Though he desperately refuses the conformities of modern novel tropes, George acknowledges he's just the same as every book character. A side character that is. Studying his way into writing a hit novel George has to master the ups and downs of his...
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"We have problems, baby, but everybody does." Synopsis glaive
⚠️ mild mention of abuse⚠️
Dream
"Courtney," I groan. She's in my bed saying my name loud enough to bother my entire house but I don't care because she's in my bed. And naked and I am having the time of my life... until I finish.
It all comes crashing down like a foul on the ice. Arms outstretched from the ref to give me a penalty. I clean her up with cautious touches, diligent looks, and she walks out to use the restroom, the entire time something doesn't feel right. In fact, something feels terribly wrong. I'm racking my brain as I pull off the condom and clean up our sheets but whatever it is I can't seem to put my finger on it.
A butterfly kiss appears soft against my shoulder minutes later, "happy 3 years, honey, love you."
Though I'm distracted, I find it in myself to smile because this is a big milestone. A step into our long future.
"3 years," I mutter back. Meanwhile, Courtney has her silk chiffon nightgown on and a glass of water, draping herself against my pillows. I admire her for a moment, maybe two. "To believe you managed to wrangle me around your little finger."
"It was all in the tactic."
My brows furrow, "tactic?"
She purses her lips and sets the glass on my side table. It rests on top of one of George's old English novels. He must have left it here at some point, the thought makes my heart ache a bit. This night has gone so smoothly because of him.
"I wanted you." Courtney's smile is gentle when I move beneath the covers with her, perfectly manicured fingers pull me upward. "I had to make sure to get you. You're the man of my dreams."
I kiss her, "pun intended?"
She wraps herself tightly around my torso nuzzling close. Soon enough her body heat will eat me alive and I'll be suffocating, but I love her so I don't move. Instead, I suffer in silence and brush her hair away from her sleepy eyes. Her lash extensions make her seem brighter with both lids closed. Even the low lights in the mess of blonde hair are visible after George mentioned the change.
"When did you get your hair done?"
Courtney hums, she's never been the talkative type in the aftermath of sex, "last weekend. Just wanted to look a bit different... you like it?"
My fingers hook into a straight strand, "yeah, makes your eyes brighter."
A huff, "you're such a flirt."
The rain outside of my window beats down a little harder as our night swells on. Quiet drips in anticipation of a downpour, It's the epitome of my own anxiety. Courtney is on the cusp of falling asleep against my chest when she speaks again.
