'Thank you, Yifan, for coming on our show', the host says to my boyfriend on live TV.

'Thank you as well. It's a pleasure being here', Yifan politely smiles. The host goes on to ask him about his upcoming films and music projects. Meanwhile, I can't help but admire his looks. Everytime I see him, It's like the first time on eternal repeat. Hair just short enough to wave my hand through it, brown eyes that speak wonders, a perfect nose, cheeks just short of chubby, lips that I've had the pleasure of kissing, and that chiseled jawline. 

Yes, that gorgeous man sitting on an expensive lush sofa for a very popular talk show that broadcasts live, being watched my millions right now, is my boyfriend.

We met each other at the success party for his debut movie. A friend of mine was related to the director of the film, and hence the invites to the party.

When I first talked to him, I was intimidated. He was a superstar, and I was an aspiring writer. But a few minutes into the conversation, we kind of hit it off.

Two months later, we started dating. And it's been a year since. A great year at that.

'Just yesterday, these pictures were released by some reporters', the host says pointing to the pictures of me and Yifan on the screen behind him.

We wanted to keep our relationship private for as long as we could. It was something that we both agreed on. And it was just fine, until some reporter managed to click some pictures of us on our way back from a cinema theater two days back.

The fortunate thing is that only Yifan's face is visible, not mine. We were walking down the street to his car. He had me pulled close to him, his arm around my waist and mine around his. The unfortunate thing is that the pictures were trending on every social networking site you could think of. 

'It looks like you're really close with her. All the fans must be undergoing a major crisis right now.', the host continues. And the camera moves onto Yifan, who stares intently at the screen showing the pictures. 

'So, let me ask you directly. Are you in a relationship currently?', the host asks.

'Yes, I am', Yifan has that unreadable expression on. 

The crowd erupts into surprising noises. A few seconds pass by and the host finally continues,'Is it anyone we might know?'

'No, she isn't in the entertainment industry, if that's what you were asking', that poker face still there. He must be pissed right now at the massive interruption of privacy. We only found out about the pictures yesterday night. 

'Fans must be itching to know who that lucky girl is. Why don't you let us on the secret?', the host noses in. 

'She isn't the lucky one. But I sure as hell am the luckiest person living right now', he says finally breaking that poker face giving rise to a small smile. A part of the audience 'aww's at that and I blush, even though I'm not right in front of him when he says that. He has the power to do that to me, even when he's far away.

'So, who is this girl that makes you call yourself the luckiest person in the world?', the host prompts itching to know who I am himself. But sadly, I know Yifan isn't going to give my name away. He holds respect for a person's privacy just as much as I do. 

'My beautiful woman shall have to be nameless for some time. I'd like to continue keeping my personal life private. We were caught offguard with the sudden invasion of privacy. I hope everyone respects my decision', he starts with a smile and ends with a firm nod, implying that he will talk no more on the matter. The host seemed to have got the message. 

The show ends some fifteen minutes later with the host asking Yifan about a charity program he's supporting. And it doesn't go in vain the fact that he called me 'his' beautiful woman on national television.

I mean, my mom and dad were goodlooking. So naturally, I am as well. But I wouldn't admit that in real life. I consider modesty an important virtue. Pride had it's moments. I got my thick wavy black hair and button nose from my mom, my sparkling brown eyes and soft lips from my dad.

My height, though, is a completely different issue. My 5'4 height supports my slim frame, but unfortunately, I am tiny next to my 6'2 tall boyfriend. He constantly teases me about it, but he usually gets away with it by calliing me pretty or cute afterwards. 

The chorus from Yifan's 'There is a place' starts playing, and I switch off the TV before answering it.

A grin spreads on my face as soon as I see the caller ID. I anwer it immediately.

'I watched the show!', I say excitedly only to hear chuckles from the other end.

'And here, I was expecting an I miss you from my girlfriend. So how was I? Did I handle it right like a professional would?', he asks and I know he's got that mocking smile on his face right now.

'You're no way near professional FYI. But..'

'But what?'

'It was alright', I lie. He was great, in fact but I wasn't going to fuel his ego more than it already is. 

'I'll come to your place tonight and when I do, you're going to apologize for lying to me, you pinnochio', he chides playfully.

'I am not lying', I continue to deny relentlessly.

'La la la la la la..', he sings into the phone muting my denials.

'Okay, okay, you were good. Fine?', I surrender.

'Finally, the goddess admits. Praise the lord !', he exclaims. And I can't help but laugh.

'God, I love that laugh', he whispers.

'You do?', I whisper back blushing.

'Yes, and I can't wait to explore that mouth of yours tonight as well', his now husky voice says. Now, I'm blushing from head to toe.

My breathing increases and we don't talk for a few seconds.

I hear someone calling Yifan from the other end if the phone.

I finally speak, 'Looks like duty is calling you. Go and work. I'll be waiting'. I don't even recognize my voice my right now. It's so fragile now.

I hear him groan a bit. 'God, I want to taste you ri-', I don't let him finish his sentence.

'Bye', I shout and abruptly hang up. I whimper a bit at his almost finshed sentence. After a few minutes of regaining my composure from Yifan's me to my me, I finally continue doing the house chores trying not to think about our call anymore. 

But that obviously didn't happen. Ever since Yifan entered my life, nothing has been okay, fine or normal. Eveything has been phenomenal, exciting. Even when we fight, we make up the very next day.

And I know I'll love him more tomorrow than I did today. That's just how he affects me.

He is 'the one' for me and God, do I hope that I'm the one for him as well.

 

I wake up to someone carrying me in their arms. Arms I'm very well acquainted with. My boyfriend. I must have fallen asleep waiting for him.

'You're awake', Yifan says quietly. 

I open my eyes wide and look up at my lovely boyfriend, 'Yes'

He smiles as he puts me down on the bed, 'Sorry I kept you waiting, work took longer than I expected'

'It's alright', I insist smiling as he one side of my face with his large hand. 'You know what?', he asks.

'What?'

'When you sleep, you have that smile. A smile that could have ended the World War within seconds. So peaceful, and so much more beautiful', he whispers.

I blush immediately. And before I can protest, he kisses me. His lips still lapping over mine as he gets on the bed and hovers over me. His hands slide down to my hips and I sling my arms around his neck, asking for more indirectly. The kiss is slow, and painfully pleasureful. He reluctantly ends the kiss as he pulls my lip with his teeth, 'God, you're so y'

I blush again. He just knows what to say all the time. He then slowly starts leaving kisses on my neck. I know where this is going. 'Umm, Yifan?', I ask.

He doesn't reply. Instead he moves his hands to pull my shirt up. 'Yifan', I say once again. He looks up at me.

'I'm having my periods right now', I say embarassed. 'So?', he says. So? I look at him incredulously, my jaw dropped wide open. 

His cool expression gives away the cheeky laugh he was trying to hide. 'Damn, that expression was priceless!', he laughs right at me.

I am so embarassed and angry that I start hitting him with the pillow. 'Ouch, stop ! stop ! I'm sorry', he pleads finally grabbing both my wrists.

'Okay, so how long until we can make love again?', he asks. How can he be so comfortable with stuff like this?

'Three days', I say. 'That's a long time. But are you sure we can't do this while you're on your periods? I wouldn't mine a bit of blood on me', he teases.

'YIFAN !', I shout utterly embarassed right now. He chuckles that cute laugh of his. He then pulls me to his chest and kisses my forehead, 'I made you blush, mission accomplished. Now, let's sleep. Both of us are tired, alright?', he asks quietly.

'Alright', I say and a few minutes later we fall into a deep slumber. And I dream that night. About him, just like I do every night.