Because You Look So Cute Today
Written by xInSaNexBlOoDyxPrInCeSs
If appearances matter to him, then don't go out with him.
Because it's not your heart he's after.
I look in the mirror, staring at my reflection almost angrily. I wear plenty of makeup—foundation, eye shadow, lip-gloss, and blush—but it looks clumsy and makes me look pale instead of beautiful. My black, black hair seems stringy today instead of full and graceful, and even my eyes have trash bags under them.
I look down at the innocent carpet for a moment before beginning to stomp on it. I sigh and sit back down on my bed, hugging my pillow to my chest.
It's the first day he's going to see me since…a year. A year. He went without me to Singapore for his job. 'It's just for a year,' I remember him saying. I remember him promising to be faithful and love me.
He kept the promise.
I kept the promise, too.
But…what if he doesn't love me anymore when I see him? I'm driving to the train station (he's going to take a train after the plane) to pick him up. What if he doesn't see the beautiful girl he remembered and turns right back?
I know these thoughts are foolish but I can't help thinking them…even though he is the sweetest man you will ever find and would never do any of these things.
The infuriating part is, I had my whole outfit ultimately planned out and laid it on my chair before going to bed last night. But…
The outfit was a spring dress, light, and light pink—off the shoulders with a neckline that scooped a tiny bit but came right back up. The skirt was three layers but ended right above my knees.
But…
It rained this morning.
There is absolutely no way I'm going to wear that dress this morning.
I scream. I'll be late if I don't find what I'm going to wear! I jump into my closet and pull out shirts, skirts, pants, and dresses—none of them go together! This is horrible! He's going to leave!
I glance at the wall clock. It's 10:30. Shit! He's supposed to arrive at 10:30!
All right, Kayla. Just take the first three things you grab.
I grab.
The things I grab are: a red halter top with just the company slogan on the front and blue jeans, plus a black jacket. I roll my eyes. Great. I just happened to grab the three things that completely don't match. What luck.
I wonder if I have time to change…the plaid skirt goes well with the top…I glance at the clock. Nope.
I rush on out of the flat and jump into my BMW.
"Kayla!"
Oh God. I see him. Standing there in front of the subway…I close my eyes. Calm, girl…
But he looks so goddamn…nice. Even in a business suit and tie, his hair's the nice shade of black that I remember, and his eyes…his eyes are so brilliant, a storm-grayish kind of color…boy…he's exactly as I remember.
What if I'm not good enough for him? Shit! I forgot to fix my stupid makeup…I washed it all out before I left…great…now I look ugly.
"Kayla," he sighs and kisses the top of my head (that's how tall he is). He drapes his arm around my shoulders. I love that touch…that caress…
"Yeah?" I look up, my brown eyes pouring into his gray.
"There is something I wanted to do with you very badly for a year," he says.
I'm hoping it isn't something TOO inappropriate. "Yeah?" My voice is soft.
He grabs me and kisses me. The kiss is so long, and thorough…I smile halfway through the kiss and open my eyes. He really IS everything I remember. Even the good kisser part…was there a guy as perfect as this?
"There," He sets me on the ground. "Now…" He glances at his watch. "You're late."
I gulp. To someone as punctual as him, I must be an accident or freak of nature or something. "Only five minutes."
"Make that ten minutes. But…" His look softens. "Because you look so cute today, I'll forgive you."
"Huh?" I look up.
"You look very cute, Kayla," He kisses the top of my head. "Now let's go and grab a coffee."
"B-but…"
"No buts. This time, you're doing the talking," he says and he grabs me by the shoulders and hustles me off to the nearest Starbucks™.
I smile to myself as I walk by the man I love. Maybe they do match after all.
THE END
Author Note: Sometimes girls just don't realize that a guy worth having—a guy worth loving, one that deserves your love—won't care about what you're wearing when you see him (well unless if his parents are seeing you for the first time ever and you're, like, wearing a HEFTY bag or something). It's what's inside that matters. I know everyone hears that and they're like, yeah, whatever spare me the sappy stuff—but it's true.