successful ; david dobrik

74

DAVID

She knows how to swim because she loves to float, loves to look at her morphed reflection in the water and giggle at her features. She talks to herself to remember the grocery lists, keep things orderly in her brain that always seems to be racing. Her thoughts are already messy enough, she insists, a giggle on her lips, talking to herself just helps. She has a mole on the inner part of her leg, on the left side of her right knee. She has a line of freckles going up the side of her right calf, a line of brown dots that lead right up to a scar that she got while dancing in middle school. She has a line of dark beauty marks below her collarbone and it's one of the only things she likes about herself. I know so much about her and yet it still doesn't feel like enough, still want to learn more and more about the woman that I love.

"What are you thinking about?" Lorelei asks, breaking me from my thoughts, from the tap of my pen against the notebook in my lap. She's carrying a glass of wine in her hand and glasses are perched atop her nose, small smile playing on her lips.

I don't answer for a second, my eyes wandering down to that line of beauty marks, peaking out from the fabric of her shirt. She smells like lavender and as she sits down beside me, I want nothing more than to hold her tight to my chest and promise to never leave her, because I know that that's her biggest fear—being left, being abandoned by the people she loves. "Thinking about you," I say, watching as she stretches her legs out over my lap, pushing her glasses up. "I didn't realize I knew so much about you until I just kind of got lost thinking about it."

Lorelei's lips curve up in a small smile as she looks down at me, her hands moving to rest on top of mine. She loves the cold way too much, and as her cold hands wrap around mine I wonder if that has something to do with it. I wish I could write her a song, write her a book or something to put all the things I know about her together in one coherent space. "You're sweet," She says, leaning forward to press a kiss to my temple. "How are you feeling, bub?"

I hike my shoulders in a shrug, blowing a sigh past my lips. I feel like death on legs, my head aching and my entire body sore. I know I'm getting sick, know that going out to film in the rain the other day was not a good idea, but nonetheless press a kiss to Lorelei's forehead. "Better," I say, even though we both know it's not true. She lifts a brow slightly but doesn't say anything, simply letting her fingers roam over the fabric of my sweatpants. "I love you."

Lorelei's eyes meet mine, her cheeks tinted a light pink. She looks prettier than ever under the moonlight that seeps in from the windows, her features seeming more dramatic as shadows cast across her face. I lean in to press a kiss to her lips, her hand moving up to rest on my shoulder. "I love you, too," She whispers when I pull away, her fingers raking through my hair. "You ready to move?"

I don't know how to answer. Truth be told, I'm unsure that I made the right choice with moving, after all. This house was one of my biggest achievements, after all. I'm going to miss it, certainly, but moving does seem like a good change of pace. "Yeah," I say, brushing the tips of my fingers over the back of her hand, watching as her eyes flutter shut and she leans back against me, soft exhale leaving her lips. "Are you?"

Lorelei nods her head, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. Her lips are soft against my skin, her breath warm as it fans over my neck. "Astley'll love it," She hums, kissing my neck. "So much room for him to run."

"Maybe we can get another dog," I say, watching as Lorelei pulls back slightly, brown eyes fluttering open. She raises a brow, her lips tilting up in a small smile. "The old man could use a friend, yeah?"

"Maybe," She murmurs, laughing quietly. I smile and lean down, kissing her temple. She sighs softly, smile remaining on her lips as she leans in to kiss me again. Her mouth slots against mine, tongue swiping over my lower lip. She tastes like berries, like the blueberry and raspberry smoothie she drank at lunch. "What do you want for dinner, bub?"

I don't answer for a moment, only gazing up at the pretty woman and wondering, for the millionth time, how I got so lucky with finding her. "Whatever you want," I say, letting my hand capture hers.

"Pizza?" Lorelei asks, grin on her lips.

"Anything for you, petal."