Be Mine: A Georgiana & Michael short story (Illusion of Certainty Short Story)

How Bad Is It?

Chapter One – How Bad Is It?

Day before Valentine’s Day…

Michael?

What?

I have a headache.

I heard him sigh from across the table. At the moment we were in the library, me doing research for a history paper and him doing some leisurely reading. The table top was already covered with books but here lately I’d get leftover headaches from the concussion I received in New York. They would start simple enough, just being a cluster in the front, right behind the center of my forehead. But If I let it get too bad, it would feel like someone wrapped a rubber band around my brain and pulled it as tightly as possible.

How bad is it?

About a four.

Georgiana…

What?

We’ve only been here fifteen minutes.

It’s not my fault my brain is trying to turn to mush.

His sigh was louder this time, accompanied by the sound of his chair sliding across carpet. I tried not to smile at the fact I was the only one who get that sort of reaction out of him. I didn’t have to look up in order to know what he was doing. Here lately, he was the only person I knew better than myself and most of the time, his actions were as predictable as my own. Then again what he was about to do was something he’d been doing often these days. Granted, I was certain the headaches wouldn’t be as bad if we didn’t use the bond but it was my normal way of communication with him. It would be weird if I stopped. Hell, it would be weird if I talked to him any other way. Half the time I wasn’t sure if I was speaking out loud or in my head when I talked to him.  

“Tell me when to stop.”

Michael stood behind me and very gently placed his fingers on my temples before starting to do slow circles with light pressure. That was our routine to stretch it out. I didn’t like taking drugs so most days I toughed it out. The headaches were better than when I first got back and I was told they would dissipate over time. So I was hoping it would be sooner rather than later.

“Maybe if you took something for it…”

“Shut up and do your job.”

I grinned up at him even though my eyes were closed. He was used to my sharp comments and he knew they weren’t as harsh as they sounded. Sometimes he was even meaner than I was.

“What are you doing Thursday?”

“Um…” I frowned. “Nothing. You know that.”

“You’re not planning on going to the dance?”

I cracked an eye open and looked at him. “I don’t do dances anymore.”

He looked pensive as he stared down at the table and continued to move his fingers in slow circles. “So that means you’d be free to go out to dinner with me.”

My other eye popped opened and I stared up at him. “We have dinner together every night.”

“This would be different.” He stopped with the fixed stare and looked down at me. “This would be like a…date.”

A date? Are you trying to ask me out?

He stopped massaging my temples and sat in the seat next to me, not breaking eye contact.

“Yes. That would be what I’m doing.”

My brow creased a little. I don’t know if that would be a good idea.