Never so simple. Duncan Keith. Requested.
You rummaged through your drawers “Cute but simple, what the hell does that even mean?” You muttered to yourself. “How do I look cute but simple?” Your phone vibrated. It was Duncan. The two of you had been on a few dates, but you still chose not to call him your boyfriend. You definitely liked him, and it wasn’t because you were scared of commitment that you didn’t want to be “official”, it was because of what people would say. There were already so many fucked up comments all over your Instagram calling you names just because you went on a few dates with a guy you genuinely liked.
I’ll come by in 30, that sound good? You read, a smile creeping over your face. You grabbed the soft pink flowy dress from your drawer and through it on, “Simple enough.” You said to yourself as you looked in the mirror. You noticed your hair had that signature ponytail bump and you sighed, rushing towards your curler to turn it on. You applied some mascara and chapstick, remembering to stick to a simple look. You quickly curled your hair, not worrying if it looked crazy as long as you got that terrible bumped sorted out.
As soon as you unplugged the curler you heard the doorbell ring, your heart instantly began to beat faster. No matter how many dates or kisses the two of you exchanged, he still made your heart race. You looked in the mirror one last time, “You got this, y/n.” You said to yourself, flattening your dress and making your way towards the door.
“Damn, I don’t think I’ll ever not be blown away by how damn beautiful you are.” Duncan said, a bouquet of roses in his arms, you tried not to blush but felt your cheeks turn red despite your wishes. He pulled you in for a kiss, “These are for you.” You grabbed the roses, drawing them closer to your nose, inhaling as they touched the tip.
“They smell amazing, Duncan.” You linked hands and wondered inside, “I wasn’t sure what you wanted when you said simple but cute.” You laughed, motioning towards your dress. You scanned Duncan’s body, he was wearing dark jeans and a short sleeve button up, his hair was crazy, but the kind of crazy that looked good.
“No, you’re perfect, babe. I wanted us to look nice, but not overly dressed.” You grabbed a vase from the cupboard, filled it with water and placed the roses into it.
“So what exactly are our plans tonight, mister?” You winked at him, “You got some horse drawn carriage waiting for us outside or are we doing a cute little picnic at the park?”
Duncan grabbed your hand and walked you towards the couch. “Something a little simpler.” He laughed. The two of you collapsed on the couch, your fingers still intertwined. “I know how much you love Shark Week and that we didn’t get to watch because of all the traveling we’d been doing, so I may have recorded all of them and ordered pizza,” he looked down at his watch, “which should be here quite soon.” You laughed, squeezing his hand unintentionally.
You giggled, the amount you actually liked him started to become more clear. All your past boyfriends had never done something so simple that meant so much. You kissed him on his cheek, “You’re damn great, Duncan.” You laughed, “Out of curiosity though, what was with the getting cute part if we were just gonna stay in?”
He blushed, “I still wanted you to know it was a date. I know it’s sort of ridiculous, but y/n, I wanted you to still feel special.”
You kissed him softly, this time your lips grazing his, the sexual tension between you two heating the room, “Duncan, you always make me feel special.”
“I want you to be mine.” He whispered. You pulled back, not understanding fully what he meant. He noticed your crinkled eyebrows and quickly said, “No, I don’t mean in that way, I mean, I want you to be my girlfriend. I want everyone to know how much I like you, y/n. I want them to know that we’re together.”
A small sigh left your lips, you wanted to say yes, you wanted to be his, but there was a part of you that knew you weren’t ready to be official. You moved closer to him, tracing his features slowly with your fingers, touching his soft lips. “Soon, my boy.”
As he went in for a kiss the doorbell rang, the two of you laughing. “Pizza and Shark Week sound good?” He ran his fingers through his hair. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, the way he stood, so confident yet so sincere and real.
“That sounds like the perfect date night to me, loser.”
