Reunion with My Billionaire Ex

Romance for the Romanticist II

Romance for the Romanticist II

Maurice's POV,

“No, I gave five hours of my weekend to help you.”

“That’s what assistants are for, don’t you think?” I uttered.

“That is only limited to the weekends. Other than that, we are not in that relationship.”

“Oh! Really. Then what kind of relationship do we have?”

“Um… let’s see… friendship?” He is a thinker, isn’t he? I'm seeing some new sides of him, never thought I would. “No. a pursuer and pursue. Yeah! That’s better. And I’ll take all my time with equal interest.” He chuckled.

“What do you suggest I should do to repay your time wasted?”

“Just coffee won't do. A proper date? I don’t take birthdays any less than a fiesta.”

“News flash. It’s my birthday.” I purred. "I don't need it fancy. I don't do anything."

“That makes it more important.”

“Date it is. Whatever you say, I don’t have anything to do, anyway. Any suggestions are welcome.”

“You think nothing more than coffee or a burger. French fries is your limit.”

“Run your intelligent horses. Everyone has their own area of expertise. This seems to be yours.”

“We will go to the movies, for starters, and then, I'll tell you more. Maybe my ‘expertise’,” he finger-quoted, “has some new inspirations by then.”

“Alright, the movie sounds good.”

~ I don’t like movies. I don’t like theatres. Now. But I loved them. If I was still someone who could dream and think for some time, it would be realized. Theatres were the place I have a lot of memories of. Even if I was alone, I didn’t care. I was in the drama club at school. Everyone knew the kids and the staff and I would go so far as to say to the principal that there wouldn't be a drama played in the theatre class at school if I wasn’t a part of it. I go to the movies every week, not just for fun but to observe, and one thing that almost cracks me up and I've noticed on several occasions, it could be a trick for actors, but if there is some kind of emotional scene that is to be played and the actor isn’t really up to the par, they usually get a prop. It makes the scene easier. It was my research for my career, the one I wanted. I chose the colleges I wanted to go to, to pursue acting in London. I had all my plans written in my mind. Elaborated to the least details.

The movie theatre is where my brain is operates through music, actions, and words. And the eyes always have their part of pleasure with high-resolution creative production. I swear I've learned so much more about those velvet chairs and popcorn on my lap and soda in my hands than I ever did in the drama class. But I was glad I was talented. And people mostly agreed with my talent. Teachers said I had a good memory, and I delivered the dialogues well.

I only watched movies in the theatre. I don’t remember once in the past seven years that I've seen any, no time for everything I've loved throughout my life. The difference between watching them on TV and theatre is the difference between being watered from a bottle and being drenched in a rainstorm. I missed this rainstorm.

“How long is it going to take? I don’t think it’s moving at all.” I exclaimed. “So, which one do you want to see?” I said, eying the two neon posters hanging on the wall. What am I doing? ‘Wasting a few nights, I got off with no work, standing in this stupid queue.’ A voice came. All the time, dad had a theatre built in the house. These queues are just… tiring me out. “I'll let you choose since you’ve been a good boy... I mean assistant.” I cleared my throat, almost breaking into a burst of laughter as his face grew red to my comment. You deserve it.

What? I wasn’t lying.

“Never mind what I want.” His gaze stared back at me but was quite consistent with his stability. I can't understand the meaning behind it. “What do you want? To watch, I mean.” His voice was quieter now as he once again ran his fingers through his flowy hair. “Shouldn’t you choose?”

He just knows what he was doing, maybe that’s printed in his DNA to be seductive with all those moves and quirks. All the trained moves of a romantic hero who loves playing with his hair, the cute smile he turns to the love interest now and then, the little chest in the air tipping off the muscles he had. I'm soon getting asthma, he just needs more oxygen to shine that bright.

I see you boy.

“I want what you want,” I uttered, finally starting to enjoy the cool breeze, wiping my arms as I almost shivered at the sudden chill. I did well to keep the suit jacket back in the car. It would’ve been suffocating without this freshness.

“I want you.” he paused in exactly one breath. Do I even care anymore how well rehearsed all his actions are? The situation is different under his control.

I swear if he keeps this on, I'm gonna go back and write a novel about his pickup lines. Well, all of them are pretty cheesy, but not after I land a smack on him for teasing me so much. I hate violence but he is forcing me to be that. I can't keep up with him like this. “Which one would you like?” he coughed. “Action thriller or romantic comedy?”