fourtyone
Aaliyah's POV
I've been staring at my reflection for a full five minutes.
The dress?
Yeah... it's doing TOO much.
Short black dress.
Soft curls.
Glossy lips.
A little shimmer on my collarbone.
I look good.
Like dangerously good.
When my phone buzzes, I almost drop it.
Leo:
I'm outside.
My heart starts breakdancing.
I slip on my heels, grab my bag, and open the door-
And nearly forget how to breathe.
Because Leo?
Is overdressed.
Black button-down.
Sleeves rolled.
Gold chain.
Dark slacks.
And his hair styled instead of messy.
He looks like someone I'd have to fight other girls off of.
He looks... nervous.
"You look..." I start.
He swallows hard.
"You're beautiful."
I blush instantly.
Then I see the bouquet in his hands-white lilies and soft pink roses.
For me.
"Leo..." I whisper.
He steps forward and hands them to me like he's scared I'll disappear if he moves too fast.
"They reminded me of you."
My knees actually wobble.
He clears his throat, trying to play it cool.
"Ready?"
I nod.
?
He takes me to some rooftop restaurant downtown.
Not fancy in the intimidating way-
just romantic, warm lighting, city skyline glowing in the background.
When the hostess seats us by the balcony, I nearly gasp.
"Leo," I whisper, "this is... beautiful."
He smirks shyly.
"Wanted somewhere nice."
He keeps glancing at me over the menu like he can't believe I'm real.
Or here.
Or with him.
Under the table, his knee keeps brushing mine-
barely-
like he's nervous but wants to be close.
?
Our waiter comes over-
young, tall, pretty-boy smile, and eyes lingering on me a little too long.
"Good evening," he says, "what can I get you, miss?"
Leo's jaw flexes.
I feel his hand slide across the table.
He takes my fingers gently-
not rough, not possessive.
Soft.
But deliberate.
I squeeze back.
The waiter gets the hint.
Leo leans in slightly, voice low.
"You good?" he asks me.
"Mhmm," I say, smiling.
Because the tension between us is delicious.
When the waiter leaves, Leo raises an eyebrow.
"He was looking too long."
"You think everyone looks too long," I tease.
His gaze drops to my lips.
Then lower.
Then back up.
"I'm right," he mutters.
My cheeks burn.
?
After dinner, we go to the rooftop railing to look at the city.
The breeze catches my curls.
Lights glow against my skin.
I'm leaning slightly over the railing, smiling at something he said.
I hear the shutter of a camera.
I turn.
"Leo?"
He freezes-mid-lowered phone-caught like a criminal.
It's adorable.
"What are you doing?" I laugh.
He hesitates.
Then lifts his phone and shows me.
And my stomach drops.
It's... beautiful.
Me laughing.
Soft curls blowing.
Dress hugging me perfectly.
Golden city lights behind me.
It looks like a magazine shot.
"Leo..." I whisper.
He steps closer, brushing my arm lightly.
"I wanted a picture of my girl," he murmurs, voice low.
"Couldn't help it."
"You never take pictures."
"Yeah," he says, cheeks going pink, "but... I want to post this one."
I blink.
"What?"
He swallows, thumb brushing my wrist.
"I wanna make it official," he says quietly.
"Let everyone know I'm with you. That you're... mine."
My breath catches.
"And you're yours," he adds softly.
"I'm not trying to claim you. I'm trying to choose you."
I feel my chest melt.
"Post it," I whisper.
He doesn't hesitate.
At all.
He opens Instagram.
Posts it raw.
No filter.
Just the caption:
And a black heart.
The notification blows up instantly.
I'm speechless.
He pockets his phone and leans down to whisper in my ear:
"Now everyone knows."
?
On the walk back, our hands brush-
once, twice-
until he just takes mine fully, lacing our fingers.
At the crosswalk, I glance up at him.
He's already staring at me.
Soft.
Warm.
Like he can't believe he gets to hold my hand in public.
"What?" I ask lightly.
He shakes his head, smiling shyly.
"I just..."
He squeezes my hand.
"You look unreal tonight."
Heat floods my cheeks.
We reach my building.
I turn toward him.
He steps closer but pauses-
waiting.
Always waiting.
Always giving me the chance to choose.
I rise up on my toes and kiss him first.
Slow.
Warm.
Deep.
He breathes out-
a shaky, quiet sound-
and cups my jaw, kissing me back fully.
Not rushed.
Not hungry.
Just... romantic.
His lips move softly against mine, thumb stroking my cheek as he pulls me in.
When we finally part, he stays close-forehead resting on mine.
"Let me take you out again," he whispers.
My smile is unstoppable.
"Okay."
He kisses me once more-quick, warm, perfect.
Then pulls back with a grin.
"Night, Liya."
"Night, Leo."
And as I walk inside, heart pounding, I check my phone-
Notifications going wild.
But one message from him stands out:
Leo:
Get home safe.
And look at the post comments-everyone knows you're beautiful.
I'm smiling like an idiot.