Love at first sight? (Daya)
The minute you saw her for the first time you were doomed. The very second you saw those dimples showing every time she smiled you were well and truly screwed. As soon as her lips touched yours, you seeing fireworks and all, you were falling for her, and falling fast at that.
Weeks flew by in which you traded sweet kisses with her, had countless movie nights, cooked her dinner on more than one occasion. You seemed to be spending more time with her than anyone else. Your mom phoned you one night, wondering why you hadn't called her in a while (you were extremely close with your family and for you to not visit or at call them once a week was weird for you). You chatted for well over an hour (mostly you gushing about the new person in your life) and by the end, you just knew that, your mom knew you were falling in love with the woman you had spent the past sixty minutes talking about.
As your physical relationship with her grew more intense, make out sessions leaving you in desperate need of a cold shower, you wanted to find out more about her – no you wanted to know everything about her. Afraid of scaring her away you kept your questions, curiosity about her life a secret, only asking simple things like what her favourite book was.
One month later you slept with her.
The night you wanted her so badly, needed her, was one of the most passionate nights of your life. Soft caresses, lips kissing every inch of your body in a way that filled you with so much warmth and happiness, skilled fingers knowing exactly what spots drove you crazy, squirming in her arms kissing lazily as you came down from your high. Unlike your previous lovers who were worried about their needs, leaving the next morning with excuses you ended up not listening to, she was different.
Granted before her, you had never been with a woman before (you seriously didn't know why, because it was fucking brilliant). Sure you'd kissed another woman before but that was for work, only a small peck and as much as your fans seemed to think you were hooking up with a different blonde, you weren't, you were only ever best friends (Hemo was like your sister for god's sake!).
You fell asleep in her arms that night, exhausted (you had returned the favour, hoping that she felt butterflies in her stomach every time you touched her, as you felt when she touched you), satisfied and happier than you had been in a long time.
You were in love with her. You whispered those three words into the room, hoping to an extent that she heard you but not brave enough for you to tell her when you were one hundred percent sure she was awake.
"I love you, Demi."
She had heard you, because a week later she was dating some man. And you had your answer, you were in love with her but she wasn't in love with you.
Thoughts?