Addicted to You

"Tolerate It"

I sat on Timothée's bed, putting my shirt back on, my heart still racing from our passionate kiss. Timothée came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I love you, Leia," he whispered, sending shivers down my spine.

I smiled, turning my head to kiss him again. We got dressed, hand in hand, and headed to the living room where Timothée's parents were waiting.

We chatted with them for a bit, laughing and joking, before I knew I had to head home. Timothée walked me out to his car, his arm around my shoulders.

As we drove, our hands intertwined, our fingers laced together. We pulled up to my house, and Timothée turned off the engine. We sat there, making out in the car, our lips locked in a passionate embrace.

Finally, I pulled away, my cheeks flushed, my heart racing. "I should go," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Timothée nodded, his eyes filled with desire. "I'll call you later," he said, his voice low and husky.

I nodded, getting out of the car, feeling the cool evening air on my skin. I watched as Timothée drove away, my heart filled with love and excitement. I knew my dad wasn't happy about our relationship, but I didn't care. I was happy, and that's all that mattered.

I walked into my house, feeling happy and content after my time with Timothée. But my dad's sarcastic comment quickly brought me back down to earth.

"Wow, you're finally done making out with Timothée, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with disapproval.

I felt my face flush with embarrassment and annoyance. "Dad, come on. That's not fair."

My dad raised an eyebrow. "Not fair? You're the one who's was sneaking around with him behind my back. You're the one who's been ignoring my concerns about his behavior."

I sighed, feeling frustrated. "Dad, you don't understand. Timothée loves me, and I love him. We're happy together."

My dad shook his head. "Happy? Is that what you call it? Leia, you're just infatuated with the idea of being in love."

I felt a surge of defensiveness. "I know how I feel."

My dad scoffed, but his eyes remained concerned.

~

I settled into my favorite spot on my bed, surrounded by pillows and textbooks, and turned up the volume on my music. The sweet melodies and empowering lyrics filled my room, creating a cozy and productive atmosphere.

With a happy sigh, I dove into my homework, the music providing a welcome distraction from my dad's disapproving words. I sang along to my favorite songs, using the rhythm to help me memorize formulas and historical dates.

As I worked, I felt my mind clear, and my focus sharpen. The music seemed to block out all the negative thoughts and worries, leaving me feeling confident and capable.

Before I knew it, hours had passed, and my homework was done. I closed my books, feeling proud of myself for staying focused and getting everything done.

With a contented smile, I leaned back against my pillows, letting the music wash over me. I closed my eyes, feeling grateful for the escape it provided, and drifted off into a happy daydream, Timothée's smile and kiss still fresh in my mind.

My phone buzzed, breaking through my daydream. I smiled, knowing it was probably Timothée. I opened my eyes and reached for my phone, my heart skipping a beat as I saw his name on the screen.

"Hey, gorgeous," his first text read. "Just wanted to make sure you're still thinking about me."

I blushed, feeling a flutter in my chest. "Always," I replied, my fingers flying across the keyboard.