LOVER || conrad fisher x reader

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"The chairs will go here," Belly explains, walking on the beach by the house. "The altar will go right here and flowers will decorate all the furniture," she's beaming.

"It sounds amazing, Bells," you let out, utterly in awe of the fact that the wedding is coming up so soon. "A beach wedding—it suits you and Jeremiah so well,"

"I know," she agrees. "Oh, also! The pool is being covered and turned into the dancefloor for the reception afterwards,"

"I can't wait to see Jeremiah twerk on top of a swimming pool cover. If we were still sixteen, he would have been fired from his dream job at the country club," you joke.

"Paige hated him at first, but she soon realised it's impossible not to love him. In all his annoying and charming glory," Belly gushes about her man.

"Amen to that," you agree, slinking your arm around her shoulders as the two of you head back up to the house.

"Taylor's arriving this evening, by the way," she continues, entering the back door to the kitchen. "She'll come round tomorrow. She's staying in a hotel, since we don't have the room space right now, before you ask," she looks at you knowingly—she knew exactly what you were about to ask.

You perch on a bar stool. "Any space for Conrad in that hotel?" you joke. "I feel bad that he's sleeping on the floor all summer,"

"He suggested it when we were first talking about you coming," Belly begins. "I think he just really wanted you back in the house. We all did,"

So, it was Conrad's idea to suffer on the floor for your sake?

"I still feel bad,"

"Don't," Belly says softly. "He really really doesn't mind,"

You and Conrad head into town after breakfast, under instruction from Belly to find vases for the flower arrangements for the wedding. You search store after store, collecting multiple different vases that fit her theme.

Conrad is bored. He's milling around next to you, but not really focused. Every time you pick up another vase he rolls his eyes, groaning to himself and leaning against store shelves for some respite.

"Hey," you click your fingers at him once, when you see him fucking falling asleep. "Wake up, idiot," Conrad flicks his eyes open, but it's clear that he's had enough. You stop and turn to him, frowning at him slightly. "Didn't sleep well?"

"Something like that," he lets out. His voice is a coarse croak. You suddenly feel awful.

"I told you that if you needed to sleep in your bed that I'd—,"

"And I elected not to hear you," he cuts over you, strolling forward with sagged shoulders. "I'm fine, really," he lies. You tut at him involuntarily, shooting him a knowing look.

"Let's get a coffee," you say, all but dragging Conrad out of the store.

You park Conrad's Jeep outside a small café, one that you'd seen have a transfer from owner to owner over the years, but the coffee was ultimately the best in Cousins. A bell dings when you and Conrad pull open the door, and inside you're met with the bitter burst of coffee granules in the air.

Conrad grabs the back of your top as you stride to the counter. You think nothing of it. It's just normal now, for him to want to be close. For you to accept that closeness.

You haven't talked more about what happened the other day—the confession, the attraction. Instead, you both accept that you said it, admitted it, and it's basically gone back to normal. Laurel gives you knowing looks in the house, same as Cleveland with Conrad, but the two of you act as normal as you always have; inseparable, happy, emotions and feelings hidden underneath the banter you share instead.