A Healthy Obsession

A Package for Brandon

~ Brandon ~

It's not fan mail.

I've put off opening it for a while. Telling myself it's fan mail, or a past hookup, but it's not.

No one has my address except my closest friends and the occasional hookup. But I haven't had sex in over 4 months. Not since being with y/n.

I haven't wanted anyone else. No one can compare to her. I've lost count of how many times I've jacked off to the memory of her wet cunt around me.

I know running off and dodging calls was a dick move. I know. But I was scared, scared of my own feelings and potentially ruining friendships.

I've never felt like this before and it's terrifying. I developed real feelings for a girl, my best friend's girlfriend no less.

Every time Arny posts on YouTube or TikTok or streams I hope I'll see even a glimpse of y/n. But I don't. I guess that's kind of a creeper thing to do but I think I'm obsessed with this girl, and not just sexually.

I want to know her coffee order, what she looks like when she just wakes up. I want to take her to dinner, buy her a dress, fuck, maybe even start a family with her. I just want her. But I'll never have her again. So I will distance myself completely, at least until these damn feelings go away.

I open the package, out falls a card and a small item wrapped in bubble wrap.

I go for the bubble wrap first, gifts are oftentimes more interesting than cards.

Ripping apart the popping paper, there's a small bag. In the bag is a Covid test. I put it back immediately.
Why the fuck would someone send me a Covid test? Can you get Covid from touching a test? Covid was worse than mono, and I'm not doing that again.

I sigh and go for the card. I take it out of the blue envelope and read the front.
Pink or blue a dream come true!

Ok then. That's a weird start to a card.

I open the card and read the rest.

Congrats baby!
There's a 50/50 chance you're a dad. Call Arny if your heart can grow a size or two. We need to talk.

I drop the card and scramble to grab the bag. I reach for the test and actually read it.

Pregnant

I slump against the wall, sliding down until I'm on the floor. My mind whirls as I attempt to process this information.

Y/n is pregnant.

I might be a dad.

I completely ghosted her, and Arny.

I checked my texts and voicemails. Still only hearing the same ignored messages from y/n and Arny.

Pregnant.

Fuck.
Fuck.

I'm so fucked.