[𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐏 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

gleaming on my face. I cast my eyes down to my sleeping angel whose legs were tangled with mine.

Paris was completely naked, we both were. The sheets covered Paris's lower body and Paris covered my lower body. She slept on her stomach.

Last night was thoroughly sensational. It was the best Valentine's Day gift I could ever receive. We'd said I love you last night together. I couldn't be any happier than I already was.

Paris fluttered her eyes open and winced at the sunlight that attacked her face.

"Morning," I murmured.

"Hi," she said gently, resting her chin on my chest. "I want to do that again."

"Do what again?" I teased.

"You know what."

"Right now."

"Well, not right now right now. But, soon."

"Okay, then we will," I promised. "Do you want to go in the shower before me?"

"That's okay, you can go first.

I helped Paris off of me since she claimed that her legs were sore because of me I assumed it had something to do with the way she slept.

After my shower, I found Paris in the same place I left her except she had a shirt on.

"So, do you just randomly keep condoms on you at all times?" I asked.

"No, before my parents sent us off, my mom bought some and told me to pack them. Her reason was that 'anything can happen.' "

"Are you going to tell her you used one?"

"Hell no, I don't need her knowing I was sexually active on this trip. The only way I'll let her know is by coming home with a baby."

I chuckled at that and began moisturizing my arms.

"I just realized, I never gave you your gift," Paris acknowledged. She got up out of the bed and went into her duffle bag.

Then she got up and handed me two tickets. They were tickets to go see the Chicago Bulls play the Warriors, court-side seats.

Elated, I swept Paris up and spun her around.

"Thank you," I mumbled in her neck and began kissing down her neck.

"You're welcome," she giggled, something I never heard before. Obviously I'd heard her laugh and the occasional chuckle, but a giggle was something different.

I set Paris down back on her feet and kissed her lips.

"You know you said you loved me last night," she mumbled in my mouth.

"I recall. You said it, too. Remember?"

"I do," she breathed. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Paris and I spent the day at home watching DVD movies on the flat screen in the den downstairs. We watched Juice, The Spongebob SquarePants Movie, Good Burger, Matilda, and then, The Princess and the Frog.

"Tiana is such a bad bitch. The only other Disney princesses that are on her level are Mulan, and Pocahontas, we're going to ignore the fact that her love interest is a colonizer, though. The one with red hair, I forget her name . . ." Paris snapped her fingers repeatedly.

"Ariel?" I checked, she was the only redhead princess I was familiar with.

"No, Nah-uh, definitely not her. The one who likes archery, and her mom got turned into a bear."

I shrugged, not knowing.

"Whatever, I'll figure it out later. Anyways, Jasmine and Rapunzel are the last ones."

"Who's your least favorite?"

"Belle, because she fell in love with her kidnapper." Paris leaned her head back on my shoulder. "She has toxic shock syndrome."

"You mean Stockholm syndrome."

"Exactly what I said."

"Sure you did."

☽☽☽

"It's on."

"Hi, I'm Paris Haven, and you're watching 'Cooking With Paris.' "

Paris and I decided to make a home video. We'd made one of these on Thanksgiving when her family was over, and another on Halloween. The one we made on Halloween was filled with us arguing, though since we weren't close at the time, plus, she kept following me around with the camera.

"What are you going to be making?" I inquired.

"I'm glad you asked, London. Today, we're going to be making homemade pizza. I have the ingredients already out. We have cheese, sauce, and everyone's favorite; pepperoni."

"Disgusting," I muttered. "Where's the dough?"

She looked around the table. "Ahh shit! Why didn't you remind me when we were at the store?"

"You said you didn't need my help."

Paris sighed and looked back at the camera. "We're going to take a little trip to the grocery store because my cameraman decided to set me up and not tell me about the most important ingredient. But it's fine because I love him."

While I drove us back to the grocery store, Paris got a hold of the camera.

"So this is my cameraman," she said, sticking the camera mad close to the side of my face. "Say hi."

"Hello."

"That was a dry-ass greeting. Any-who, though." She turned the camera away from my face onto her. "Yeah, he's also my boyfriend. I know, it's a rare thing to see two hot people together."

I chuckled. "Okay, give me the camera."