Would You Doves Be Interested In Me Writing More Chapters For Sinclair?

Sinclair

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Henry Winter, the cold hearted man who shot himself in the head to save his friends. Died a hero or lived a murderer? The city of romance, lust and wealth might have the answer and answer is called Odette Laurent. Betrothed to the son of her father’s awfully wealthy friend.

Prologue

Chapter One

what about makeup sex with henry after a big fight hehe

love u

Merry Christmas, my dearest doves! Love you xx <3

I hope you will like my present:)

Odium

It was already bad timing for them to fight. It was the end of the semester, summer was right around the curb.

All the members of the greek class were together in Francis’ estate, it was easier if anyone had troubles with all of their work. But, that also meant that everyone was on fire, and not in a good way.

The twins were mainly calm and minding their own business, Francis just drank the second he felt an ounce of stress and dragged Richard with him to be a borderline alcoholic. Bunny was the main problem, he was irritating the shit out of everyone, especially Henry and Y/N.

It was obvious that Bunny had a thing for Y/N, it was an ignored open secret for everyone.

But one night, Bunny had drank a bit too much, unfortunately for Henry. Henry was trying to do his work in the library, but Bunny had different plans for him. He plopped down onto the armchair in front of Henry and made himself comfortable.

He just kept on talking, talking and talking. After an hour of his constant yapping, which Henry ignored of course, there was a bit of silence. Until there wasn’t…

Y/N went to sleep hours ago, but she just couldn’t get comfortable, and she felt like she was just not warm enough. She needed Henry’s big and warm body to fall asleep, so she made her way down to the library.

She had heard his distant voice, it made her stop in her tracks. Bunny was talking, and about her. His tone was fuming, and she could just see his angered red face, he must have drunk a whole bottle. She never heard his slurring this much, he wasn’t in his right mind, he will probably forget everything in the morning.

She stayed at the corner and just listened, what a mistake.

“Do you know what I don’t understand, Henry?” He huffed like a small child “You have her all to yourself, and you can’t even fucking cherish it, you fucking bastard!” He was hitting the arm of the chair in frustration “You just show her around, I bet you don’t even love her.” Her heart ached at the words of Bunny, but more at Henry’s silence. She didn’t need to hear her name to know that she was the topic.

“But let me tell you, old chap, if she was mine… Man, how I would love her. And not just her, but that body…” she clenched her fist and jaw, her heart dropped. “I would grab her hair and have those lips around my cock. I would knead and suck those tits all fucking night.” She could hear him creeping closer to Henry “And of course, I would fuck her sweet pu—“

She had turned on her heels and ran back to her room, she heard enough. And it angered her that Henry couldn’t stand up for her. Did he really just wanted to show her off? Without actually loving her? She knew she was beautiful, beautiful like the sun on a cold winter day. But, no, Henry loved her, he showed her multiple times and he really cherished her. Then why didn’t he fucking say something?

She needed space, she knew he would come looking for her. So, she took her bag out and threw in whatever clothing of hers she could find, she even put in a shirt of Henry’s. She may have been angry at him but he was the love of her life. She creeped into Francis’s room, and woke him up lightly, he looked confused and scared that something bad had happened.

“Y-Y/N? What is it? Is something wrong?” He sat up in bed, the moon rested on his pale freckled chest.

“No, no. I just—I have to leave, I must go home. Can I take your car?” He immediately understood that it was something to do with Henry. So, he nodded and gave her the keys. “Please, don’t say anything to Henry…”

“Of course not, my sweet.” He hugged her gently, and felt her shed a few tears on his neck, so he just let her stay like that for a couple of minutes, stroking her hair until she pulled away.

She shed many tears while driving back to her place, and when she plopped down on her bed, she cried even more.

She doesn’t remember when she had fallen asleep, but she woke up with Henry kneeling beside the bed, smoothing her hair softly. The second she recognized the familiar touch she melted into it. Then, she remembered the whole reason she fell asleep alone in her own bed, so she pulled away.

His brows furrowed as he looked at her in confusion.

“Why did you leave, my doe? What’s wrong? Do tell.”

The tears began to stream. “I heard you… In the library.” She sensed that he tensed up “I heard how Bunny was talking about me, but I didn’t hear you saying anything.” She barely whispered out, the knot in her throat nearly choking her words down.

She finally looked him in the eye, she was surprised to see the slight smile on his face. Why was he smiling?

He chuckled warmly and held her teary face in both of his big hands. “Oh, my girl. I wish you hadn’t left so early, otherwise you could have seen the bruise on Edmund’s cheek.” He sat up beside her on the bed and hugged her deeply, she immediately wrapped herself around his much bigger frame “I would never let anyone talk like that about my lovely baby. She is only for me, no one else can touch her like I do. And he was right in certain parts.” His kisses migrated down to her jaw.

“W-what?” He was hitching closer to her sweetest spot.

“I do love to show you off.” He sucked at her neck and she felt the warmth in her tummy. “I love how everyone envies me, because I have the most beautiful girl to myself.” His lips wandered to her cleavage, his hands slipped under her thin nightgown, slowly pushing it over her head. As he talked, he gently pushed her down on her back. “Mine to love, to hold, to kiss…” he slowly kissed down her body, stopping at her chest to give some attention to her perky breasts, which he got rewarded for with breathy moans. He kneeled down on the floor, pulling her hips to the edge of her bed. His arms wrapped around her soft thighs, which he kissed all over, and he bit the lower part of her tummy. “All mine to pleasure, to worship, to fuck.” He dived in and ate her out as if his life depended on it, he needed to make it up for her.

She loved when he ate her out, he was so good at it, but she needed him now, she needed him bad. She was already horny when she went down to the library, so she was eager to get him inside her. Henry and her were probably the least stressed out of the whole greek class, they fucked all of their stress away. She grabbed his hair and pulled him up from her heat, which Henry replied to with a whine, nobody likes to be pulled away from a good and warm cunt.

“I-I need you, Henry, I want you inside.” She pushed his shirt off of his muscular chest after pulling him down to her naked body.

He stood up from the ground and undressed quickly, his member was already standing hard and proudly against his stomach.

He laid down beside her. “Come one, doe, use me as you’d like.” She was hypnotised by him, she crawled on top of him and grinded down on his firm dick. He groaned when he felt her wet folds wrapping around him, he easily could have cummed just from her grinding. “Put me inside, dearest, let me feel you completely.”

That did it, she positioned him at her entrance, and sunk down on him. She fell down on him and began riding him while embracing him.

This was his heaven, being inside his girl, while being in her welcoming arms. His hands were caressing the back of her head. She straightened her back and gave him a sight for sore eyes. He felt himself pulse within her from the show she gave him, her soft hips moving precisely, her beautiful round tits bouncing from her moves, her hair messy from his touch. She radiated sex from her, and she was his sex goddess.

After a while, her moving got uncoordinated, so he sat up and fucked up into her. He pounded right up into her sweet spot, she moaned loudly and she fisted his hair from the pleasure. His mouth latched on one of her breasts and he began sucking and licking on her nipple.

“I’m close, just, oh! Don’t stop!” His fingers started rubbing her clit, and he felt her clenching around him.

“Go on, give it to me!” She came on him and that pushed him over the edge. His thick cum flooded her cunt.

“Oh, I love the feeling of you filling me up. Mm, so warm.” She nuzzled her face into his neck, and he caressed her skin all over.

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth. “I would never let anyone speak bad about you, my love.”

Her eyes closed slowly, the sex tiring her out. “I know, I should have stayed a bit longer, m’sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kissed her lovingly “I understand, the next time someone dares to put a bad word next to your name, I will punch them that second.”

She laughed loudly, causing to laugh too. “How did you get even with punching him?”

“He was so drunk, so Richard just convinced him that he tripped and fell down the stairs. He even acts like his ribs are broken and he is whining all day, he even whined for Camilla to put ice on his arms.”

So, he made up with her. He took her out for breakfast, and just gave her love all day.

When are new fanfics coming? 🤓

Now:))

I have insomnia, so when the night comes I think about every small thing in tsh

So now, I will tell you how certain characters smell like in my mind:

•Henry Winter: he smells strongly of coffee and cigarettes, in a good dark academia way. Also, tobacco vanille, if you know the scent you know that I am right. And books, that good bookish smell, my man has books glued to him.

•Francis Abernathy: I believe he smells really clean, I feel like he has a flower scented soap, so he smells like soap and flowers. And also cigarettes, still in a good way.

•Camilla Macauley: my girl is a walking vanilla candle, also hyacinth (as Richard mentioned). I feel like she is the kind of person who lives for scented candles and always lights one. So her clothes pick up the scents of the candles.

•Charles Macauley: soap, just the basic soap. And probably alcohol, but I love him in the first part, so because he lives with Camilla, he would also smell a bit like candles.

•Richard Papen: that signature aftershave scent, and probably a cheap perfume, but one of the good kind. And he doesn’t put on too much, he would definitely judge someone who does.

•Bunny Corcoran: Richard once said that he can’t think of Bunny as an erotic person, he reminds him of “sour smelling t-shirts” (ew). So I feel like he would smell like dirty laundry. He would not smell bad, but he would not smell divine either.

If you think any different, let me know!

xoxo, Rosemary

I feel like we don’t talk about this moment enough.

LIKE TINY-TINY BABY (a grown cold manipulative man over six feet with broad shoulders) WAS HUNGRY:c

Imagine him just eating his little soup and pie🤏 (and Richard with his little omelet is also adorable)

My man needed a full few course meal to confess a murder

I love him.

Chapter One

The first proper chapter!

As you could already see, this story plays in a different time, so don’t get upset at what the characters say or do.

Please please please tell me your opinions on it and most importantly, enjoy:)

warnings: mentions of murder, death faking, classic Henry Winter behaviour

summary: Henry is on his way to his new home and he reflects on the last couple of weeks.

word count: 2k

Prologue to this fanfiction

1948

He was a free man now, but at the same time he wasn’t.

At least the restless nights were over, he didn’t have to worry about the police coming any second to bust his door down and arrest him. Even though deep down he knew that his father would shoot anyone who dares to lay a hand on his son. But, the freedom he was always destined to live came with a price. He had to sooner or later, so it didn’t really matter anymore. He had his Hampden years as only his, as a brand new person, but after he should have graduated he was supposed to get back where he really belongs. He didn’t need a diploma, when you’re the son of one of the wealthiest and powerful man in the world, you need anything but a stupid diploma. He went there, purely because he wanted to. He wanted to be someone else for a while, he wanted to study languages and adore literature, art. He was lucky to find the people he called his friends, well, some of them were a burden. Bunny Corcoran made himself a burden and Charles Macaulay was born a burden. But Francis Abernathy and Richard Papen were good men with no bad intentions and he liked having them around. And then there was his little love, Camilla, he believes that he loves her, but then again he has absolutely no clue what love is, but his feelings for Camilla were the closests things to it. However, if he loved her, why did he leave her so easily? Wasn’t it supposed to be a hard choice choosing between her or his powerful freedom? The answer doesn’t even matter anymore, nothing that happened in those years and few months matters anymore. Things happened the way they happened and it is time for new beginnings. He was a brand new man, the one he was always supposed to be and the one he left behind is dead, at least to everyone else.

He stared out the window of his family’s private plane. His cigarette dangling from his lips mirrored his father, who sat in front of him, also with a burning cigarette between his lips. He was his father’s twin, the same pale skin, same big height and the same raven dark hair, but he got his bright eyes from his dear mother.

The stewardess, who was also the family’s maid, came in with a tray, two crystal glasses and a bottle of fine scotch. The silver haired woman poured both of them an inch.

“Laura, dear.” Henry’s father said “the boy had a hard time, don’t shy away with the scotch.”

“Yes, Mr.Sinclair.” She said as she poured a few more inches.

When she left the lounge of the plane, Henry reached forward and downed down his drink in one go, his father immediately went to pour him more. He was a ruthless and powerful man, so was his wife, Mrs.Sinclair. But they adored their only child and son, they did what they did not only to carry on their family’s name and reputation, but to give their son everything he could ever want. However, this life came with sacrifices, he would learn that soon enough.

“Look at me, son.” Mr.Sinclair said in a firm tone, so he did. “I know how hard this must be, I understand. Me and your mother will give you time to heal, but that comes with accepting what you have to do. You are the heir who will keep up the magnificent Sinclair name, you will get into business and you will do your duty with honor, like a good man.”

Henry nods slowly and takes a long drag from his cigarette. “I know, father. I had my fun and now it is time.”

“Very well, my son.” He suddenly snickered to himself. “Two murders, huh? Your heritage cannot be denied. However the ancient sex ritual was a new addition.”

Oh yes, when the events in Hampden heightened Henry went home for a weekend and told his parents everything, every single detail. With a life like theirs, there are not many things that can suprise them. They listened to everything and came up with a solution and a perfect plan that suggests a fake tragedy. It took careful and perfect planning.

He needed someone to snap, his first subject would have been Richard, but then Camilla called him in the middle of the night when Charles had hurt her. This version of the plan was better, he would provoke Charles until he did something stupid, he drove up to Francis’s country house on one weekend and put Francis’s aunts beretta in Charles’s room. He left the door open at the inn’s room and waited for Charles to come. The beretta had 2 bullets and the third would be a fake one that had piglet blood in it. He also gave a bit of drug to everyone without them noticing, he hid a bottle of whisky in Charles’s room with drugs mixed in it. Then the second Richard told him that he is there at the estate and drunk, he knew that the plan was on. He ordered room service and wine, when Camilla went to freshen up, he also put the drugs in her glass of wine. He hoped that Francis and Richard would show up desperate and shaken up, when they did he was pleased that they took big gulps from Camilla’s glass of wine, he needed everyone’s mind fuzzy. He paid attention to their body language that got more slumped by the minute. When Charles busted in the door, it was game time. He was confident, he was a Sinclair for fuck’s sake, he knew self defense like no one and he had reflexes as sharp as a knife, Charles was no competition. The first gunshot to the window and the second to poor Richard’s stomach, he held the gun in his hands now. There were heavy knocks on the door, it was time. He pulled the trigger, he felt the fake bullet hit his temple and explode with the pig blood, he dropped to the floor and tried to stay as still as he could. The others were too shocked and their heads fuzzy. He smiled smugly to himself when he felt the blanket on him, bless Francis. His father’s men came acting like the police and took him out of there, straight to the private plane.

“You will get over it.” His father interrupted his train of thought. “But, you have to know one thing and keep it in your head, always.”

“What is it?” He was desperate for some good advice.

“Henry Winter is dead, it is time for you to be who you really are supposed to be. Henry Sinclair.”

Henry smiled at that, he would never say it out loud but he felt better being Henry Sinclair, his true self.

Henry Winter was someone he used for his Hampden years, Winter was his mother’s maiden name and he put it to good use. He didn’t need anyone recognizing the Sinclair name.However, there was one thing he never planned. Falling in love with a certain twin blonde girl, if this meant falling in love, he wasn’t sure. He felt protective over her, wanted to protect her as long as he could. But how could he lay beside her at night knowing that he was going to leave her? He didn’t mean to hurt her, she was better off without him and Charles, he just hoped he stayed away from her.

His mother joined them in the lounge, as he walked beside her son she caressed his dark hair and she sat beside her husband.

“It will get easier, honey. I know your heart aches for that blonde girl twin, she will get over it too. Just like your friends. What matters is that the plan went perfectly, and now we have you here with us.”

She threw back a few inches of her husband’s scotch and smiled at her family.

“Paris will wash all your troubles away. You will see the wonderful business of our family, get to know some new friends, join us to magnificent balls and parties.” She smirked at him slyly, he knew that smile of hers, he knew what was coming. “And who knows? You might meet a nice sweetheart and hold her close to your heart.”

“Paris does show you true love, son.” His father says and puts his hands on his mother’s, his fingertips touching her wedding band.

“Yeah, sure. I am fine by myself, thank you.” Henry rolled his eyes, the scotch in his head brought out his attitude. His parents shared a knowing look.

There was a heavy silence now, all three of them lost in their own thoughts. Until Laura, their maid, came in and informed them of their schedule.

“The pilot just announced that the plane will land in an hour, a driver will be waiting at the airport and he will be taking you to your apartment.”

“Actually, Laura,” said Mr.Sinclair. “Henry will be taken to his own apartment.” He wrote an address on a piece of paper and gave it to the maid. “Get another driver and give him the address. Thank you, Laura.”

The maid left and Henry gave a peek to his parents who were already looking at him with smug smiles.

“Thank you, father, mother.” He really was grateful, what he needed was his own space, alone with his thoughts. All he wanted was to finally sleep some and then have some good old silence. Which he could never have, his head and brain were always running and thinking. He needed a good book to concentrate on, or maybe if he emptied his mind down to his diary, he could feel relieved. Or perhaps, if only he had Camilla by his side, he could put his stress somewhere else… Whatever, he should just get himself together and flip the page.

“You will feel much better when we arrive.” Mrs.Sinclair stood up and started to leave the lounge. “I will sort the luggages for the landing.” And with that, she left. Leaving father and son, alone.

“There is more to life than books and ancient languages, Henry. Until you settle down, there are always good ways to cope with stress. Like… Beautiful women, eager to please.” Here we go…

“You kn—“ he tried interrupting.

“I know, I know. Not my business, you have your own private life and I know it. But, so you know. The building we own, where you will live in the apartment, has a little section for pleasure. If you want anything or anyone, pick up the phone and you shall have it. So you know.”

“Alright. I will think about it.” He won’t.

Don’t you get him wrong, he liked to have sex. He liked being inside of a woman, feeling her warmth everywhere and holding her close. He liked seeing pleasure consume her body and seeing it on her face. While he was in Hampden he always found a nice girl to fuck, he didn’t use women, he gave them all the pleasure they could want and he put their pleasure in front of his, always. But he was dead to the one woman he felt really hungry for, some whore or anyone for that matter will not do the job. Right now, he just wanted to get to the place he will call his home and rest for a while.

But for now, he can at least close his eyes knowing that Henry Winter is dead, he can now focus on one thing and one thing only.

Being his true self, Henry Sinclair.

hi dear

honestly LOVE the way you write

tbh i need me a henry

Thank youu, to think that my writing is entertaining to people means the world to me:)

Tbh SAME

Prologue

Hello, my darling doves

Suprise! The fanfiction began.

Before you dig into it… Yes, it is in a different timeline than the actual book, and not all things are same as in the book, but you will find out eventually:)

I hope you will like it and I’m always open to hear your opinions on it!

xoxo, Rosemary<3

warnings: none:) maybe alcohol use, but this is tsh so nobody really cares

summary: just some warming up

word count: 1.3k

Richard Papen, 1953

Some nights, I am still at that hotel. We all are. Charles with a gun in his hand, Camilla sobbing, Francis and I frozen, and Henry… Nearly smiling at the gun. The next events happened barely in a mere second. The screaming, the gunshots, the warm feeling in my stomach, the red wine and blood splashing. Henry lay dead on the floor, his pale face covered in blood. He was pronounced dead on the scene when the police arrived, while they were on their way Francis put a blanket on him, I don’t remember those moments very well. I only remember the blood on his face and his closed eyes. Francis was the only one who attended the funeral, I would have gone with him to Missouri, where he was getting buried, but I was laying in the hospital with a gunshot.

I never saw the twins ever again. Charles ran away and Camilla went silent. We nearly couldn’t care less about Charles after what he had done, but Camilla was a hard pill to swallow.

Me and Francis tried everything we could for a good while, brought her to the best psychiatrist, and we stayed with her patiently. Until she finally spoke to us again. But only a few words, she kindly asked us to leave her alone to deal with her grief, Henry or Charles, we never knew. We understood and left her alone like she asked. We tried our best to get our friend back and figured that she would contact us if she wanted to.

—

Me and Francis kept in touch over the years, calls and visits were engraved in our daily routines. He visited me in Chicago and I visited him in Boston. I analyzed literature and sometimes gave lessons in big named schools. Francis wrote detective books, he started writing them as a distraction and they blew up, people loved him. In the end, both of us were steady on our feet. I wasn’t in possession of a family fortune, but I became a bit wealthy myself.

However, there was one name we never dared to speak. Until today.

We were at Francis’s huge apartment, on the couch, whiskey in hand. We already drank a bottle of Irish whiskey. Suddenly he laughed to himself in a drunken manner. “What is it?” I laughed to myself too at his odd manner, the whiskey really managed to get in my head, I felt dizzy and floaty.

His laughing slowly went away and he stared at the maroon wall dreamily. “You know what I think about sometimes?” He looked at me with a sly foxy smile. “What if Henry never died?” I suddenly sat up and a little part of me was relieved that he said Henry’s name, he might have been drunk out of his mind but still. He knew Henry for a longer time than I did and his death was harder for him, he is also a sensitive fellow so that was not the greatest mix. I started snickering at his foolish question, but I stopped it when I saw his serious face, he was lost in thought.

“Francis? Where did this come from? We both watched him fall to the floor.” I tried studying his face, he wouldn’t look in my eyes.

“I know, I know. But those parts are so blurry, I barely remember how we got out of there. What do you remember from it?” He finally looked at me.

“Oh yeah, I remember every single little detail that happened. Especially the gunshot wound in my stomach and the blood oozing out of it!” He angered me a bit, the alcohol made the moment more dramatic than it actually was.

“Okay, I see your point…” He bit his lip, as if he was in distress. “What if he didn’t actually die? That was the last time we saw him and we got ushered out so quickly that we didn’t even register what hap—“

“Aren’t you a detective murder mystery writing novelist? Your mind is more creative day by day.” I point to his shelf, where he displayed the awards his books and stories won, in a joking manner. He was really good at what he was doing, no wonder everyone always begged for the new novel of his, even my students who I eventually taught from time to time.

He was not laughing, not appreciating my joke. I could see it in his eyes that he really was thinking. “Richard, have you ever seen him after that?”

“Weren’t you the one who sat through his whole funeral?!”

“It was a closed casket.” He shrugged.

“Closed casket?” I straightened up at the new information. “Didn’t he always say that he was going to have an open casket funeral?”

Francis’s eyes widened. “He did, because he wanted people to really see that all of us end up in the same way.” It was silent for a few minutes, until Francis turned to me. “Richard, if he could write his car to your name, then he could have had an open casket funeral. He wrote what he wanted for it when he was like sixteen, and the way he was looking at the gun?” We turned more serious by the second.

“Maybe he had a closed casket to spare Camilla?” I brought up my only explanation, but even I barely believed it.

“Camilla is not as weak as you think, and Henry was or is not that soft to change what he always believed in for a girl.” My biggest problem was that he actually made some sense, there was something about what he had said.

“So, let me get this straight. Henry may be alive and we didn’t think of this for five years?” I scoffed and turned to Francis. I put my hands on both of his shoulders and sighed deeply, as if I was a father who is about to tell a life lesson to his child. “Look Francis, I know that this Henry being alive and well alternative is way more sweeter, but it is not the truth and not the one we live in.”

“I know, but what if—“ He tried to interrupt me.

“No, no more what if’s… Henry is dead. We watched him shoot himself in the head and drop to the floor. You sat through his funeral, closed casket or not, he was in there. He is gone, Francis. Fuck… I wish he wasn’t, I wish we found a better way to deal with everything going on without anyone dying. I wish that Charles never came in with a gun in hand…” He had tears in his eyes from my little speech, maybe I did too, but I needed him to open up his eyes and see our sad truth.

He smiled sadly, a fat tear running down his freckled cheek. “I wish for anything that could have kept our group together…” he said as he stared into the crunching fire in the fireplace. I believe that in that moment he tried really hard for the first time to accept what we came to.

“We’re here now. Maybe up there, Bunny could give that goddamn slap back to Henry and even bang him in the head with his stupid latin diary.” I nudged his shoulder, trying to ease the tension. What I didn’t expect was a proper laugh from him. Half a genuine laugh, half a grieving sob.

“Yeah, you’re right… Thank you, Richard. For everything.” He lifted his glass and we clicked them together.

“To new beginnings.”

“To new fucking beginnings.”

I was scrolling through Pinterest, just now

And I saw this-

THIS IS MY IDEA OF Y/N AND CAMILLA—

I need a cigarette, I cannot handle this:)

Forgive me, I don’t know who drew this beauty or where is it from. But all credits to the artist c:

Wasn’t sure about this one, but I also have to feed my doves some content:)

My kind of Picturesque:

Richard Papen’s point of view:

Growing up poor gives people certain habits, some better, some worse.

I was so used to mine that I couldn’t even decide which one it was categorised into.

Ever since I could think, I always found myself longing. After everything I didn’t have or never could have. Expensive items, designer clothes, being an orphan and certain people.

I always found myself wishing I was someone else, someone classy and rich, like Francis Abernathy or Henry Winter, smart minds and big bank accounts.

There was one exception where I didn’t want to be a certain person, but longing to be with one. With her.

Sure, I always found certain people attractive or nice, and I even wished about being with them, but longing is a whole different thing. Longing consumes your mind and keeps you up at nights, daydreaming and lost in fantasies.

She lived in the dorm next to mine, I found that out the very first day I arrived at Hampden. I was in a rush to the office to deliver some papers and I forgot it in my dorm room, my head and thoughts were messy from being tired and just straight up nervous. I didn’t even notice that the room I barged to wasn’t mine.

That is when I first saw her, I stopped in my tracks and let out a loud gasp, she was dressing when I accidentally barged in.

I have never seen such perfection before, she was only wearing black cotton underwear, her chest area was completely bare for my wandering eyes to see. At first she looked like a deer in the headlights, then she began to smile slyly. “Howdy, neighbour?”

She was completely unbothered by the fact that her breasts were completely out.

“I-I’m sorry…” I said and I slammed the door shut.

In the office I couldn’t focus on anything and everyone had to repeat everything they said to me multiple times.

I always had trouble sleeping, but that night I found myself in a deep long sleep. I suppose masturbating all night tired me out, but I just couldn’t help myself. Her naked body was on my mind every second. The thought that she was in the room beside me aroused me even more. I fantasised that she was also doing the same thing I was, touching herself, maybe even thinking of me like I was thinking of her. Maybe she was groping her own breasts, those beautiful and tender, soft pink nippled breasts. I wanted to touch her, feel her and get a taste of her so bad, to run my hand along her soft stomach and bury my head between her thighs. I imagined her being so desperate for pleasure that she came knocking on my door, that didn’t happen.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of her voice. Not in the way I would have preferred, but it was her voice nonetheless. “Stupid motherfucking shoe!” That I heard after a thud.

My still dazed thinking from my sleep made me bolt out of bed and make my way to her room. To apologize to her for what happened the day before, and mostly to just get a chance to see and talk to her.

I knocked on her door and she opened it seconds later. She was getting ready. Her hair was a big mess, her pretty face had makeup on, she was wearing a raggedy old band t-shirt and some kind of shorts. She flashed me a toothy grin. “Morning, neighbour!” She turned on her heel and the door opened wider for me to step inside.

“Morning.” I felt somewhat awkward but she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Did I wake you up? I am terribly sorry about it, it’s just that I was looking for something on the top of my wardrobe and a shoe fell right on my head.” She said while rummaging through her closet.

“No, you didn’t, don’t even mention it…” I leaned against her door frame with my arms crossed, I didn’t know how to hold them without being awkward. “Listen…?”

“Y/n, y/l/n.” She said as she threw herself down on her chair. “Carry on, Richard.” She began styling her hair.

“Y/n, right.” I was flattered that she knew my name already, her name tasted like honey on my tongue. “So, about yesterday… I am terribly sorry for barging in like that, I really thought it was my room, sorry.”

“Oh, please, it’s all good, don’t even mention it. I didn’t make you too uncomfortable did I?” She turned towards me with a foxy grin.

Her gaze made me nervous, I could feel the blush creeping up my neck. “N-no, I-, no of course not! Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.” She stood up and came to me. “Wanna get breakfast?” She put her hand on her hip. I was beaming on the inside from her offer, it was one I could not decline for anything.

“Yeah, sure.”

She giggled excitedly. “Good, meet me in front of your door in half an hour, is that enough for you?”

“Of course, see you then, I guess.”

I turned on my heel and hurried back to my room. I barely found an outfit that was casual and didn’t reveal that I was trying to impress her. I brushed my teeth and got myself together. Half an hour later she was knocking on my door.

She was wearing a lace trimmed top and skirts, and what surprised me was that she was wearing cowboy boots. She looked absolutely beautiful.

We talked and talked at breakfast, she was the best company I ever had.

We have been friends ever since then.

We used to go over to each other’s rooms a lot, to talk, to borrow things, anything really. The more I saw her, the more I fell in love with her. She was everything. She loved golden age Hollywood, fashion and diet coke, there was always one or two can of them in her bag. She was also awfully fond of cowboy boots, had one of them in nearly every colour. It turned out that the day she woke me up with her cursing, it was a cowboy boot that fell onto her head.

Her and Judy were really good friends too, us three even did coke in a burger king parking lot one time.

Everyone liked her, to my biggest surprise, even the Greek class liked her. Everybody knew her, her wild hair and cowboy booted outfits.

Bunny always said what a fun chick she was. Henry never really said anything, but he always checked her out when she went by us. Camilla and Francis adored her.

There was one time I remember so vividly. Me, Camilla and Francis attended one of those college parties before going down to the country house. We had quite a few drinks and suddenly while we were talking in a quieter place, trying to sober up a bit before hitting the road, Francis’s eyes went wide and his face paled. We panicked that he was sick, but he just pointed his finger behind us. We were in the same state of shock moments later when we saw Judy and y/n making out wildly at the wall.

We might have been perverts for this but we watched it all. They kept on switching places and pushing the other up the wall in passion. Judy was in a skirt and a colourful blouse, while y/n had a black mini dress on, usual to herself she wore brown cowboy boots and even a hat, she was so sexy.

They gripped each other’s hair, Judy pushed her against the wall while kissing her neck, her chanel red nailed hands found their way under her dress and there was no sugarcoating what she was doing to y/n, nor there was no sugarcoating in the noises she was letting out, Judy was whispering in her ear and occasionally it made her moan.

Minutes later, they switched places again, y/n got on her knees and buried her head under Poovey’s skirt.

We watched her go down on her and based on Judy’s reaction, she was very good at it.

When she finished, she wiped her mouth seductively and kissed her one last time before dragging her back to the party.

This made the three of us sober up properly, and even aroused. We went to the car and didn’t say a word on the road, we didn’t need to, our body language told everything. Me and Francis trying to hide our excitement and Camilla blushing and fidgeting made it obvious that she was in no different state than we were.

When we arrived, we found Henry in the library, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of us. “Did something happen?”

The three of us needed another drink after that, we told Henry all we saw and he just kept his set face. “Interesting.” That was all he said.

“Sooo… she likes girls?” Said Francis after a somewhat comfortable pause. He looked at me, studying my expressions, he knew that I was fond of her. I wanted her every second, I knew that my chances with her were near zero, but this could make it a proper zero.

“She can like men, too. She’s young and wild, this doesn’t define her.” I was awfully surprised as Henry said this.

Later on I found out why Henry knew that she was attracted to men.

While in Hampden, they hooked up occasionally. They weren’t in a relationship, I don’t even know to this day how it started out. I was mad at Henry at first, that he got to touch and feel her, but it’s not like I made big efforts to get her. I always thought that she would come to me, she never did.

At the beginning of our last year of college, she got discovered. It turned out that she was a talented actress and a big director from Hollywood noticed it. She always had a certain sparkle to her, as well as timeless beauty. Her name was placed on billboards and movie credits.

Nonetheless, she finished her studies at Hampden, like she wasn’t one of the brightest actress of our generation. She was the same person, the wild haired cowboy booted girl next door. It was like nothing had changed.

When we graduated, I fell out of touch with everyone, except Francis, who I exchanged letters with from time to time. I had one last breakfast with her, we talked and had an emotional goodbye. I tried to hold my tears back while hugging her with all my might. I didn’t know at the time the secret she was carrying.

Many, many years later, I moved to New York, mostly for the job I got at a university, and in the city I could also keep an eye out for Francis, who was mostly bored all the time. Y/n really made a name for herself, she kept her life private mostly, so I didn’t know where she was or what she was up to these days.

One day while I was on my way to the university I was teaching at, I ran into Henry. It was refreshing to see him, we chatted for a while and he invited me over to dinner in his apartment.

I was glad that I could catch up with him, I didn’t expect that it wouldn’t be only the two of us at dinner, the discovery still makes my stomach knot.

I arrived and Henry greeted me, he lived in a huge apartment that was packed in antique furniture. Suddenly, two little boys in suits came to say hi. Claude and Vincent Winter were their names. They looked identical to Henry, pale skin, icy blue eyes and dark raven hair. They were well mannered smart children.

I was about to ask if he had a wife or something while we were sitting on the couch, sipping whiskey, until a little girl waddled out in her little pink dress. It made me smile, Henry being a father to twin boys and a little girl. At first she had her back to me, she sat in her father’s lap and nuzzled herself close to him. Until Henry gently cooed to her that it was impolite to not greet their guest.

When she turned her head, my breath got stuck in my throat. She was the perfect copy of the girl that lived next door to me. Her hair long and her eyes big. She smiled at me. “Good evening, mister.” I could only nod in my shocked state.

Henry stroked her hair gently. “Go get Mama, would you?” She catapulted out of his lap to do as she was told.

“You have three children?!” I downed my whiskey down in one swallow.

“I do, yes. That was Heidi.”

“When a-and how?” I stammered out.

“Well, Richard, I don’t think I have to explain the process of reproduction.” He gave a little chuckle.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. Do you have a wife?”

He didn’t answer, he just looked to the side and smiled. I heard her before I saw her. “Howdy, neighbour.” My heart nearly stopped, I turned my head so fast in her direction that it was a miracle that I didn’t break my neck. She looked more mature and more like a mother, but still the biggest beauty I’ve seen. There were still some girlish features on her. Her once wild hair was cut off, now she had hair like Marilyn Monroe, it suited her.

She sat down next to Henry and leaned into his touch, her left hand was caressing his that was wrapped around her waist, a golden ring on both. It was no mystery, they were married and the three little clones were from her.

“Hold on a second, how old are your children?” That was the first thing I said after I told y/n that she looked good.

“Vincent and Claude are six, Heidi is three.”

We last saw each other in Hampden, six years ago.

“You were pregnant when we graduated, weren’t you?” I put the pieces together in my head. She smiled and nodded. I tilted my head for further explanation.

They did explain it all to me. While in Hampden, they hooked up occasionally, even after she got famous, nothing serious. Senior year it was, when in spring it turned out that y/n fell pregnant with Henry’s baby. She had no idea what to do, but Henry was there for her and he helped her make her choice, to keep his baby. He took her out, gave her gifts and cared for her. They fell in love, they married in the summer of our graduation and they kept it a secret. Y/n was in a big movie while her pregnancy wasn’t showing, and after it she took a break from Hollywood. They ran away to a little Italian villa and y/n gave birth to twin boys in Italy.

We sat down to dinner, and while I was awfully mad at them at first, I noticed how meant to be they were.

She suddenly spoke up. “Richard?” She snapped me out of my haze. “Remember our last breakfast together, on June 16th?”

“How could I ever forget?” I could never.

“Well, that is the day I realized I was having twins. When I hugged you I felt my bump against you, and I was convinced that you felt it too.” She giggled. “Did you?”

I didn’t remember, I was so focused on trying to say or do something that will make her mine that I didn’t even notice her pregnant belly poking at me, the pregnant belly that was carrying my friend’s babies.

“I didn’t, no.”

Dinners with the Winter’s became a usual thing, eventually, Francis started to tag along. Heidi adored him. I became Uncle Richard to their children, and I liked it.

Did I ever stop longing after her though? Never, she would always be the wild haired girl next door in cowboy boots to me.