Fics like i tried to pick my battles (til the battle picked me)

Walking around to open the passenger side door, he wonders how long it will take for her to leave him. If she’d meet someone at orientation, she could break up with Ray by Christmastime. Someone funny and smart—someone focusing on accounting, or something. It gives him four months, he counts. Four months that feel heavy in his chest. He’ll take as much as he can have. ‘You look serious,’ Heather says as she takes his hand to get out of the car. Ray pulls her in until she’s flush against his body. She’s all his now, though, still, and he isn’t about to jeopardise any of that tonight. He follows the curve of her body with his hands, foreheads pressed together, like a blind man trying to feel what she looks like.

Fics like i tried to pick my battles (til the battle picked me)

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