POV: Ava Ren
I was about to cross the street outside campus when I saw that car.
The matte black, sleek, unnecessarily powerful car that only one man in my universe drove.
My eyes lit up like a child spotting candy. "ALEX?!"
I blinked. Squinted. Almost tripped again because of course I did.
He stepped out in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, watch glinting, the breeze catching his stupidly perfect hair just right. He looked like a walking magazine cover. No—like heartbreak in a three-piece suit. Only casually dressed today.
"Get in," he said, eyes unreadable.
Cue brain explosion.
"ALEX REN," I practically screamed, running toward him, bag swinging. "What are you doing here?! You came to pick me up? I didn't know you were coming—OH MY GOSH—I look like a mess—do I look like a mess?—Is my hair—wait, wait, don't look yet!"
He opened the door without a word, and I launched myself into the passenger seat, talking the entire time. "I was gonna get bubble tea, but YOU'RE here, and honestly, this is ten thousand times better, and—wait—why are you smiling like that?"
He smirked. "You talk too much."
I beamed. "Only because I'm excited! And also I love you. But that's beside the point."
Silence.
Wait. Oops.
Anyway.
We drove in comfortable chaos—me rambling about my day, the group project I carried on my back like a lonely lawyer mule, how I slipped on the stairs again (twice), how someone said I look like an anime character (compliment accepted), and how—
"We're here," he said suddenly, pulling into a quiet rooftop restaurant.
My jaw dropped. "What—what is this? A date? Are we on a DATE? Did you plan a lunch date, Alex Ren? Oh my god, wait, are you okay? Blink twice if you're being blackmailed."
He ignored me and got out.
I was bouncing behind him like a puppy on sugar as we walked in, sat down, ordered. I tried to calm down. I really did.
Until he leaned forward, looked at me—really looked at me—and said:
"You probably already know this. But I thought… I should say it. At least once."
I blinked. My heart hiccupped.
He looked serious. And soft. And very, very real.
"I love you, Ava Ren. Really."
The world paused.
Time paused.
My brain? Obliterated.
Then I exploded.
I made a squeaky, gasping, high-pitched sound that probably shattered a few wine glasses.
"YOU LOVE ME?!" I shouted, jumping up.
And before he could respond, I launched myself across the table, ran around it, practically tackled him in his chair.
"I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT!"
"Ava—wait—"
I peppered his face with kisses—cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, neck—each one leaving a glossy, glittery pink mark.
"I LOVE YOU TOO! OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU!"
"Breathe," he muttered, hands coming to rest on my waist.
"I CAN'T!"
He chuckled. Chuckled. Mr. Cold CEO was LAUGHING while I was collapsing from joy.
"You're ruining my face," he said, wiping at the gloss stains.
"Excuse you, I'm decorating it. This is love, Alex. This is art."
He stared at me like I was both insane and everything he'd ever wanted. His eyes crinkled slightly.
And then—he kissed me.
Soft. Slow. Sure.
I melted into him like warm butter on pancakes.
"You're ridiculous," he murmured against my lips.
"And you love me."
He groaned, resting his forehead against mine. "Yeah. I really do."
I beamed. "Say it again."
"No."
"Say it again or I'll cry."
"Ava—"
I pouted dramatically. "Fine. Then I'm kissing you again until you do."
His smirk returned. "That's not exactly a threat."
And that was it. That was the moment I knew—no matter how clumsy or loud or dramatic I was…
Alex Ren was mine.
And he loved me back.
---
POV: Alex Ren
I didn't plan to pick her up.
It was a last-minute decision. I'd wrapped up a board meeting, sat in the backseat of the car, and somehow told the driver to head to her university.
And now, here I was, leaning against the car, getting stared at like I'd stepped out of a movie.
People whisper. Always do. Especially when I'm near her.
But she didn't notice any of them. Of course she didn't.
The moment she saw me, her entire face lit up like it was Christmas morning and I was the tree, the presents, and the star on top.
"ALEX?!" she yelled across the street.
I braced myself.
She ran.
And tripped.
Of course she did.
She flailed with the grace of a newborn deer, barely managing to catch herself. Her bag swung wildly. Hair flying. Lips pink. Chaos in motion.
God, I loved her.
She crashed into me with her usual speed, breathless. "OH MY GOD, YOU CAME TO PICK ME UP? I—wait, do I look okay? Don't look yet—okay, now you can look—but ALEX REN! You're here? Like actually here?! What happened? Did you hit your head? Are you okay? Blink if you're under duress—"
"Ava." I opened the door for her.
She clambered in, still talking. I tuned out half of it, but smiled to myself at the rest. There was something oddly soothing about her voice. It filled space. Made everything warmer.
She didn't stop talking until halfway through lunch.
I'd taken her to a rooftop restaurant—nothing extravagant by my standards, but the view was nice. She looked like she was going to cry from joy just seeing the table.
And then she asked, "Is this a DATE?!"
I didn't answer.
Not yet.
Because I was watching her, really watching her. She was still wearing her university blazer. Her lips sparkled with gloss. Her hair was longer now—thick, black, shiny, curling slightly at the ends. She looked like she had sunlight stitched into her skin.
"I love you, Ava Ren," I said quietly. "Really."
She froze.
And then detonated.
She shrieked, launched herself out of her chair, ran around the table like a puppy on fire, and practically jumped into my lap.
Her arms went around my neck. Her lips attacked my face—rapid-fire kisses on my cheeks, nose, forehead, temples—leaving sticky lip gloss and a sugar rush in their wake.
"I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU LOVED ME!"
"I never said I didn't."
"YOU NEVER SAID YOU DID!"
I didn't stop her. Couldn't. Wouldn't. Her weight settled on me like a blanket, and her laughter filled my ears like a symphony.
I reached up, held her waist, pulled her a little closer. "You're getting gloss all over me."
"Shhh," she whispered. "Let me express my feelings."
"You're insane."
"And you're in love with me."
Unfortunately, true.
She sat back a little, eyes wide and sparkly. "Say it again."
"No."
"Say it again or I'll start crying. Like really dramatically."
I smirked. "You'd do that anyway."
She pouted. "You're ruining the moment."
I leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow.
She froze for half a second before melting completely, arms tightening around my neck, heart pounding like a drum against my chest.
When we finally pulled apart, she whispered breathlessly, "You love me."
"I do."
She grinned. "Say it again."
"No."
She huffed. "Then I'm making you spaghetti and writing 'I love you' in ketchup tonight."
God help me.
I was hers. Always had been.
And I didn't mind one bit.