❝Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, I will never leave you nor forsake you.❞
— Hebrews 13:5

14 || things money just can't buy

time || late afternoon

We've been walking around the city, for the last hour trying to find something to do. I'm sweaty and lethargic. And I'll admit, I might've snapped at Brolin a couple times during our trip in the uber.

We've already wasted an hour meandering, and I hate that I've wasted an hour.

I stop walking.

"I suck," I mutter under my breath. It's true. Brolin must hate me right now cuz I'm being bad company, and acting so grumpy and miserable.

"Why say that?"

I stare at him. "Seriously?"

He glances at me for a second before busting out in laughter. I guess he realized his mistake there.

His laughter makes my lips curl into a smile.

"Okay, okay, okay," he says. "You have a point."

He then walks up close to me.

I must note: there's not a lot of people on the sidewalk right now and it just being Brolin and me is comforting.

A second ago I was feeling tired, and Brolin being this close to me—a small vicinity of space left between us—is the b12 to my system. I give him an inquiring look. "I've made us waste so much time. That's why I suck." See, I answered his question, though I know he doesn't care about that anymore.

The way he's looking at me sends a thousand trills through my anatomy. My heart's ready to burst from my chest.

He's wanting to kiss me.

Am I right?

Slowly he brings his arms up and cups my face with his warm hands. I'd be lying to you if I told you, I didn't want him to kiss me. This confirms to me that he must've liked that kiss I gave him—that short and sweet kiss in the street.

I close my eyes, ready for his lips to meet mine.

Kissing his lips is what I've always imagined his lips would feel like; warm, soft, plump, and a little moist from sweating. But it's all good.

This is way better than all the kisses I've received from any guy before. And not that I'm comparing him to all the other guys that I've ever kissed, cuz there's no need. He's incomparable.

I break away from him.

I didn't want to stop kissing him. Trust me, it took a lot of willpower for me to do that.

I look him in the eye and say, "Why did you do that?"

I need to know. Like any guy, did he just kiss me cuz he felt an attraction, or was it the kiss from earlier that made him do-it, and he saw it as invitation for a "no strings-attached relationship"? (though I don't believe in that) I've seen too many people get hurt by being in those kind of relationships.

I almost expect Brolin to shrug at my question. He doesn't. "Cuz I wanted to."

Cuz I wanted to...

I never heard that before.

"Me, too." I answer his question from earlier—the one he asked in the walk-in freezer, What was the kiss for {in the street}? I wanted to kiss him, too.

I then slowly wrap my arms around his neck, bringing my body close to his, hugging him.

And he hugs me back.

:: :: ::

There's no one in the theater except Brolin and I.

Hence the lack of bodies here, tells me no one can't watch a black-and-white film nowadays. That's no fun. This was my idea. I'm a goober for old Hollywood films, and you can assume TCM is on 24/7 at my house. I don't know, something about these old films forms a pleasant warmth inside me bringing out that little girl in me.

We're watching It Happened One Night starring Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable. We're at the scene where they  hitchhike—the iconic scene in which Colbert brings out her leg showing off a little of her pantyhose.

I'd forgotten that Havendust had a theater that showed old films every weekend. During the weekdays the theater shows old foreign films with subtitles.

During school, if Justice is in the mood, she'll be nice enough to call her Dad's driver Mr Earnest and we'll play hooky and head over to the theater. Most times Justice sleeps while I take in the beauty of the film; the cinematography, the picture, the music... everything. However, it's been months since I'd last came here.

Like I said, Gwen has pretty much taken over.

I grab a handful of popcorn from the bucket Brolin is holding in his hands, and drop the buttery morsels onto my lap. And that's when I glance back at Brolin for a mere second, and I see he's actually watching the film. The way the light of the screen illuminates against his face, is when I really see the beauty of Brolin. His long eyelashes, flawless skin, and those lips I wouldn't mind kissing again.

I turn my attention back to the film.

I then feel something nudge my arm.

It's Brolin.

He takes my hand, and he holds it before intertwining his fingers through mine.

:: :: ::

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