She Doesn't Know How Beautiful She Is

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She Doesn't Know How Beautiful She Is

Thomas Pov

(Y/N) and I walk hand in hand down the streets of London. I can’t take my eyes off her. Her long black hair blowing in the wind. Her bright greenish blue eyes darting back and forth between people and places on the street. It’s her first time in London. We met in Louisiana, when I was on set and then we decided to come back to London together.

I watch as everyone turns to stare at (Y/N). I see their mouths drop and their eyes widen. They gawk at her beauty. The beauty she doesn't see. (Y/N) must notice people are staring because she nudges me a bit, looking nervous.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” she asks. I shrug my shoulders with a dumbfounded look on my face.

“I don’t know,” I say stupidly. It amazes me how she doesn’t know how beautiful she is. (Y/N) tilts her head slightly.

“What?” she asks.

“I can’t believe you don’t know,” I say, chuckling.

“Know what?!” (Y/N) asks, turning in front of me, cutting me off from walking any further. Then she nudges my chest, gently.

“That everyone is staring at you,” I confess to (Y/N), stepping past her, continuing to walk. (Y/N) stands there for a while, stunned. Then she catches up. (Y/N) grabs my shoulder and turns me towards her.

“What do you mean ‘everyone is staring at me?’” (Y/N) asks me. I just shrug. I hear (Y/N) groan.

“Fine. Do you really want to know?” I ask her.

“Yes!!” (Y/N) says desperately.

“They are all staring at you because you’re beautiful,” I tell (Y/N). She scrunches up her face and wrinkles her nose. Her expression looks unsatisfied. I smile devilishly. I knew that wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but that’s what was happening. I had noticed that everywhere we went together, people stared. And not just one or two people, but everyone. Everyone stared at (Y/N) as she strutted into a room or down the street. I hear (Y/N) scoff, that breaks my day dream.

“Yeah, whatever. What are they really staring at?” (Y/N) asks. I roll my eyes at her unknowingness.

“Come here,” I said, pulling (Y/N) over to a group of people, gawking at her. “Excuse me, can I ask you a question?” I asked a group of mid-20 year old men and women, chattering about something.

“Umm… Sure?” one of the women replies. I nod and continue.

“I couldn’t help, but notice some of you were looking at my girlfriend here,” I began, pointing at (Y/N). “ I tried to tell her it’s because she’s beautiful, but she doesn’t believe me. Can you tell me why you were watching her?” I ask the group.

“Umm…” the first woman says.

“Your boyfriend is right miss, you are very beautiful,” a man tells (Y/N). I nod.

“Thank you,” I say, pulling (Y/N) away from the group. “Told ya,” I say slyly.

“I can’t believe you did that!” (Y/N) shrieks.

“I’ll do anything to get you to realize how gorgeous you are,” I tell her. Then (Y/N) stops in her tracks. I stop too. She turned towards me and smashed her lips against mine. I kiss her back, hard.

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