Farraway Mist ?A Wattpad featured story?

Chapter 18: Day To Day

George was elated. Over the next few days he had to remind himself, over and over, that this wasn't a dream, that he was awake, that this was really his life, and that, as unhappy as he'd been three months ago, he was that ecstatic now.

He was very careful not to show too much to Scout. He didn't want to scare her away. He'd gotten her to agree to stay, to agree to have a child with him, which he found unbelievable. She was willing and eager to share his bed with him every night. He'd told her he loved her, and she apparently returned his feelings.

But she was one of those descendants of the Mayflower or whatever, of the New England Puritans he'd studied in school, those scary, leathery, harsh Americans who'd fought in the Revolutionary War, tough as nails, take no prisoners, unsentimental and no-nonsense through and through.

George wanted to shower her with rose petals, woo her with soft music, kiss her in the moonlight, but he didn't think she was that kind of girl. He didn't want to risk finding out, anyway. This was why he'd shied away from asking her to marry him. He was afraid she'd laugh at him and say no to such a romantic notion as a marriage proposal after knowing each other less than two months. If they hadn't already had unprotected sex, he wouldn't have dreamed of broaching the idea of a baby. He'd been shocked when she'd said yes.

She was in the library right now, poring over the books, and George was in the music room. He was supposed to be "working", but he was distracted, thinking about Scout, as usual. He was trying to think of some excuse so he could go in and see what she was doing without it seeming like an excuse. He didn't want to irritate her by interrupting.

He looked at his watch and sighed. Only ten thirty. In half an hour he could ask if she wanted some tea or something, maybe.

In the library, Scout was sitting at the table with her laptop open in front of her, inputting details from a stack of books, wondering when she could reasonably take a pregnancy test. She tried to remember when she'd had her last period, but couldn't. She knew she'd had at least one since she'd been at Farraway Mist, because she'd been worried about staining George's sheets, but she couldn't remember the dates. The days tended to blend together without classes to go to, or TV to watch or anything.

She thought about George, who was in the music room, and wondered if it was possible that he thought about her as much as she thought about him.

No way, she decided. He'd think she was crazy.

First of all, she thought about sex with George all the time. She didn't know it was possible to be this horny. It was incredible. She was in heat, like, every waking moment. She found herself staring at him, at his hands, remembering something he'd done with them the last time they'd been together, or even his crotch, when they were just sitting playing a game or something. It was embarrassing. Like she was a crazy teenager.

She shook her head, and focused again on the book next to her. She began typing, but almost immediately she was distracted by the soft sounds of the guitar that drifted through the open window.

George was working on something new, and it was beautiful.

Scout looked at her watch. Only twenty more minutes until he'd ask if she wanted some tea. She resolutely looked at the book again and began typing once more.

"Ready for some tea?" George called hopefully through the open door.

"Yeah, sounds great," she answered with a smile, rising and stretching, as he'd hoped she would. She lifted her arms above her head until her back cracked, causing her Lonely Island T-shirt to rise up and show her cute belly button and two inches of white tummy.