The Artists Secret

"This is beautiful." I whisper, turning to look at him. 

"Really?"

"Of course." I smile, turning back to the painting. "I love it."

Everything's perfect. The way his hair falls across his forehead. The way I cross my legs at an awkward angle. Even the way our fingers fit together across the coffee table is perfect. Our coffee orders are down to the T. In the painting he's wearing my favorite one of his shirts and I'm wearing the jeans that I think make my ass look amazing. He couldn't have possibly done any better. Upon closer inspection I notice that the pink and white flecks in his eyes are hearts and my heart stops for a second before hammering double time.

"You do?" He asks tentatively.

I nod and push my glasses up the bridge of my nose. "Yeah, I do."

"Well, I'm glad." He lets out a shaky sigh. "I was worried you wouldn't and I spent a lot of time on it. You don't hate the color of-"

"Blake." I say, walking over to him.

"Yes?"

"I like you too." I say before I have a chance to chicken out. "A lot."

He's at a loss for words and his mouth opens and closes like a fish. "You do?"

"I have for forever now."

"You have?"

"Uh, yeah." I say sheepishly. "I thought you knew."

"Of course I didn't know!" He yells almost too loudly, causing me to jump. "If I had known I would have asked you out a long time ago!"

"Well, you know now." I smile shyly, looking up at him through my fringe.

He grins and takes my hands in his. "Robbie, will you go out with me? Tomorrow? For breakfast?"

"Why breakfast?" I ask confusedly.

"Because I want our first date to be as soon as possible. I've waited three years." He admits. "And that's whatI always imagined. A coffee date."

I look at the painting again and giggle. "Oh, duh. Of course I'll go out with you."

A grin takes over his face and he crushes me in a hug. I don't mind, I hug him back tightly. When he pulls away I stop him and lean up on my toes before I loose my nerve. I've waited for too long to kiss him and I'll be damned if I miss my first chance.

Blake's surprised at first but it doesn't take long for him to kiss me back. It's slow and deliberate and perfect. He tastes like chocolate and vanilla all at once and it overwhelms my senses in the best possible way. If it weren't for my need for air I'd keep kissing him, but I have to pull away. 

He leans his forehead against mine and laughs. "I've waited so long for that."

I laugh too. "I haven't?"

"You should have told me."

"I'm not the only one who kept it a secret." I poke his side, smiling.

"I swear I'll never keep a secret from you again." He breathes.

"Me too." I agree. "Do you- maybe wanna watch a movie? The Notebook is on Hallmark." 

"I've been waiting weeks for you to ask that question." Blake grins.

I take his hand and lead him to the couch. We settle in, me cuddling against him and him wrapping both arms around me tightly. 

Despite the fact that this is possibly my favorite movie ever, I can't seem to pay attention to it. My eyes constantly wander over to the painting and my tummy erupts with butterflies.

I can't believe this happened. I can't believe that the artist actually likes me, the bookworm. He could lure in anyone he wanted with his charm and heart and pure talent and he chose me. I'm so incredibly lucky for that.

I can't believe I thought he forgot me. Now I know he never could.