I AM ACTUALLY DECEASED.
I CANT. I ACTUALLY CANNOT.
Superfruit_IsLife MAMA ALPHA THANK YOU.
R.I.P GWENDOLYN.

***

It was that time of the day again. The time of the day when he'd come back home, throw his backpack on his rocking chair that he sometimes threw me on.

Before he did anything else, he would pick me up. His hand curled around my back and his slender fingers grasped my edges.

In his left hand he held a pencil as I laid in his right. He would first sigh happily with his pupils dilated as he stared at me.

He would then begin to write on my stomach. He would write the first letter before sighed frustratedly and scribbling it out.

The pattern I learned to recognized instantly was a name.

'Scott'

He wrote the name over and over again. He would always draw little hearts around the name and a smile tugged at his lips when he would think of his next sentence.

Sometimes he would write too much and flip too many pages, I would start hurting. I remember one time I cut myself when he flipped my page too hard.

Be gasped loudly and flicked at the tear before sighing and flipping to another page.

"My dearest, Scott..."

Hs spent hours writing on me, using hearts instead of dots above the i's and j's. I wondered what it would be like if Scott ever read these.

Until one day he did.

Mitch was frantic as he stuffed clothes in bags and made his bed, he also kept looking in the mirror.

I was confused.

Minutes later after he checked himself in the mirror ten times, yes, I counted, a tall, skinny, but muscular blond entered the room with a million dollar smile.

Mitch was playing with his fingers nervously behind his back as he greeted Scott.

They seemed so nervous, but adorable. The blond who matched the description of Scott began to help Mitch with some homework for a few minutes before Mitch excuse himself to the loo.

Scott smiled and nodded at him as he left the room. Scott sighed happily, his smile still present as he began walking around Mitch's room, picking up books and picture frames, and the soon sitting down on Mitch's bed.

He looked right at me. I grew nervous, I was Mitch's and Mitch's only. Mitch would be so upset if he knew someone else was going to read what he had written on me.

I knew for a fact that he would write about it.

Scott picked me up, his hold a lot bigger but warm. He flipped through the first page casually, his face rested.

But as he continued to read me, his eyes going left to right quicker and quicker, his eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly.

I realized then that the person who was holding me was indeed Scott. I smiled as he put me down and went back to his normal position as footsteps were getting louder.

Mitch walked back in the room with a glass of water as well and sat back down.

I honestly felt violated but whatever.

I watched as Scott began to fidget with his pencil. He seemed conflicted, but he ended up making a risky move.

He took a deep breath before leaning in and capturing Mitch's lips on his own.

I cheered to myself, I couldn't believe it! This was off the pages people!

They both pulled back, flustered but also surprised at what had just happened.

That night, Mitch's shaking hands wrote on me. The expression on his face said it all.

'Today he kissed me. I'm not sure why. But he did! He asked me out this morning, I can't believe it! For once in my life, I have nothing to write.'

He put me down next to him and turned his lamp off, causing the room to go dark.

It's truly surprising what a little notebook like me can do.

***

Are we living for my kind of galaxy book cover colour scheme? yes we are.

and don't you dare say you aren't living for it because it took me roughly four hours to do so FUCKING LIKE IT, BOY.