Don't Be In Love

by Liana Cincotti

She thought I was in love with someone else?

There was rain in my shoes and rain in my pockets and rain coating my hair and skin, but I’d stand out here all night explaining what happened if it meant she’d understand.

“I don’t love her, I love you, and if you had stopped making up your mind before I had a second to finish explaining myself, you would’ve realized that this entire time I’ve been trying to give you the space you wanted. I’ve tried to get over you each time you told me you weren’t interested so I could hopefully salvage some shred of my dignity, but all I could think about was you. All I ever think about is you. You’re all I paint for God’s sake.”

“The problem was never that I loved her, because I didn’t. It was always that I loved you.”

I wanted her. I wanted her. I wanted her. I had never wanted someone so strongly before and it terrified me.

“You can’t just make me fall in love with you and take it all back,” I whispered. “Say something. Please.”

“Are you sure that you love me? Because if you take it back in a few months or a few years, I don’t know if I’ll survive it when being in love with you has already been this treacherous.” “Did you just say you were in love with me?” “Treacherously so, yes.”

“So tell me Dorian Blackwood, are you sure?” “I was sure the first night I walked you home,” I exhaled.

A smile finally kicked up on her face. At last, I let myself touch her, my hands goin...

“I adore you, Adelaide Adorno. I love absolutely everything about you.” She pulled her bottom lip betwee...

I groaned. “This may be hotter than the time you buttoned ...

“Kiss me,” she breathed. “Finally.” I leaned down and pulled her in...

The second her lips hit mine, all the tension in my...

I took note of it all as if I was rushing to collect evidence that’d wash away soon.

Two steps forward and she was moving with me, her back against the building, and out of the awning.

She giggled as the rain hit us, but she didn’t break away, only dug her finge...

I could do this for a lifetime. Hold her. Kiss her. Paint her. Li...

“Dorian,” she murmured. “Hm,” I mumbled ag...

My lips hovered between her brows. I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath as if I submerged from a lake.

I wanted more for her than myself.

“Just give it a try. If you’re unhappy after a month or two months or two years, then we’ll pivot. You lead and I’ll follow.”

“Did you tell Dorian?” Mia asked, stopping our hopping. ​“He texted me that he knew I’d get it. Now he’s in the process of writing down every art museum in Scotland for us to visit.”

Dorian’s blushful smile and wink in the second row made me beam. I’m proud of you, it said.

There was something beautiful about falling in love with the uncertainty of life.

“It’s beautiful here,” I hummed, closing my eyes. “It is. France looks good on you,” Dorian said, in the middle of undressing.

“Come on, love, just give your boyfriend a bite,” he teased, bracing the windowsill and leaning over me. His linen shirt was unbuttoned, falling open. I hated letting him win, but I gave in and let my eyes dip below his face, taking in the muscles and smooth skin of his chest.

“Something on your mind?” he asked in that tone. The tone where his voice lowered an octave, making all the muscles in my body feel like a deflating chocolate cake pulled straight from the oven. “Nothing at all,” I lied.

“Tu mens très mal, ma...

He leaned in closer, his lips hovering above mine. I could smell the mint on his breath from the ice cream we shared earlier. I wanted to be consumed by it. So I let my lips part and I—

“Dorian Blackwood let me attack you!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low before jumping on the bed again. “Fine.” He stopped abruptly, letting me bump into him, the sandwich already gone.

In one turn, he pulled me over his shoulder and threw my back onto the mattress, his fingers running up and down my torso, tickling me.

I tried swatting him away but then he’d pepper my ...

“Despite the fact that you wouldn’t share your sandwich with me, I want you to know that I do still love yo...

He let go but pressed one more solid kiss to my mouth.

I sat up and his eyes grazed my figure.

But he had that soft look on his face. The same look he had the night I told him I loved him. And the night of my birthday when he stood under my balcony.

I leaned in slowly and pressed my lips to his. A thousand kisses later and I still couldn’t shake the feeling of giddiness and need that he sparked in me. His hands found my jaw and I leaned in closer—if one could even get any closer than this. It felt like every touch and movement was another version of him saying I love you. His lips were soft and demanding.

I slowly pulled away, not wanting to miss the dazed look he always had after.