back, bringing me flush against his body into a hug. I lean up, wrapping my hands around his neck just as he lifts me onto him. My legs wrap around his hips, and he grabs my butt.

"Yes, we are. You just said you wanted to." His voice is low as he takes me to my side of the room, lowers me on the bed, and hovers over me.

"You said before not to g—"

"I shouldn't control you like that. You can go to parties if you want. You can have any friend you want to. Even if they're... guys ,” he mutters the last part. “I’ll have to live with sharing you a little.”

I place my hands on his cheeks. "But if it makes you feel bad, I won't."

He shakes his head. "I trust you, Clare. You're my fiancée, not my property." He lowers his head and kisses my lips, and my body melts into the bed.

I haven't felt his lips or touch in three weeks, and it feels like he's burning my skin under my cropped tank top.

"What made you come and visit?" I question, rather sadly. Please tell me that you remember.

He hums, pulling away from me. "Did you expect me to miss my Fiancée's birthday?"

I grin widely. He remembered. Of course, he remembered.

Squealing, I hug his head against my chest, and he chuckles, squeezing me back.

Releasing, he lifts off the bed and walks towards my closet. "Got you something."

Looking questioningly, I follow his movement as he pulls out a boutique of flowers and several bags. I glance at the Gucci symbol on one of the bags, and my eyes widen even more than they are.

" Olias ," I start, sitting at the edge of the bed. He smiles, lowering the bags to the desk beside the bed and the flowers in my hands.

"Happy birthday, my pretty girl," He kisses me. "I love your sexy ass."

Peeing. My eyes haven't peed happily in a bit. It's only a sad one for being away from Olias for so long. They swell my eyes as I turn over the card on the flowers. A picture of Olias with Dog, Kat, and Olity. I read the back that says:

W e miss you, happy birthday, baby.

A cry breaks through me, and I look up at him. "I missed you guys too."

He grins, showing me his signature dimple, bringing his thumb to my cheek and brushing my tears away. "I have something else to show you. It's half an hour away but I’d call off any plans you have today. You're spending your birthday with me.

I look out the window. Finally, the sun is setting. Especially since it's August, it feels like the days are ten times as long.

"If eating ice cream while watching Gilmore Girls is considered a plan, then I'll put it off."

He pulls my hand, getting me off the bed. "When we come back, we can watch that or do whatever else you want." I look up at him, catching on to his dirty hints and smile.

"Horndog," my cheeks still burn for him after nearly a year, and I don't think they'll ever stop. I grab the new pretty pink flowers, find a vase on my desk, and replace the old ones.

Turning to the garbage to throw the dead flowers out, a gentle smack connects with my butt cheek and then a firm squeeze.

I yelp, turning around into Olias arms. He wraps his other arm around me, squeezing my other cheek.

"You look so fucking good,” he hums, kneading me in his palms. "How am I supposed to contain myself with you looking this hot?"

I drop my head into his chest to hide my flustered face. I probably look like a tomato.

Olias only laughs, taking my hand. "I missed getting you all hot. Come on, let's go."

***

Riding in the car through Los Angeles still amazes me. I still can't quite believe he's here with me, one foot away in the car driving. Warm air passes through the open window, skewing my hair in every direction.

A few palm trees on every street. I'd never seen palm trees before coming to UCLA, and I never thought I'd love trees so much.

Olias’ hand sits high on my thighs, and he has silver rings on his finger. I like his new taste in jewelry. I watch him drive with one hand. The red ring from last year, along with the engagement ring, still stays on his finger. He said he doesn't want any other rings but those on that hand.

I turn to look at him, and he glances sideways from the road to me. A smile rests on my face.

"Can you make a quick stop at a store? I want to get snacks," I bite my bottom lip, imagining cheese and crackers.

Olias nods, slowing down to double park several seconds later in front of a small store. I reach into my pocket for money, but he grabs my hand.

"Clare, you should know by now," he says, opening a small compartment in the front and pulling out his wallet. He opens it and hands me one of the several fifty-dollar bills inside.

I take it, leaning towards him to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

Pulling away, he catches my jaw, stopping me and staring back at the green of his eyes glowing in the moonlight. He takes a long while to look at me. Then, that addictive gaze darts to my lips just as he turns his head to kiss me slowly. I close my eyes, and a shiver runs down my arms despite it being nearly scorching level weather here.

Breaking away, I bite down on my bottom lip. I've missed him so much.

I see his cheeks glow red in the faint orange tint of the streetlamp from blush, his defined jaw muscles tightening, flexing. He drops his hand to pinch my chin softly.

"When we get back, you can show me just how thankful you are," he says, lifting his thumb up to my bottom lip and pulling it from between my teeth. " With your mouth," he says.

Now, my cheeks feel burned to the touch. I need to shy away behind my hair, but I don't. Clarity several months ago would've.

I only smile, squinting. "You have a dirty mouth, Sunshine."

He smirks. "You love it.”

Silently laughing, I turn away, opening the car door and not saying a single word else. He wins every freaking time.

Shutting his car door, I bend over to look through the window at Olias adjusting himself in his seat.

"Do you want any snacks from the store?" I ask, and he looks at me, then immediately at my boobs at full display to him with help from the low-cut neckline of my shirt. He's such a horndog.

His mouth hangs open. "Shit," he whispers.

I tilt my head. "Mm, I don't think they sell that. I heard you can get that for free on your own, though."

He finally looks at my eyes through his lashes. "Get your sexy ass in the store before I take you in the back seat."

Smiling, I lean up and turn around—a smirk of my own on my face.

I win.

The street lit up by streetlamps, and the moon above pave the few steps across the sidewalk towards the store.

I step in, a bell indicating my arrival, and wave friendly hello at the store owner behind the desk.

I'm not sure where Olias plans on taking me at nearly eight at night, but I'm sure it'll be amazing as always.

I love how I'm never bored with him, never a moment I wish I was somewhere else, and never a second that I would've spent with anyone other than my Fiancé.

Grabbing a bag of chips from an aisle, I realize I never got what Olias actually wanted.

He doesn't like sweet stuff; his favorite cereal is Cheerios, for Christ's sake.

I'll get him the Original Pringle.

"Clarity?"

Air dissipates from my lungs, and my body freezes, stiffening at the sound of that voice behind me.

That wasn't Olias.

I don't dare turn around. I imagined it. Yes, imagine.

Swallowing, I reach for the Pringles to put with the several other snacks I've gathered in my hands just as a hand touches my shoulder.

"Clari—"

I spin around, dropping all of the things I was holding onto the floor, and jump several feet back to face Jonah Foyer.

His name alone causes bile to fill the back of my throat. The aisle of food traps me from the other side of the store.

" Jonah ," my voice shakes. He looks different. His hair has grown out more, and a scar runs across his cheek. But his face—his face will always stay the same terrible way.

He huffs a laugh. "I didn't think I'd see you here. Happy birthday." I watch him lift his foot to step closer.

My blood runs cold, so many terrible memories resurfacing.

I step back with each step he takes.

Olias , I need Olias.

Jonah's thick brows furrow, and he puts his hands up. "Clarity, chill, I just want to talk."

"I don't want to talk to you," I say sternly just as my back hits a wall. I turn my head, I’m surrounded by chips and cakes and stuck with the boy who nearly raped me. Tears swell in my eyes, my hands hugging myself.

"How did you get free? How are you even he—here?" Breathing feels like a workout.

He steps closer. "They lowered my sentence and put me on probation. Something about needing space. Look Clarity, I hate the way you remember me. I'm not the bad guy, remember? I even moved across the country after getting out." He smiles, "It's so good to see you, I almost forgot—"

If I could seep through the wall, I would. But when his hand comes up to touch my face I lose every calm bone in my body.

Attempting to get away, I shout and push his chest; blurriness clouds my vision as I'm suddenly held back against the wall, a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.

"Shh," he says, his body so close I could vomit in his hand. "Chill out, Clarity, I've changed." He's panting, looking behind him as if wondering whether anyone has noticed the commotion.

No one has. No one has even walked past the back of the store.

I lift my hands to scratch at his hand, trying my best to get my mouth free to scream for help. With a heart hammering against my chest, my strength is far from gone and replaced with familiar anxiety and panic.

I shut my eyes tightly, and tears welled up in them. He was speaking, but I couldn't hear him through the pounding in my head.

He grabs my left hand, and I open my eyes.

"What the hell is this?" He questions, looking at my engagement ring. His gaze shifts to me, "You're married? To who? That pussy, huh." He scoffs. "The one you sent to my house, pretending you were so hurt."

I wasn't pretending. I was hurt.

Thinking quickly, not being scared of such a terrible man anymore, I bring my knee up and ram it between his legs, causing him to groan and his grip to loosen.

Breaking away, I gasp and scream, “Olias!”

But before I can run, Jonah grabs my hand, yanking me back. I grab a can from the shelf and hit it against his head just as Olias appears behind him. He grabs Jonah away, and I gasp for air, clutching my shirt against my chest, watching Olias throw Jonah into the rack of food, the entire shelf collapsing on him.

Olias' face is more furious than I've ever seen it as he bends over and grabs Jonah by the collar. "Seems she didn’t quite need my help this time, hm? What the fuck did I tell you all those months ago? I told you to stay away from her. And where are you now? With your fucking hand on her body," he wraps his throat around Jonah’s neck, and I only worry about Olias getting in trouble.

"You married my leftovers?" Jonah chuckles at Olias, and my body feels empty and numb. "Clarity, how about you tell him how good I—"

Olias sends a punch against Jonah's jaw, and the sound of his rings contacting bones chimes through the store. Blood appears.

Olias gets closer and harshly whispers, "She doesn't remember anything about you. Y’know why? Because you're buried far under the many times that she’s comei67 around my dick. Y'know, something you never done.” Olias stands up. “So, I'd shut your fucking mouth, save yourself from embarrassment."

Bystanders are leaving the store, and the guy behind the counter is on the phone, his eyes wide.

Cops, no .

I skitter to Olias as he brings his fist back, and I grab it. He's heaving hard, looking at my ex-boyfriend like murder runs through his head.

Olias doesn't look at me, but I turn his face to me with my hand. "The cops. He's not worth any of this."

Breathing through his mouth, he stares at me long before his shoulder relaxes a bit. He nods, grabbing my hand and linking it with his.

I look at Jonah lying in the pile of food bags, and for a moment, I wish I had let Olias finish with him. But I quickly pull my attention away from Jonah to Olias, dropping several hundred-dollar bills on the counter in front of the man behind it.

"Sorry for the mess. That should cover everything and more," Olias mumbles, leaving the man wide-eyed.

I quickly pull out of the store and run towards Olias' car. He opens the door for me, and I climb in before he gets into the driver's seat.

He looks at me, panting.

"What?" I question the look on his face.

"Seatbelt, baby."

I nod, find the seatbelt, and pull it down. The click is Olias' queue to drive off.

Sniffling, I glance at him, anger still carving into his face and white knuckles glued around the steering wheel, one of them cracked and bleeding.

"Did he hurt you?" He looks at me, he speaks, his eyes on the road. I tell him no. “Good. You did well, beating his ass before I got there.” He turns to me with a wide, proud grin. His shoulders visibly relax. "He isn't going to ruin your night, alright?" His hand extends to my knee and rubs it.

I nod with a content smile. "Okay."

***

"You didn't tell me we'd be hiking ," I say in between laughs as he pulls my hand up the path toward the Hollywood sign.

I kick a rock to the side and silently thank myself for choosing to wear sneakers today. I was expecting maybe dinner, but hiking?

"We're almost there," Olias says, holding a few blankets and a book bag on his back. "Look."

I raise my head from the dirt path and look towards where he points.

The Hollywood sign.

I noticed it when we began walking up, but I hadn't realized that was where we were headed.

"Isn't this illegal?" I say, widening my eyes to see better in front of me through the dark.

He shrugs beside me. "A little."

“Olias!”

I pull his hand, and he chuckles. "It's okay. I paid off the security before we came here."

My shoulders relax a bit. But my paranoia? Not so much. "Still doesn't make us safe. What if someone finds us?"

We finally get to the sign, and the letters are much larger than I expected them to be. Olias turns to me and grips my hip with his free hand.

"That's the fun of it all, Clare. The risk and fear of getting caught."

Turning, he opens the blanket, putting it over the grass under the sign and then another. Then he sits down, slides off his shoes, and sets them aside.

I can't believe we're actually here, sitting under the freaking Hollywood sign. If I had a bucket list, this would definitely be something I would cross off it.

Following Olias, I slip off my shoes and sit beside him, a slight warm breeze falling over us. Olias lays down, putting a balled-up blanket under his head, then looks up at me, taking my arm and bringing me closer to him.

"Come here. It should be any minute now," he says, his voice low. I bite my lip in anticipation, curiosity cutting through me as I drop down into his arms, fitting perfectly at his side.

"What should be any minute?"

He points to the sky.

I lift my head and for the first time, I really look at the sky of California. Scattered with a few stars, you can just barely make them out. The full moon is clear as day as well. In New York, the city is too bright; stars are never visible, not even one. But here, in California, they’re barely visible. And that’s enough for me.

"They're beautiful," I whisper.

He shrugs below me, stroking my temple. "Mmm, I think I've seen better.”

"But look now ," he adds.

I glue my eyes to the sky, and just as I do, a large star shoots across it, leaving a trail of white behind in its path. A sharp gasp leaves me, my eyes widening into a smile. Then several more stars—no, meteors? There are so many, dozens, shooting across the sky.

"Close your eyes and make a wish," Olias whispers.

I shut my eyes, thinking of the one thing I hope for in the future—a wish I would never tell Olias, in fear he would feel sad for me.

I hope that in the future, I'll be able to carry babies without the difficulty and danger involved.

I open my eyes and look up at Olias, blinking hard so I won't start tearing. "Finish."

"Me too." I roll over to lay entirely on his body, my chin resting on my folded hands on his chest. He pushes a strand of hair from over my face behind my ear. "What did you wish for?"

I shake my head. "I can't tell you, or it won't come true."

He laughs through his nose. "Alright, well I had wished to spend the rest of my life with you—" I clasp a hand over his mouth.

"You can't say it! It won't come true ," I scold him.

Olias laughs, licking my palm, and I shriek, pulling my hand back. "It's already come true, Clarity. You're mine . For life."

He lifts his head, softly pressing his lips against mine. Delicate yet intense emotions fly through me so fast I can barely keep my head.

I whimper into his mouth, and he lets on a sigh through his nose, wrapping an arm around my waist and flipping me over into my back.

OLIAS

I can't get enough of her.

No matter how close we are, no matter how much we talk, or how much I'm touching her. She always seems so close, yet not close enough.

Trailing my lips along her jaw, she moans out my name, and I press my groin into her hips at the sound of her.

So soft, quiet, longing for me. More of me.

"I'm here," I softly bite the skin of her heated neck. "I'm yours. All yours, forever."

Her hands find my hair, and she pulls it to bring my head to her lips again.

I lift my head and smile, taking her lips against mine and giving her what she wants.

Her leg comes up between my legs, her though pressing against my dick. I moan, squeezing the side of her thigh.

Then she groans, but in a way that makes me stiffen. I immediately pause, watching her face wince in pain.

I rise. "You okay, Clarity?"

She sits up, holding her stomach, and I have nearly forgotten about her condition.

"Medicine," she whispers, pointing to her small bag sitting beside our shoes. I quickly reach over and open it, pulling out the strong pain pills she's prescribed. Twisting it open, worried as shit, I look up at her, still gripping her stomach.

I pour her two pills and grab the water bottle on the side of my bag, handing it to her. "Here."

She grabs it, downing the pills, and drinks the water right after.

I take hold of her hand, my eyes glued to her. Wish there was someone else who would take her pain instead of her. Someone deserving of it.

She's already taken shit from so many people, and she doesn't deserve her body turning on her as well.

She takes a few breaths, I stroke her hand. After a few minutes of consoling her, I ask, "Feeling better?"

She nods, sighing. "A little. I'm sorry," Disappointment covers her expression.

I shake her head, pulling her into a close hug on my lap. "You're sorry for nothing. I'm just as grateful to be sitting here holding you. We can be sexy later."

I even use her words. I might not acknowledge it sometimes, but this woman has changed me entirely—mind, body, spirit, and every single corner of my heart. She's changed it, making me mushy, soft, and loving.

She's shown me there's always a reason to live, and she was mine.

"I have to ask you something," I say, looking at California below us.

"Yeah, sunshine?"

"What... about me made you fall in love?"

She leans into my chest and hums. "Easy." She says, pausing. "You stabilized me, and then because someone I could rely on. Did you know I had no friends? You were my first friend.” She looks up at me, and I see her beautiful brown eyes and smile. "And you showed me how much I'm meant to be loved. I fell dangerously in love with you for that, Olias Grey. To the point where I couldn't think of anything but you," She kisses my jaw.

I kept a smile plastered on my face the entire time. "Never stop," I say, bringing my forehead to her again, "loving me, please."

Reassurance. With no one else but her in my life, I need reassurance. She lifts her pinky finger, and I look at it, lifting my tattooed pinky shortly after to link with hers.

She smiles. "I never will, I promise."