GOLDEN BLOOD

At exactly seven thirty in the evening, Paris stood before her vanity mirror, preparing for her date with Michael. Her heart was heavy with reluctance, but she had made promises and always kept them.

She applied a coat of deep red lipstick to her lips and ran a brush through her long, dark hair. Paris took a deep breath, ready to fulfill her commitment despite her reservations.

Her mind was consumed by one thought she had wanted: Alexander. The mere thought of him sent a jolt of electricity through her veins, and every fiber of her being screamed for her to reach him.

Paris carefully applied another mascara coat, trying to hide the tears that threatened to ruin her perfectly made-up face. But no amount of makeup could conceal the overwhelming happiness and love that filled her heart.

She couldn't believe that Alexander, her true love, had finally confessed his love for her. Tears continued to flow down her cheeks, but she didn't care about her appearance at this moment—all that mattered was the pure joy and love between them.

As she slipped into her crimson dress and stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way the dress hugged her curves, she couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and excitement wash over her. It wasn't just the vibrant color of the dress that made her cheeks flush.

Eight pm...

As the sun began to set, Michael's heart raced excitedly as he got ready for his date with Paris. He meticulously planned every detail, from making reservations at a cozy restaurant. After dinner, visit a local art studio, stroll hand in hand through the bustling streets of downtown, and indulge in creamy chocolate ice cream.

The setting sun cast a warm glow on their intertwined fingers, and the sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air around them. This night would be etched into his memory forever, and he hoped it would be just the beginning of their story together.

Michael stood outside her door with anticipation. He gently knocked on Paris's door. She opened it without a smile. Michael sensed something was off.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

Paris hesitated before nodding, then she shook her head. "Actually, I would be lying if I said yes," she admitted. "Michale, I love someone else."

Michael was taken aback. "But I thought you liked me."

"I do, as a friend," Paris clarified. "I can't be more than that. I know I’m a horrible person to do this to you, and I'm sorry to hurt you like this. But I promise to always be a good friend to you."

"A friend?" Michael repeated, still trying to process the news. "Did Mr. X finally confess his feelings to you?"

Paris nodded.

“I hate to do this to you. But I have to leave. If I don’t go now--"

“Then go.” He interrupted.

Now Paris was taken aback. “Are you not angry with me, Michael?”

“If you’ve found love elsewhere, how can we be happy together? So go... be with him.”

“You’re the kindest person, Michael. Thank you so much.” She embraced him, then closed the door and departed, leaving the boy with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

She had to get to Alexander, no matter the cost or obstacles in her way. Nothing else mattered at this moment but reaching his side.

Paris sped through the winding roads, her foot heavy on the gas pedal as she raced against time. The cotton candy sky was quickly being swallowed by darkness, and her heart pounded urgently to reach Alex.

But just as she saw his house in the distance, her car sputtered and came to a stop. She cursed under her breath as she frantically tried to restart the engine. Her hands gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, wishing she had wings to carry her to him in this moment of desperation.

The fading sunlight cast shadows on her face, highlighting the streaks of tears that streamed down her cheeks. She could almost feel Alex's warm embrace, but now it seemed cruelly out of reach.

Panic and despair erupted over her as she realized she may have failed. No, she couldn't fail. She wouldn't allow anyone or anything to stand in the way of her goal.

With determination fueling every step, she abandoned her car on the side of the road and kicked off her heels, sprinting towards the tall iron gates that stood between her and success. The ground beneath her feet pounded with each stride, the wind whipping past her face in a frenzy. Her heart raced, matching the frantic pace of her thoughts. Failure was not an option - she would make it through those gates no matter the obstacles in her path.

As Paris reached Alexander's bedroom, she was immediately enveloped in a breathtaking sight. The floor was completely covered with velvety red rose petals, their intoxicating scent filling the room.

Countless candles flickered and danced around the perimeter, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything. In the center of it all stood Alexander, his dark hair tousled and his eyes sparkling in the candlelight. A small smile played on his lips as he awaited her arrival.

“You’re late,” he said to her.

Paris's body trembled with joy, tears streaming down her face as she collapsed to her knees. The overwhelming flood of emotions threatened to swallow her whole, but Alex was there just before she hit the ground.

He scooped her up and held her tightly in his arms in a swift, fluid motion. She cried into his shoulder, her body clinging to him like a lifeline. As she slowly climbed up his strong frame, she felt like a broken puzzle piece finally finding its place in the world. A puddle of happiness and love, she melted into his embrace.

With a gentle touch, he brushed away her tears and ran his fingers through her hair. As their eyes met, he slowly leaned to kiss her lips, savoring the familiar taste he had missed so much. His heart swelled with love for this woman, his Paris.

Her dewy blue eyes glistened as she crumbled once again.

"My Angel," he whispered, adding a new endearment to the list.

She couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she closed her eyes; overwhelmed by his love, she took deep breaths between sobs.

Alexander pulled her closer, holding her tight in his embrace. "Only love me, Paris," he pleaded. "Only me."

His words were filled with passion and possessiveness, conveying the depth of his feelings for her.

As their lips pressed together, he deepened the kiss with a newfound intensity. The weight of past suffering seemed to melt away in this moment of shared passion and love.

Paris reveled in the feeling of his strong arms encircling her once again as if they were the only two people in the world. She felt weightless and liberated as if all her worries had disappeared into the ether.

As he gazed into her eyes, his words tumbling out in a rush, she felt her heart swell warmly.

"I love you, Paris," he said, each syllable filled with so much emotion it was like a symphony in her ears.

At that moment, she could have died happy, knowing she had heard those three powerful words from the person she loved most in the world. It was as if every star in the sky had aligned just for them, and she was floating on a cloud of pure joy and contentment.

Alexander may have slept with thousands of women, but never before had he spoken these words to anyone. Paris was the first woman to whom he had declared his love, baring his heart and soul to her without hesitation.

Paris's chest swelled with pride, and her heart burst with joy at receiving such heartfelt words from Alexander. At that moment, she felt like the most valuable person in the world.

~X~