i walk into the room and i see you everywhere. i see you in the chair where you liked to read your spy novels and sip your tea. i see you by the window where you liked to watch the throngs of people move about slowly. i see you at the desk where you wrote me poems about the daring misadventures of your short-lived youth. i see you in the threshold where you would idly stand and watch me sleep. i see you on the bed where you told me i was what you wanted most in the world while holding my body close to yours. but i’m not actually seeing you; you’re not actually there. you’re gone, but at least i still have these memories of you in this room to keep the loneliness that took up residence in my empty heart company.
Betty is having a hard time with an anxiety disorder so Jug is really sweet, but sexual tension is still there. The story could maybe start as fluff then turn into full blown smut?