A Little Bit Married

Good Boy

"Are you feeling better?" Gray asked, his voice low.

Our car had been parked in front of the TV station headquarters where we were supposed to go for the interview for a little more than fifteen minutes, but I just couldn't bring myself to let go.

He wasn't rushing me despite us running late by a few minutes, but I knew I had to pick my big girl boots up and get away from him so we can go right back home to Kris.

I sighed and slowly pulled away, my eyes meeting his. His hands dropped from around me, and he quickly picked my hands up, his eyes full of concern and depth as he tried to see through me.

He gave a small sigh and cupped the edge of my cheeks, then ran his thumb underneath my eyes, wiping away the tears that still lingered.

"I... I might have stained your suit."

"It's no big deal," he said, kissing my forehead.

I let out a shaky breath, then smiled up at him. He kissed both my cheeks, then leaned away and held my hand again.

"Tell me when you are okay and we can go."

"We are going to miss the interview," I said, laughing. "We should go now."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "We are not missing anything. They gave us short notice anyway. They will reschedule. I need to make sure you are okay."

I smiled, appreciating his effort for me, butterflies fluttering around aggressively in my stomach. "I promise I am fine, Gray."

He nodded slowly. "Wait, then. I will come around."

He slowly let go of my hand, and I watched as he got out of the car and closed it behind him, then waved his driver off, who was probably trying to get around to me.

It made me laugh as he came around to my side and opened the door, a small smile lifting his lips.

"Here," he said, extending a hand to me.

I chuckled and took his hand, and slowly got out of the car. His grip on my hand tightened, and once I was stable on my feet, he wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me close.

So this is how it feels to be with someone who was absolutely proud of being with me. It felt rather reassuring, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Let's go," he said, even though he was leading the way.

I could feel all of my guard coming down with how protectively he was holding me. And I could freely tap into a part of my mind that was completely shut off from danger, and I could freely focus on the man next to me.

"Sir," someone greeted us at the door, and Gray nodded at his greeting. "I will show you to the interview section. I was directed to welcome you. I am the interviewer's assistant, John. We have some scripts for you, and your makeup will be retouched before we go on stage. Also, the interview will be live."

Gray simply nodded at everything, and I found my ears perked up now, a wave of nervousness running through me. What if I messed up? What if I said something wrong?

Before I knew it, I was sitting across from Gray in front of a large sectioned mirror, with a woman behind me who was retouching my face and doing my hair.

The script was in front of me, and I could hear the assistant talking to someone else, fixing the stage for us, and making sure everything would be perfect.

I turned to Gray. He had his eyes closed, and he was leaning back on his seat. His legs were crossed, and his hands rested on his thigh.

I bit down on my lips and turned back to the script, and read it again and again. The questions that would be asked, and everything. I let out an anxious sigh, just as I felt a hand snake up to mine.

I was so familiar with the touch of Gray's hand that I didn't even bother to check. His warmth was familiar, the lines in his palm clicking right into mine, and I closed my eyes as I tightened my hand around his.

"Anxious?" He asked, and I slowly nodded.

"I don't want to f**k it up."

He chuckled. "You won't f**k anything up."

I sighed. "I wish I believed in myself the way you believe in me."

"I can do the believing for two," he said, laughing. "Till you can take over your share of belief."

"What if I never do?"

"Well, till death do us part, yeah?"

I broke into a laugh and turned to him. In the meantime, when my eyes had been closed, his hair had been styled into a slightly messy ivy league cut, with a bot of hair falling over his right eye. His hair was extremely shiny and framed his face even better. It felt like looking at a brand new person, even though the husband I knew was already extra terrestial.

"What?" He asked, snapping me out of the reverie I unknowingly found myself in.

I blinked, shaking my head as I turned away and cleared my throat. "I... he did a good job."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, laughing a little, his eyes taking me in.

I sighed, closing my eyes briefly. Why did I feel weird to compliment him? He always said these things to me. Always did his best to tell me that I was beautiful.

I turned to him, my eyes taking him in. "You look like I would want you to wife me up if we weren't already married."

He froze for a few seconds before he broke into a sexy, deep laugh, his eyes thin and holding mine throughout.

His cheeks and ears reddened, and he clicked his tongue.

"You just gave me butterflies," he said, laughing at his own self again.

I chuckled, tightening my hand against his. "Good boy."

It only made him laugh even harder, his free hand covering his dace, even though I could see the deep red tinge of his cheeks. I turned away, feeling pretty good myself.