eleanor
It was happening again. She was falling for him again. Fuck. All it took was one conversation. One string of pathetic sentences that fought way too hard to make sense. One scene of dialogue and she was done. The fork had been stuck in her. The fat lady had sang. A metaphorical cherub shot a metaphorical arrow in her metaphorical ass and she was phorically in love with him.
Was that even a word?
She hoped it was a word.
Park would laugh at her. And then say something like “only Shakespeare can make up words.”
“What about Dr. Seuss?”
“When you can rhyme like Dr. Seuss and/or write like Shakespeare, you can say ‘I told you so’.”
“Does that mean you want me to start rhyming?”
“Please don’t rhyme, Eleanor.”
park
His heart fluttered again as he battled with himself not to skip home. They had had a conversation. He was crossing that off of his bucket list when he got home.
He felt like dancing. This was great. Nothing could be better than this.
Wait, should he have kissed her?
Of course he should have. The question was, could he have kissed her?
He probably could have. She may have even given him the signal, but he was too jittery to notice. And, of course, there was the fact that he was sort of in a relationship.
Oh fuck. Cat. He had totally forgotten about that. Whoops.
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Park & Eleanor
FanfictionHe was still drunk on her. So drunk on her, in fact, everything else seemed blurry compared to her. Every aspect of her still got to him in ways he couldn't quite capture. And although time had passed, and time is supposed to heal all wounds, he st...
