"Hey. I need some advice."

Yvo doesn't bother looking at Graham. "Dating Blaise doesn't mean I know how I did it. So fuck off."

He really doesn't know. Even after three months.

Thank fuck for her crush on him in freshman year...?

He fucks up. He fucks up a lot. It's his first fucking relationship and he's clingy and he tends to throw tantrums when Blaise is too busy for him and he's so fucking jealous they've fought about it multiple times, but she loves him anyway.

For the first time in his life, he's trying so hard to make a relationship work.

There was a time when he thought he'd almost lost her. Isla, Yvo's short fling (of kisses. Not hook-ups) in his freshman year who had remained friends with Graham and Jayden, almost kissed him outside the bar when they went out for drinks. He told her to fuck off.

Yvo kept it from Blaise because he didn't want her to worry, but Isla had texted him that night when he slipped in beside her in bed and Blaise had read it on accident.

She was crying and telling him to get out.

Yvo had thought she was done with him. If she were, he would have hunted Isla down.

But it had been his fault as well, and while he hated being ignored, he knew she needed her space.

When Blaise came in for their class together, her eyes were bloodshot. It wrecked him when she didn't spare him a glance, but the little white bear was still dangling in her bag. That was the keychain he bought for her on their first date.

Yvo wrote a note and slid it on her chair in front of him. i'm so sorry. i know i'm a fucking ass but i fucking miss you.

Blaise read it, and then she folded it up and hid it under her notebook.

Yvo's heart dropped.

But then she held her free hand out behind her and Yvo quickly took it, laying his head on his forearm as she interlaced their fingers together in between their chairs.

"Don't keep shit like that from me again," she muttered later, head buried against his chest. "And I give you permission to smash her head in for almost kissing you."

Yvo grinned.

Blaise hates lacrosse. She hates sitting in the bleachers where it's cold and noisy during games, but she comes anyway because he's captain and she says he looks hot in his jersey.

She also wears his jersey during those games. Gives him a good luck kiss.

But now he's annoyed. Yvo drops the stick and types his reply. the fuck u mean ure busy

He can hear his girlfriend's sigh from her response. it means i have homework to finish and i don't want to sit and watch you shoot balls into a net for an hour. you're hot but you're not that hot.

Yvo grits his teeth. He hasn't seen her since their class together this morning and she only kissed his cheek in goodbye before hurrying to her next class.

He misses her, goddamn it, and he wants her to watch him.

"Sandejas!" his coach barks.

He grits his teeth and tosses his phone into his bag before running over with his stick.

In the middle of drills, he sees her on the bleachers, wearing his huge hoodie and sweatpants and her hair tied in a messy bun, watching him.

Yvo smirks under his helmet and makes a show of impressing her by making five consecutive shots.

When coach finally calls a break, Yvo runs over to her. "You said you were busy. And that you hate lacrosse."

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" she snaps, rolling her eyes.

Yvo rests his palms on either side of her hips on the bench and leans in close. God, she smelled so fucking good, and he loves how those big brown eyes widen. "And?"

He's not letting her off easy.

Blaise glares at him, cheeks going pink. "And I wanted to see you and I missed you too. Shut up."

Yvo kisses her and smiles against her mouth.

Sometimes, he goes to her dance practices, too—but he hates doing that because he feels like a fucking teenager about to juice his pants when she's sweating and moving and panting and just in her element.

She sends him a video of her solo rehearsal one time while he's out with his parents.

He sends one word back. fuck

Blaise types her reply. sorry, is it that bad?

no fuck i got a boner

Yvo knows she laughs at him for that.

There's a prick from another school who's smiling and asking for her number after her competition, but Yvo stalks over with his goddamn flowers in his hand, grabbed her face, and kissed her in front of him.

He knows he'd probably get into another fight with her doing this, but she's in a good mood because of their win and because of the flowers that she only rolls her eyes and drags him away.

One breakfast one morning, Blaise's hair was up in a ponytail, giving him a perfect view of her fucking neck. It's annoying not kissing it.

Yvo passes her table, slides the ponytail out of her hair to let it down on her shoulders, and twists it in his finger before leaving the dining hall.

She pushes him against the wall of an empty classroom when she follows him outside and kisses him hard. "I hate you."

"Mm, well, you're dating an asshole."

Blaise smiles in his mouth. She strokes her thumb along his cheek and keeps kissing him.

He loves her so much he can't think of anything else.

She's invaded his senses—smell, sight, sound.

Taste and touch.

Even his fucking organ—ah, you know which one.