He woke up before me the next morning and, when I rolled over, I knew exactly why. My phone said it was nearing noon, but I saw the visual aura as I stared at it. My head was pounding, and the migraine was back with a vengeance. I groaned in pain before I stumbled to the bathroom and got a washcloth to drape over my eyes as I laid back down in bed.

I stayed like that for probably far too long.

“Time to walk—” I heard him from the doorway. “What the fuck is going on? What’s wrong, Honeybee?”

“Shhh.” I kept my eyes closed and tried to will away the pain. I needed to keep up my end of the bargain, and our walks around the neighborhood together were important. “Migraine again. I’ll sleep and then we can walk—’

“Damn it. All morning? I thought you were just sleeping in,” he murmured, and his voice was way too close, like he’d rushed over and was kneeling next to me, like he cared.

“It’s fine. I’m going to call my doctor soon and get things changed. I just need an hour and we can go—”

“We’re not going anywhere.” His tone was final. “I’ll get you Advil.” There was a pause. “Motrin? What do you need? How often do you get these, Olive?”

“It’s fine.” I winced though. “Just Motrin please.”

I heard his footsteps leave and come back. I heard the blinds of the bedroom being closed, the door being shut, and then he lifted the cloth from my eyes. He stood there with a look of concern that I wasn’t used to from him. “I got Motrin and water and an ice pack for your head.”

When I reached for the pills, he shook his head and held them out of reach. “Open your mouth.” He was so gentle as he placed them on my tongue and then lifted my head a tiny bit so I could drink the water from the glass. Then, he set it on the bedside table and disappeared into the bathroom to run cool water on the cloth again for me. “Close your eyes again.”

“Dimitri, I’m fine. I can take—”

“I’m taking care of you now. Please just let me.” He left no room for argument as he put the cloth back on my eyes and then the ice pack. I felt his side of the bed dip as he sat down next to me. Then, he pulled me into his lap so that my head could rest against his chest.

I fell asleep to his fingers massaging my temples.

He was becoming a good friend. One that I would miss, but shouldn’t. I dreamt of him and then woke to my headache gone, though he was too. I heard him rustling around in the kitchen.

I knew I had to thank him and tell him that what he’d done was completely unnecessary. It was more than that, it was unwarranted and shouldn’t be done in the future.

I padded out to the living area, still in my small shirt and shorts from the night before, ready to tell him how wonderful he’d been. Yet, I found him at the sink, frowning down at my birth control in his normal white collared shirt and slacks. He was reading the back of it with disgust on his face.

Then he was shaking his head and grumbling to himself.

“What are you doing?” I asked, tapping my foot on the ground waiting for his explanation.

“Your head feel better?” He threw the question my way, not answering mine.

“Much better.” I nodded.

“Good. Have you read all this?” He held up my pills, and I groaned before closing my eyes and rubbing them.

“Sure … at some point I did, or my doctor told me.” As I opened my eyes again, though, I saw him popping each of my pills into the sink.

“Dimitri! What are you doing?” I screeched, frozen in place from what I was seeing.

He looked up, his eyes completely determined as he dragged one thumb hard against the packaging. I heard them pop from the foil quickly one by one. A whole damn row of birth control. “Getting rid of these.”

“Are you stupid?” I yelled and rounded the island fast, trying to reach for the package but he held it out of reach and waved it in my face. “They’re gone already. All down the drain.”

He didn’t apologize. He didn’t look remorseful. Instead, he turned the garbage disposal on.

“You idiot! Those are stopping me from having a literal baby that I don’t want.”

“Interesting.” He leaned against the counter, like this was completely normal. “Why don’t you want a kid again?”

“You think we’re going to have a casual conversation right now?” I said, my eyes wide in shock as I felt my blood starting to boil. “Is this a joke? Of course I don’t want children! It’s why I’m on freaking birth control!”

“Well”—he tipped his head back and forth—“people get on it for a lot of reasons. My sister-in-law—”

“I do not care.” I stomped my foot, ready to shoot fire at him. “I do not want children, Dimitri.”

“Why?”

“What’s it to you?” I threw up my hands. “You just got rid of my birth control!”

“I did.” He nodded and meandered over to the plush white couch, not one ounce of him concerned. “They’re probably giving you migraines.”

“You … I …” I took a deep breath. We had to live together, we had to be nice. I didn’t need to lash out or overreact, I told myself. “I’m going to ask you to call my doctor tomorrow and tell them I need new birth control because of you.”

“Oh. I do want to talk to your doctor.” His misty green eyes were vibrant with an angry glow as they snapped to my direction. “I’m going to ask why the hell they’re giving you a drug that can intensify migraines and blood clots.”

“What?” That couldn’t be right.

“Says on the back of the packaging. You’re not taking that shit anymore.”

“Obviously. Since you put them down the drain. That was a complete overreaction, Dimitri,” I said, still in disbelief.

“Honeybee, I saw how much pain you were in. If someone causes that, you can expect a reaction more catastrophic than that in the future.”

I shook my head at him, not really knowing whether to be mad or think he was sweet for watching out for my health. “You realize that’s not the way to handle it? You can’t just do the first thing that pops into your—”

“I’ve never been a person who doesn’t weigh the risks, Olive. I knew what I was doing when I threw them down the drain.”

I placed a hand on my hip and popped it out then. “So, you’re willing to have me sleep around with no birth control?”

He got up from the couch, walked right up to me, and crossed his arms while towering over me. “You’re only sleeping with me.”

“Oh, please. Even if that’s the case, which it will not be”—he grumbled it would be, but I kept going—“what if we have a slip up? I’d be a terrible mother, and I don’t want children with—’

“Me?” He was waiting to finish that sentence for me. He even smiled then, like he’d truly thought about it, like he was a deranged psychopath. “I wasn’t joking when I said I wouldn’t mind having a kid with you, Honeybee. You’d stick around, we’d cause havoc in this little Paradise you call home, and I’d get to see you carrying what’s mine inside you.”

His gaze had grown hungrier and hungrier. “Dimitri, that’s … do you have some sort of freaking breeding kink or something?”

“I didn’t before. But I do now. With you. Only you.” The flutters in my stomach needed to stop.

“That’s absolutely not happening.”

“It’d be a damn good adventure, and if you took the chance, a really fun dance, Honeybee.”

“A good adventure for any guy?” My tone was rising. I felt myself losing control of my emotions again. “Because, technically, it could be any guy that I’m sleeping with!” I waved at the garbage disposal. “I could go out tomorrow and fuck someone and that could be—”

“You so much as look at another man and he contemplates fucking you, I’m going to kill him.”

“That’s not … You don’t get to decide who I sleep with.” I shoved his shoulder now.

“Yes. Actually, I do. I’m your boyfriend,” he said like it was a fact.

“Oh my God. Are you completely out of your mind?” My hands went to my curls to pull at them. “You helped me pick out guys to freaking date last night. You’re my fake boyfriend!” He hummed as if he wasn’t exactly agreeing to that anymore. “Don’t hum like you’re not sure about it. That’s what this is.” I motioned wildly between us.

“You’re very cute when you get worked up, Honeybee.” He leaned against the counter now, completely casual.

I walked up to him then and poked him hard in the chest. “I’m not just worked up, I’m pissed the hell off.”

He frowned. “You’re that mad?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I’m mad. Say what you did out loud. Think about it.”

“I got rid of your birth control.” He rubbed his jaw. “Well, okay. Saying it out loud does sound controlling, completely mad, even unhinged. Yet, I’m replaceing that I am all those things when it comes to you.”

“Well, I hope you feel like you made a great choice. Because now, when I go on a date with Mr. Perfect, you can think about how I’m not on birth control. And just so we’re clear, I won’t be sleeping with you at all.”

He shook his head and his muscles tensed. “Honeybee, good luck with that.”

Then, he walked out of the room and left me to think about our relationship for the rest of the day.

And while I was alone, my phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Perfect.

Mr. Perfect: I like the flower in your hair in that picture.

Me: I’d say I like something in your photo if you had one, Mr. Perfect.

Mr. Perfect: Well, Flower Girl, sooner or later.

Me: Why don’t you work on updating that pic while I work on my thesis.

Mr. Perfect: What’s the topic? Maybe I can help?

Me: The nuances of a small community, how it can affect those in it. It goes hand in hand with my job this summer.

Mr. Perfect: What’s your job this summer?

Me: Essentially getting information for a client about a community.

Mr. Perfect: Interesting. That all?

I didn’t get that question. Was he saying I should be doing more? I narrowed my eyes and put the phone down.

It wasn’t all I was doing. Instead, I was faking a long-term relationship with Dimitri. Well, technically I hadn’t faked a damn thing the other night. I sighed and checked my email to see when the mattress and desk would be here.

They’d been delayed. But only a couple more days.

That was for the best. Sleeping next to him proved to be detrimental to the platonic part of our friendship. His outrageous behavior was blurred by our close proximity, and I was replaceing myself considering it, which probably made me even more outrageous.

That night, I went to bed early without telling him I was. I didn’t have a thing to say to him. Our relationship was murky already.

Still, though, I felt him tuck me in like he always did and murmur, “Good night, Olive.” And then he pulled me close and snuggled me. I didn’t roll away. I slept soundly because of it instead.

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