Romans & histoires She Probably Gives You Butterflies

She seemed ready to pounce on the prey in front of her. "What do you know then?" She dared with one of her eyebrows arched in a condensing stare. "Let me guess, wannabe princess searching for her prince charming to come sweep her off her feet to a whole new world of glitters and roses. You're thinking if I can kiss that cotton candy lips of his and make my dreams come true maybe the world will be a little brighter. Oh Romeo, I want to be your Juliet!" I ended with the click of the tongue. "Am I close? You need to touch some grass."

She asks, chinning her face up and moving her hand to ruffle his fluffy hair. She smiled as childishly as she could before nuzzling her face closer to his neck as if a five-year old getting shy after giving her teacher the wisest answer. Her hand went back to its original place, and her warm breath coating his neck's skin. His heartbeat was rushing faster, even though he remained silent and let his thoughts take over his mind. He was yet able to feel those weird sensations which they call butterflies. He realized butterflies are real, yes they are!

I felt sparks, literally. ‘You had a little something’ he said showing me his thumb. ‘Can’t take me anywhere’ I said chuckling. ‘It’s alright you looked kinda cute’. I felt something in my belly when he said that. Is that what people mean when they say they felt butterflies? I feel like I shouldn’t get to close to him but at the same time I want to. I cleared my throat. ‘So, now is your turn to tell me about you’. I said ‘Not yet’. He said. ‘We’re not done with you first’.

I pouted while looking at her annoyed expression. She threw the ball and it hit me on my forehead. "What's your problem?" "Nothing," She smiled and tried to be cute. Well, she is cute. "Come on, you said you're going to teach me how to drive," She smirked. "Yeah, of course-" "Drive me crazy," She winked at me and roared in laughter while I was trying to process what he just said. I don't understand why I can feel the butterflies dancing in my stomach.

DON’T TOUCH ME! Every single word she heard him say caressed her skin lightly, making Haven shiver with a pleasure she couldn’t quite understand. Feeling his warm breath on her bare neck, Haven could feel the butterflies flying around in her belly while her mind tried to process what was happening right now. She knew the all too well feeling of butterflies flying in the belly and it was not something Haven looked forward to — again. ‘ No— no — no , this shouldn’t be happening. This shouldn’t be happening at all.’ Haven kept repeating in her mind.

I can do everything for her. “ Of course not!” she exclaims and that makes me sighed out of relief. Thank god that she thinks that way. “ You, what kind of life do you want?” She looked at me and then she looked back at the ceiling. Clearly thinking and balancing things in her mind. “ You.” “ Huh?” her answers confused me. “ A life with you.” A loud thump of my heart, blood rushing and nerve wrecking. When did I felt this feeling of butterflies in my stomach? With her. It’s always with her and her words alone.

“More than you could imagine, butterfly.” “Then, beg. Beg and I shall give it to you.”

B͟l͟a͟k͟e͟ I can’t take my eyes off of her. She’s absolutely magnetic, more so than anyone else I’ve ever known. She’s somehow attracted an entire flock of butterflies. Several have landed in her hair, velvet wings opening and closing in tandem. Others are resting on her arms and she’s got one resting in her hands, wings fluttering like lashes. The smile on her face is radiant. She looks so happy as she studies the tiny miracle in her hands. Her eyes are filled with wonder at the creature who’s decided to place all its trust in her ability to keep it safe.

When we were tired, we stopped to catch our breaths. “I'm glad I told you. I was having stomach aches ever since I found out. Like something was crawling inside my tummy and making me feel weak and lightheaded,” she confessed, her forehead crinkled out of worry. “Plus my heart keeps speeding up and my hands are all clammy.” “You really don't know what that feeling is, do you?” “Should I know? Am I dying?” She asked, more worried than before. I wrapped an arm over her shoulder and said, “No my friend, those are butterflies in your tummy. Most people get them when they find their one true soul mate.”

Her red hair was in a ponytail with some loose strands out and she a prominent dark purple lipstick. We sat side-by-side on a waiting chair in the recreational area of her workplace, where the blue sky and sunlight were visible. “These butterflies are so lucky. They get to fly, be free and live.” I muttered, referring to how fluttered their wings. “You sounded down. Are you overthinking again?” She asked. “Nope... I’m not overthinking.” I said, hoping she believed it. “Are you sure? Then what was that about the butterflies? And, what’s that?” she referred to the jute bag.