A/N: This book is part of the Awkward Love Series. While you don't have to read the other installments to read this story, you should consider it anyways because it greatly enhances the experience!
How far could it take one? Was it desperate to attempt it? Was it a sign of weakness ... or self-empowerment? Marilyn Monroe was the definition of a balance between the two, promiscuity and power, as unstable as that definition might have been.
She threaded the line between classiness and the complete opposite, yet she somehow always kept her head up, brilliant smile present and confident smile on.
I lay down on my bed, turning to look at the other empty bed and sighing in annoyance. My roommate had taken a prolonged leave, leaving me here, all alone and bored out of my mind. Going to the gym sounded like a good idea, but my mind was still recovering from the lecture we'd received today in class.
Nobody had prepared me for these university classes or even explained to me just how difficult they would turn out to be in the end, just as nobody truly warned or advice people on the unreachable idea of love. The universe just threw us in and hoped we knew how to catch a boyfriend, a career, and a happy life.
Tiring as well, simply because the possibilities kept spiraling around in my head.
Therefore, I took out my phone, turning over onto my stomach and pulling up the story I'd been reading just last night. I'd accidentally stumbled upon the reading website while looking for some inappropriate fan-fictions regarding one sour-wolf and a scrawny flannel-wearing kid, somehow finding myself on that specific reading site and downloading the mobile application. That had been almost a year ago, and yet somehow I didn't get tired of reading the different stories.
It was a romance story laced with humor, one of my favorite kind, and had to do with an asshole who went by the name of Warren. He had these love interests, incredible lovers that all pined after him.
It was insane, but they seemed to all love him for some reason, regardless of how unrealistic that seemed.
I scrolled to the spot where I'd last stopped reading and opened the page, grinning to myself when I saw that Warren was really close to confessing his love for his best friend, the one he was supposed to end up with despite the author's inability to comprehend logic.
The idea behind the story was great, but the part that truly captured me was how he met people that were interested in him despite being himself. How did he even do it? He didn't seek love; it just found him. And boy did they remain interested, hovering around him like moths to a flame.
Even while he spent the entirety of the book too involved in his own personal plans and paid no attention to the love that was coming his way, he got love and more. Well, at least from where I was standing. I was still only half-way, but I'd already rolled my eyes so much with how much his love interested forgave his mistakes that it was becoming a problem.
I rolled over on the bed, sighing. How was it that a fictional character could get love, and I was struggling to find a one-night stand? I stood up, walking over to the mirror and staring at my own reflection. Then, I rubbed my cheeks, trying to see if perhaps I was growing wrinkles or something. No, nothing yet. I'd get them soon from all the stressing, but there didn't seem to be any yet.
YOU ARE READING
FLEETING LOVEGeneral Fiction
Wyatt Perry spent so long seeking love in all the wrong places and all the wrong ways. Apparently, being a promiscuous hormonal teenager willing to kiss any attractive face didn't guarantee a long-time boyfriend ... who knew? Life wasn't like the bo...