The Romeo and Juliet's Billion Worth Marriage

ELLE

It wasn't a usual occurrence that I find myself lying on top of someone else's chest - much more when it was the devil himself, my husband.

Surprised, I hide my face in his chest, overwhelmed by his heavenly scent. I breathe in and sigh, snuggling closer to him. The morning was a pretty shade of gold and pale blue. The sun was about to wake the people up, peeking through the drawn curtains, the breeze lightly entering from the open window. I shivered, snuggling closer to him, making me bite down a giggle as his chest hair tickled me. My eyes widen as I realize that he is naked beneath me.

Does it mean that something happened last night?

I quickly checked beneath the blankets and sighed in relief when he was wearing some boxer shorts, his happy little friend camping inside, my cheeks flushing. I averted my gaze and stared around the room as the sun illuminated our wedding picture. I looked so happy that day because even if it was an arranged marriage, I married the man I had always wanted for a long time.

We used to attend the same high school in the past. Gabriel is the perfect example of a bad boy; with his cronies and obnoxious ways, he was feared as he was famous. His family status has helped him get what he wants. Even when he always gets in fights, he always manages to be one of the honors while I score the top. Girls worshipped him as he passed through the halls, making me hate him more. He hated me, too, because I was always his competition, and he made my life hell by bullying me and playing pranks on me.

It is because of this that I have fallen for him.

When he played a prank on me in tenth grade when we had a camp back at school, Gabriel and his cronies tried to trap me in a broom cupboard. Sadly, his cronies are so dumb that they have managed to trap both of us. That was the only time I saw him afraid of tightly enclosed spaces. Instead of getting annoyed at him, I comforted him and tried to soothe his trauma. The night was spent with words that had never been spoken between the two of us as the relentless rain battered the windows, occasional lightning shining from the slips on the door. I have never thought of Gabriel to be a coward; it is my first time seeing him tremble like a small child.

We were later found asleep, snuggled close to each other. He was the first to wake up. He roughly pushes me against the side of the cupboard, making me hit my head. Even if he hurt me, I will never forget the way he looks at me, so full of shame and guilt. No matter how much I tried to deny it, I have been caught in the trap.

All those years, I have managed to hide it from him, refusing to get in his inner circles and keeping to my own as we finished college, not until my father called me back to New York and arranged for me to marry him. I was aghast, for I could not believe how fate had played me.

Now, as I lay next to him, listening to his quiet breathing, I believe I am lucky enough to be his wife for a year. I turn my head so I can stare back at him, too surprised to react. I held my breath as I studied his face, his stubble lightly brushing my forehead as I tried to lean closer. He is really here, lying so peacefully. Does he even notice that I am on top of him?

He probably doesn't feel it because he hadn't pushed me off. I can feel my neck getting stiffer by the minute. I push myself up on my elbows and look down at him. My eyes were glued to his face; I was really struggling not to lean down and kiss him. I'm still finding it hard to believe that we slept together on the same bed for the second time and that nothing happened last night. I slowly lean back on my pillow, letting out a sigh.

Not having the level of self-control I wish I had, I took another peek again and observed him. His hair is tousled, and his lips open slightly for him to breathe. He was so peaceful. He looks so young and gentle as he lies beside me, unaware that I am practically salivating over his majestic appearance.

Why did God make him perfect?

This precious moment is enough for me to choke back a tear and smile. Even though he's cold and heartless most of the time, there is still a side of him that's warm. I believe if he tried hard enough, he is still capable of caring for someone.

The fact that he didn't leave this morning made me consider it a wonderful miracle. It was the first time that I was able to spend one waking moment he was here beside me, snoring softly as I looked at his face.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as my gaze fell back on his lips. I couldn't help it - I traced his brow, his defined cheek, that strong jaw, and a perky nose. I didn't even realize that his eyes were already open as I traced my way up to his forehead again, my fingers freezing on top of his brow. The sight of his opened eyes made me stare at him in surprise. I draw my hand back, my heart hammering inside my ribcage that it is a wonder how he is not hearing it.

I continue staring at him, thoughts running wild inside my head. Now I have to face the consequences of complementing the features of my own husband...

" I guess you're done playing with my face, Mrs. West." The simple address to me made me almost jump out of there and run. What had this man eaten last night that made him this, this sweet? And sarcastic.

Yep, sarcastic. The latter is better.

I tilt my head to the side, biting my tongue to avoid my mind from giving off any smart remark. I don't want to ruin his mood, most specifically when he is this playful. I have experienced worse mornings in the past because of how talkative I am. Living with Gabe has taught me to be silent, speaking only when acknowledged.

Gabriel just gave me a smirk before leaning on my forehead, kissing me swiftly, making my heart go haywire as I tried not to faint.

Wait, am I still dreaming? Is this even real?

I was surprised when a velvet remark brought me back to my senses, followed by a pinch on my cheek, "No, love. You aren't dreaming. And, just like you stated, this is very much real." He gave me another pinch to my already red cheek, and I had to duck my head slightly to keep my tomato face hidden from him. I'm blushing so hard that I probably look like a cherry rather than a tomato.

He startled me when he wrapped his arms around me and made me sit up, his form towering over me. I feel so small next to him. He stared down at me, giving me a gentle smile, "Those cherry blushes are better than pale cheeks. I guess I have to pinch your face every waking moment so you'll stay like that every day..." That did it! I was about to pinch his cheek when he suddenly bolted, running off to the bathroom.

This is wrong.

I have never expected a playful Gabe, especially in the morning. I may have seen it a few months ago, but I never foresaw him returning this soon. I guess I would have to thank Frances for that chocolate cake he'd given me. I'm sure he'd thrown whatever potion he had from his cupboard and made it into a cake. I guess Frances knows that Gabe loves chocolates and wants to relieve us of some stress by giving them to Gabe.

I straighten up, fixing my hair with my fingers, contemplating my choices. Should I go inside the bathroom to brush my hair and witness what Gabe was doing?

Great! I'm turning into a pervert now. How can I even think about that?

My mind still can't recover from the happened the other night. My body was actually wishing for some love from Gabe again, but I won't push it. I do not want to spoil this little playful moment between us. If I would have to deal with this playful Gabe longer than usual...then so be it. I would like this version much more than that monster who usually possesses my prince.

I raked my hands through my hair and thought about making breakfast. This is one of the best mornings I'd have to save down on my memory. Even though these things won't last forever, I might as well enjoy this magical moment while it lasts. I hastily went out of the room and skipped down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. I prepared the egg, cracked them, and stirred them in the bowl. I add some milk to it before I switch the stove. I put the pan over the fire, and I pour some oil on it. I waited for quite some time, pouring the mixture down and sniffing.

It was delicious....and glorious!

Grabbing some of the loaves on top of the fridge, I pulled four pieces and flattened them in the middle. I poured the last of the egg mixture on it before popping them inside the toaster. Having done with the loaves, I brewed some coffee. While waiting for both to finish, I get back to the egg by mixing them, having a scrambled one instead of the usual omelet.

I grab a bowl and empty the contents of the pan into it. The toaster let out some 'ping' as I grab two plates, setting them on the table with two loaves on each. After placing the food on the table, I snatched two cups and poured the coffee into them, almost slipping into another dimension as I smelled it. Now, this is what I call perfect. All I need to do now is fetch-

"Am I missing something?"

Nah. Forget it. I guess I won't need to fetch him after all.