[You Got My Soul]

24°

» "i know you want the same last name as him. Him being Tiller, he a solid young nigga..."

Paris woke up to Bryson moving around in bed. She sat up a bit and smiled.

"Good morning." She said with yawn.

"Good morning, did I wake you up? My bad."

"You're fine." Paris said and slid out of the bed to go to the bathroom. As she showered, she mentally hit herself for not talking like she was suppose to.

"When you go back in there...talk to him." She instructed herself.

She got of the shower and got dressed, then did her hair before leaving out of the bathroom.

"You were in there for a long time," he said once she came out, "I missed you."

Paris chuckled slightly and put some things back into her suitcase. He took her arm and pulled her to where he sat on the edge of the bed.

Standing between his legs, Paris sighed deeply and Bryson wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Your skin is so soft." He whispered quietly.

"Bryson, I need to talk to you." Paris cleared her throat.

"Mm?" He said kissing his collarbone.

"Stop, Bryson." She said with slight irritation in her voice. He ignored her and continued to plant kisses across her chest.

"Stop!" She rose her voice and pulled herself from his grip. Puzzled, Bryson put his hands up.

"Um, okay." He said giving her a funny look.

"I need to— I need to talk to you." She said, clearly upset.

"What I do?" He asked confused.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just— where are we right now?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you think of me as? In your mind, who am I to you?" Paris reiterated on the verge of tears.

"Y-you're my girl..." Bryson replied, not one hundred percent sure of himself.

"Like your girlfriend? Cause you always introduce me to people as your best friend." She blew out a frustrated blow.

"I do? I didn't even notice honesty, why don't you say something?" He asked.

"We never talked about it. I thought you that's all I was to you. I mean, all we ever do is have sex."

"I barely ever see so when I do, I just want to touch you. I didn't think that was a bad thing..." He explained.

"It's not, it's just— I love you and you make me feel special and I don't want to lose you but I don't want to be just your friend with benefits— " She started rambling on through her tears.

"Marry me." He said suddenly, cutting her off.

"Huh?" Her eyes grew larger as she tried to wipe her tears away.

"Marry me, right now. We can go right now." He said grabbing both of her hands into his.

"You want to marry me?" She asked looking into his passionate eyes.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I was going to wait until I had a ring but we can get that later." He said kissing her hand.

Paris was speechless, just staring at him.

"Will you?" He asked, kissing her hand again.

"Ok. I'll marry you. I'll marry you!" She said finally getting excited. He laughed and pulled her into a hug.

"Whew. I was scared for a minute." He sighed with relief and kissed her wildly before they playfully fell on the bed.