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It was sort of thrilling, in its own special way, all things considered. Sneaking off with Diego to do a multitude of things— chat about cases, brew different coffee blends, just exist in each-other’s presence outside of the courtroom. It was sweet. It was refreshing.
Mia swore that Diego didn’t like sweet things.
Today, they were hiding away in one of the many gardens lining the area. Diego had gently tucked a flower into Mia’s hair, a hand previously cupping her cheek and mentioning, “how gorgeous she looked, with or without a blossoming flower so close to those bright eyes.”
Always the poet, this man was.
Now, though, in silence, Mia’s cheek was pressed against Diego’s shoulder, counting the blades of grass surrounding them. Her legs were crossed over each-other, shoes clicking against each other as she shifted her feet around.
“Mia,” Diego murmurs, finally lifting the silence, “You’re warmer than usual today. What’s different?”
Something in the air, she nearly says, instead settling for, “I’m not sure. What do you think?”
“Maybe because you’re so much closer.”
Mia feels her cheeks heat up as Armando tilts his face just the slightest bit downward, eyes connecting with hers. She’s sure she’s redder than before— she prays, silently, that he doesn’t notice.
Of course, he does.
“A little red,” teases the taller, wrapping an arm around her waist, “Aren’t we, Miss Fey?”
“Oh, Stop it,” Mia protests, leaning into his arm, “You tease.. you’re not slick, Mister Armando.”
Diego rolls his eyes, a snicker falling from smiling lips. He tugs Mia even closer, hands linking together as her chin rests atop his chest, “I never claimed to be. Just figured I would ask.”
And god, Mia can’t deny the racing of her heart. The feeling in her chest that feels like she’s flying because of the closeness— their proximity is so near.
“Sweet talker.”
“I don’t do sweets.”
“I can’t tell.”
Diego falls silent, merely observing Mia’s facial expressions before him. She notices the way his eyes seem to light up whenever she lays her cheek against him. Notices how his gaze softens whenever she laughs, or whenever she says something particularly awkward. How his breathing follows a similar pattern, quieting whenever she presses a finger against his cheek.
“Your skin is really soft.”
“Is it? I started trying out the skincare routine you sent me.”
“Seriously?!”
Mia’s eyes sparkled. She hadn’t expected him to listen to her whenever it came to something like that. She’d assumed he had forgotten about the conversation altogether— clearly, he hadn’t. Perhaps he cherished their conversations just as much as she did.
“You get so excited over the smallest things,” Diego teases, lifting a hand from her waist to tap her nose. Mia rolled her eyes.
“Well, forgive me for being so easily pleased—”
Diego pressed his finger against her lips, shaking his head, “Wasn’t insulting you. Quite the opposite, actually— it’s cute.”
..Damn him.
“You’re a precious woman, Miss Fey.”
That alone should have been her sign to prepare herself for the inevitable— Diego’s relentless flirtation, paired with his very touchy demeanor, was a killer every time. Mia wasn’t sure how she was still alive.
His thumb stayed in place at her lips, pointer finger cupping her chin— she swore he inches closer, himself.
“If I’m honest,” he whispers, “I wouldn’t mind it being just us for the rest of my miserable life. Never expected someone as darling and dear as you to get so close to me— though, here we are..”
Mia lowered her gaze to catch his eyes, every ounce of her being focused on maintaining eye contact. It was so difficult. She was certain he knew. She could see it in the look in his eyes.
For once, though, the smile he held wasn’t teasing or mocking— no, it was a genuine smile. Pure and glorious and so beautiful, might she add, that she felt she may go blind by looking at him.
“You’re a fantastic lawyer— not to mention a wonderful woman, in general. How is it that anyone can be so perfect? Never thought it was possible until I met you. Until I knew you.”
He isn’t even teasing her. He was praising her. Borderline worshiping her like she was some sort of saint. Mia Fey was far from that—
“And you always try to combat my affections. Why is that? Can’t you let me in, Miss Fey? I promise not to hurt you,” he murmurs, drawing her forehead forward to press against his, “I’d die before I could do something like that.”
Close. Mia is so dangerously close to Diego Armando. So close that it’s terrifying. Can he hear her thudding heart? Can he hear her racing thoughts? Can he feel the way her hands shake against him, how her face feels like it’s been set aflame?
Diego Armando has completely enraptured her.
Whether he knows or not, she’s unsure. But she doesn’t care.
“Diego?”
“What is it, Mia?”
“Do you think we talk to each other like this.. in every life we live together? Do you think we hold each other like this?”
Diego laughs, a sweet sound, “I hope we do. I really do. Never believed in any of that.. other life stuff, but.. for you, I’m willing to entertain the idea. Willing to hope for it.”
“Because, really, I don’t want this to end. Not now. Not late,; whenever we grow old together and die by each other’s side,” he continues, linking their fingers together, “No, I want to remain by your side forever. I want you in my arms for eternity and whatever lies beyond it.”
Mia smiles, pulling her face back to get a clearer view of the expression Diego holds—
And she’s completely thrown off guard by the sight of a man with quivering lips and desperation in his eyes. Like he’s holding a dying woman, like his arms are wrapped around the ghost of someone he loves.
Love.
Does Diego love her?
Mia hopes so.
“Don’t look at me,” Diego chokes, “I can hardly stand the thought of you seeing me unraveled and bare.”
Mia respects his wish, turning her eyes downward. She watches their hands— the way that Diego’s fingers intertwine with hers, the way his thumbs rub circles around each of her hands. It’s a small gesture— but so, so sweet.
Before she knows it, she’s drawing his hands closer to her face, lips pressing gentle kisses against his knuckles, against each individual finger, against every inch of the skin of his hands with such delicacy— as if he were made of glass or porcelain.
Diego is quick to cup her chin in his hands, pulling her back to face him, “Too sweet. When did you get to be so sweet?”
“It’s so difficult to be composed around you, Mia— you see it, don’t you? It’s like my walls come crashing down whenever you’re near.”
She’d never understand why.
For a while, the two sit there, comfortable in the silence, until finally, Mia pushes closer.
Diego raises his brows, as if questioning her motive— and Mia makes it quite clear with a wrap of her arms behind his neck.
She doesn’t realize she’s kissing Diego until she’s a moment or two into it— and it’s just as perfect as she’d imagined. Even in moments like this, he’s gentle. Kind. Mia isn’t surprised— she’s pleased.
A hand tangles in her hair, and Mia focuses on actually returning his gestures. She adjusts her hands to take his face, dipping his lips just that bit deeper into hers, humming proudly as he seems to freeze upon the revelation.
One hand makes itself a home on her hip, holding her carefully against Diego. The other seems less structured in its path, varying between combing through her hair and pressing against her cheek.
Eventually, she’s forced to come up to the surface for air.
Diego, on the other hand, is hardly breathless.
“Mia,” he whispers, pressing their foreheads together once more, “Sweet, sweet Mia.”
His thumb resumes that habitual pattern of rubbing circles into her skin— now, her waist.
“You taste like heaven— so sweet.”
“I thought you didn’t like sweet things?”
“You aren’t a thing,” Diego refutes, “You’re my precious Mia. Silly girl.”
Mia laughs. She isn’t sure what else she could have done— there’s not much left to do.
He’s silent again, soaking up her presence as he clings to her. Mia realizes she’s yet to tell him.
“I love you.”
Diego freezes.
“Pardon?”
“I said I love you. Is that so hard to believe?”
Diego shakes his head.
“No, not at all, I just— ah, Mia..”
He’s wrapping his arms around her torso, burying his nose into her shoulder from behind, words muffled as he replies, “I love you, too.”
“Promise me we’ll do this again. Sooner or later— this is nice.”
Mia looks over at Diego, pressing her lips against his cheek—
“But of course. Any time with you is well spent.”