𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙭𝙩𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧, pedri

                                    

                                          
❝ you drew stars around my scars. ❞
⇄ ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹ ↻
"Okay, Liv. Tips for the wedding. I need some conversation starters." I ask of her, my arm wrapped around her waist as we walk through the club's garden and she eats her ice cream.
"They have a price." She answers. I don't get what she means. I look down and see her smirking as my confused expression asks for clarification. "A kiss."
I grin. When did mean, harsh, killer Olive, turn into this softie? I don't question it though. I stop us mid-walk and pull her closer into me, pressing her body against mine.
She holds her hand out, leaving the ice cream away as I press our lips together. The taste of her mint chocolate chip ice cream, invades both our lips.
She giggles into my mouth, making me smile as I keep my lips against her, savoring this moment. I never want this to end.
Her free hand crawls up to my chest and she places it there softly, using it as support to reach me easier. 
When we pull back, her cheeks are completely flushed. I beam, seeing her this way. "Okay, you've earned yourself a couple tips."
I take her free hand again and we continue our walk. "Anytime you wanna get away from a conversation with two people, just say, 'What about that last Sagesse - Riyadeh match?' and you'll immediately lose them and can slip away easily." She commences.
"What are they?"
"Basketball teams. You remember when you and Pablo came over Isa and I's apartment back at the world cup?" She asks and I recall perfectly so I nod my head. "Remember when we cooked that lasagna and watched Basketball at the same time?" Oh my God, yeah! 
She was with the Sagesse team and I chose that other random team just to be against her. "Oh, yeah..." I remember.
"Yep. Sagesse - Riyadeh is basically the equivalent of Real - Barca for Lebanese Basketball." She explains further more and I nod my head, taking in the information.
"Moving on. With old people," She starts. "There is no getting away. So just say okay at all times to everything, no questions asked. Or they'll repeat themselves over and over again a million times, you'll be stuck in Lebanon forever." I chuckle lightly hearing this one.
I guide us to the direction of the beach as she continues listing me a couple of does and don'ts that I keep restored in mind preciously. They seem like a survivor kit.
She's given me all kinds of advice. And specifically things towards her family. Each of them, their likes and dislikes.
We've somehow found ourselves sitting on the sand since we've been walking non stop for the past hour and a half.
The landscape is mesmerizing. We have a pretty clear view of the beach and the reflection of the moon over it. We can hear the sound of its waves as a background to Olive's words.
She stops talking for a little while, just enjoying the silence and the sound of waves as she lays her head on my shoulder.
I hold onto her hand as it sits on the sand, giggly but comfortable at the same time. It's probably not the best idea for me to sit on the sand in my suit.