Chapter ? I am.
Emma Green’s been mine for three months now.
I asked her to be my girlfriend at the Halloween school party. She said yes.
“I wanna be only yours,” I whispered in her ear while Adele’s One and Only played. “And I want you to be only mine.”
She looked up at me with this smile—God, the softest one I’ve ever seen.
“I am.”
She was dressed as a zombie painter. Basically, a regular zombie, but with a paintbrush dripping fake blood. I went as a shadow. Literally, just wore all black like every other day of my life.
And since then? We’ve barely spent time apart. Even when she had to stay late working on her art project at school, I’d just bring a book and chill nearby. No talking. Just existing near her.
I’m in love for the first time. And I can’t imagine this feeling ever belonging to anyone else.
Emma’s been busting her ass trying to get into the Academy of Fine Arts.
Today, she found out she didn’t make it.
The only reason I even know that is because Lauren told me at lunch—Emma hadn’t shown up all day.
So, I picked up some chocolate and a fresh set of paintbrushes and headed straight to her place.
Time to do the boyfriend thing.
I knock twice at her door, tugging my shirt to look a little more human. This is the first time I’m meeting her parents.
Her mom opens and gives me a warm smile the second she sees me. “You must be Luca.”
“In the flesh. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Green.”
Their house is totally different from mine. First off, they live on the city outskirts, in a more laid-back neighborhood. Second, their house feels… like a home. Cozy. Not like mine, which feels like a sterile museum with no soul.
“Emma’s in her room. Careful opening the door—she’s been throwing stuff,” she says, glancing up the stairs. “Want something to drink?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
I head upstairs, chocolate in one hand, brushes in the other. One of the doors is painted bright fuchsia and has a giant glittery “E” slapped in the middle. Yeah, no doubt, that’s her.
I knock. Twice.
“Go away!” Her voice is muffled and 100% wrecked.
“But I brought your two favorite things: brushes and chocolate.”
Silence. Then I hear her footsteps running toward the door—best damn sound I’ve ever heard.
She swings it open. Her eyes are red and puffy, lips trembling. God, she looks like a mess. A heartbreakingly beautiful one.
“Come here,” I say, opening my arms.
She crashes into me like she’s been waiting all day for this exact moment. “I didn’t get in,” she whimpers against my chest.
“I know.”
“I hate them!”
I start rubbing her back in slow circles with my free hand. “Okay, so we’re clearly breaking into their offices and replacing all the art with finger paintings. Anonymously, of course.”
She pauses. And then she breaks into full-on laughter. The kind that pulls from the belly and shakes her whole body. “You’re the worst.”
That’s the thing about Emma. One dumb joke, one stupid little spark, and suddenly the whole sky lights up again.
We ended up spending the rest of the afternoon eating chocolate in her bed.
And I swear, that was one of the best moments of my life.
It’s been four months. Four months of being Emma Green’s boyfriend.
And today… she said it. She told me she loves me. Not just that—she said she’s ready. Ready, ready.
My brain stopped working. My heart's doing parkour in my chest, and my dick practically high-fived me.
I managed to convince my dad to let me use my savings to rent a cabin a couple of hours away from the city. Had to work my ass off—grades, chores, all of it. But he finally said yes.
When I get to her house, she walks out dragging two huge duffel bags.
How long does she think we’re staying?
I jump out of the car and pop the trunk. “Excuse me, what is all this?”
“Ugh, Luca,” she groans, already frazzled.
“I don’t know how many outfit changes I’ll need!
And what if I can’t sleep? I don’t sleep well in strange beds.
So, I brought three books—sci-fi, romance, and this one on ancient painting techniques.
And I figured if there’s a view, I’ll want to paint, so I brought—”
I cut her off with a kiss, pressing her back against the car. She’s nervous. It’s obvious. But also, adorable.
Yeah, I’ve done this before—not as much as she probably thinks—but enough to know exactly what I want to do to her body this weekend.
“You’re not gonna have time to sleep,” I murmur against her nose. I kiss her brow. “Or paint. “I kiss her cheek. “Or do anything that doesn’t involve me.”
She exhales a shaky laugh and nods, smiling like she’s still half-terrified, half-thrilled.
We hit the road. I put on Coldplay, because of course. And like always, we end up deep in one of Emma’s philosophical spirals.
“Do you think happiness is just a chemical reaction? Or something bigger?”
She’s staring out the window, chin in hand, already over it. “I don’t know!” she huffs. “I don’t want to think it’s just chemicals in my brain. I want to believe it’s you. You make me happy.”
I grin and rest my hand on her thigh. “I make you happy?”
“Yes, gargoyle. You know you do.”
I squeeze her knee a little, still watching the road. I don’t say it enough, but sometimes I look at her and wonder how the hell I got so lucky. She’s all color and brightness, and I’m… the absence of all that.
“You make me happy too, Em.”
She finally turns to look at me, giving me that scrunchy-eyed smile that makes me think about what we’ll look like at seventy. Wrinkly and still like this.
The cabin’s perfect. Warm pine walls rise around me, their honeyed scent faint but comforting, like sap and woodsmoke.
Huge windows frame the kind of mountain view you only see on postcards—jagged peaks dusted with snow, the treeline dark and endless.
A stone fireplace anchors the room, logs stacked neatly beside it, though the ashes in the grate tell me it was lit last night.
The floor creaks softly under my boots, rugs scattered here and there to cut the chill.
Outside, the wind whistles faintly, carrying the crisp bite of alpine air.
It’s still cold, but the forecast says it’ll warm up tomorrow.
I know I said some intense stuff earlier about keeping her in bed all weekend, but the truth is, I just wanted this. A chance to be alone with her. No drama. No Silas and Lauren chaos. No parents breathing down my neck. Just us.
I drop our bags in the room and sit on the bed, bouncing a bit to test the noise level. Nothing. Silent. Perfect.
Wait. Is that nerves I feel?
Shit.
But then she walks in, and all that weird buzzing in my chest fades instantly.
“Come here, Em,” I say, spreading my legs so she can settle in.
She curls into me, her head in my neck. “Gargoyle… I gotta tell you something,” she whispers. “I’m kinda nervous.”
I nod, rubbing slow circles on her back like I always do when she’s on edge. “I know. And hey, there’s no pressure. I didn't bring you here to make things happen. I just wanted to be with you.”
She lifts her head, and those green eyes of hers go straight through me. “I do want to. That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.”
“Wanna go for a walk first? Check out the town, find something to eat?” I’m nervous too. But I’m hiding it for her. That’s the deal.
“No,” she says, serious suddenly. “I’ve been losing sleep since you booked this place. I want to do this. Now.”
I laugh and pull her tighter. “You’re freaking adorable, you know that?” I kiss her neck. She squirms like always, giggling.
“Okay, okay—wait, I have an idea.” I get up, head to my bag, and pull out two bottles—one in each hand. “For the nerves,” I say with a wink.
Her eyes go wide, and she gives me this wicked grin.
God, I love this girl.