《✰⋆ Just Like the Movies ⋆ 1940/1950/1960 Imagines and Short Stories ✰⋆》✰⋆ James Dean ✰⋆

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The streets of New York City were more crowded than normal. Cars scramming every direction and foot traffic coming to stops quick. People were struggling to find shelter to hide from the rain. You didn't mind it. You were actually fond of it.

"Just take your shoes off, 'could tell they're killin' ya," your boyfriend said in between snaps of his camera. You looked down at your red ankles. It wasn't the best idea to wear stilettos in the rain, especially when you didn't know where you were going.

You slipped your heels off and hooked your finger around the bottoms. Your feet felt cold on the concrete but felt the relief felt better.

You looked to your left to see James walking with his camera held up to his face. He was capturing photographs of the skyscrapers and people looking up at them.

He wasn't like other celebrities. He didn't like the busy life. He'd rather be here, with you. In the rain. In New York City. Taking photos, he craved the quietness.

You linked your arm with his. He looked down at you and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. His lips were cold.

"I think I got enough pictures. Let's get warm." He bundled his coat closer to his chest and walked quickly with you in tow.

You made it to your hotel quickly and leaped up the stairs to your room.

"Oh goodness, it feels better to not be cold anymore!"

You were in the bathroom putting on dry clothes. James had laid down in the middle of the small bed. He was often quiet, which he makes up for in his films. You hung up your wet clothes on towel racks.

You walked out to your boyfriend who had his arms opened for you. You laughed and slowly laid next to him.

You gazed into his eyes lovingly then looked down at his pouty lips, "you know I'd warm you up anytime."

"I have no doubt about that." You leaned in and pressed a loving kiss to his now warm lips. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, if that was possible.

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