for Von, for not taking people's shit on ask and continuing to be an inspiration to me ❤️

"You need to relax."

Looking up from my Calculus textbook, I smiled as Brady entered my room with a bouquet of light pink roses in his arms. He gently sat on the bed beside me, setting the flowers down and stroking my knee.

"Hey to you too." I murmured, planting a soft kiss on his cheek before Brady took out his phone and began to play soft music. "It's kind of late though, don't you think? And I've got a lot of homework."

"I know but I wanted to be spontaneous." Brady tells me, scooting along the bed until he's directly behind me, and when I feel his warm hands rest onto my shoulders I inhale sharply. "And you've been working so hard this week."

He's right. Next week is mid terms which means all work and no play for me in order to maintain my 4.0 GPA. I've been studying all night and morning, making private lessons with each teacher after school, and only spending time with friends if it involves reviewing for a class. That also meant taking a break from Brady and any dates he wanted to plan, and although I felt bad I know that it was all for the best. I need to do good on these tests to guarantee myself a future, and if Brady thinks that he can come between that than I guess he isn't suited to be my boyfriend. Thankfully, Brady has respectfully kept his distance.

But now I can tell that he misses me, not just by the pink roses and the soft music, but by the way that his hands are slowly and gently beginning to massage my shoulders. I set my pencil down, allowing my back go relax into his grip, just as his thumbs hit a spot in my blades that releases a moan from my lips. "There we go." Brady murmurs.

Brady continues to massage me, his hands digging into my skin and pressing away any stress that I have about my exams until my brain stops throbbing. When he's done with the massage, Brady picks up my hair from my shoulders and moves it to the left one before beginning to plant soft kisses on my right shoulder. The kisses are so tender that I can feel, and hear, the skin from his lips suckle my own, just as his exhales send goosebumps throughout my body. Brady trails kisses from the tip of my shoulder to the side of my neck and then the tender spot behind my ear, a spot that I didn't even know was sensitive to touch. But Brady surely does.

"God." I breath when I feel his tongue sneak a lick onto the spot.

"I knew you'd like that." He whispers seductively before stroking down my arms, his fingers tentacles of silk. "You have the silkiest skin." Brady tells me softly.

"Good lotion." I breath with a light chuckle.

"Nah, I think it's all you." Brady murmurs, planting another kiss on my shoulder, this one lingering for a bit longer than all of the others. "You're so beautiful, Leah, really." He suckles on the skin under my chin. "Really, everything about you is stunning—your skin, your body, your hair, everything."

A large and warm orb expands in my stomach, reaching through my body until it hits my heart and explodes. I turn back to face Brady before pressing my lips against his, instantly slipping my tongue through his lips. Brady moans, grabbing my waist and flipping me around so that I'm facing him straight on. I stretch my arms over his shoulders and lock my fingers behind his neck, pulling him closer to me in the process. My teeth gently dig into Brady's bottom lip which emits another deeper, make rugged moan before Brady presses me back onto my bed.

I push my books and papers onto the floor, and before I know it both of our shirts are there too. I'm lying on my back, gazing at Brady, who's lying on top of me, his hands clenching my wrists above my head in a way that's completely unlike him—assertive. In fact, this entire evening is completely unlike him. He's never been this affectionate before, us having only kissed a few times, and he's never surprised me like this. But to be honest, I like it. It reminds me of Ford but has a touch of Brady that Ford could never pull off.

Brady's soft lips begin to caress mine, leaving me breathless. He's so focused, so full of care and love that I can feel it vibrating through his bones. I inhale sharply as he moves down past my collarbone, to the tops of my breasts, before Brady exhales deeply and buries his face there.

"God, I love you." He murmurs, perhaps so that I can't hear.

But I do. "Huh?" I pant, picking his head up in my hands and directing his eyes towards mine. "What'd you just say?"

This isn't the first time that he's said that he loves me, but it's the first time that I've acknowledged it. "That I love you." Brady breathes. "And I meant it."

I pecked Brady's lips. "I love you too." I whispered, pecking him again, and then again. "I love you." Until Brady held my lips onto his in a continuous motion of kissing.

And then we were once again together, but this time in a mess of kisses and breathless moans. My clothes were off in a matter of minutes, and Brady followed, before we were lying on top of each other in a dazzlingly sweaty mess. I was running my fingers along Brady's chest when he spoke for the first time since "I love you."

"You meant it right?" He wonders, voice hoarse from our previous activities.

"Of course." I smile at him, kissing his bare chest.

"Good." He nods, running his fingers through my hair. "Because I really meant it." Brady inhales gently. "I think you might be ... the one."

How does one reply to something like that? A kiss? A hug? "Same"? I don't know, and I probably never will, as I stare up at Brady with my mouth hanging open like an idiot. "How do I respond?" I ask him, feeling my cheeks flame in embarrassment.

Brady simple smiles. "You don't."

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"I wonder what it's like up there." Ford wondered aloud, his fingers running through my ribbon of brown hair. "Where the clouds meet the sky."

I open my eyes from where they were previously shut, glancing up towards the sky. My head is resting on Ford's chest and he's laying on the picnic blanket that we threw down a couple of hours ago. The picnic basket lays empty of food and drinks, and for the past hour we've been laying together and relaxing, not even speaking.

"I bet it's free." I reply, crossing my bare legs at the ankles. I'm wearing a bright red baby doll dress with spaghetti straps, so I'm a little cold but I don't feel like moving, so I don't tell Ford. "Anything can happen. There's no boundaries, no limits."

Ford hums in agreement. "That's the scariest thing ever though. Nothing being impossible means that everything's possible, and not everything is good, you know? So you kinda have to weight the pros and cons."

I sit up from Ford chest, my hair falling along my shoulders, and look down at the boy I can thankfully call mine. "I like this side of you." I murmur, running my hand along his arms until our fingers lock. "Philosophical Ford."

Ford blushes, a rare show, before pulling me back down to his chest and planting a kiss on my forehead. "That's where we are, you know." He points up into the blue sky beyond. "Lost between possibility and chance. Forever."

"You think so?" I couldn't help but giggle giddily, turning my body so that I was looking at him.

"I know." He mused, pulling my waist upward until we were on the same level, and then he pressed his lips against mine until they molded, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy. "I love you." Ford breathed when we pulled apart. "More than you'll ever know."

"I love you." I had never meant three words so fully before. "More than I'll every know that you love me and more than you'll every know that I love you."

"Let's pretend like I understood that." Ford chuckled.

"Okay." I laughed back, shivering slightly when the wind picked up. This time Ford noticed, shaking off his flannel and wrapping me up in it. Before he lets me go, though, he leans in and tenderly begins to kiss me.

I don't let this one end so soon. Kissing him back lovingly, I lean my body into his, his hands cupping my cheeks and rubbing them with his thumbs, until our tongues collide and the fire inside of my tummy ignites. As much as I would like it to, the kiss doesn't lead to anything else. There's no suckling of lips or grinding of waists, no unnecessary love making. The kiss is simply that—a kiss, yet it's able to express everything that I could ever feel for Ford.

And I wouldn't have had it any other way.

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