l i t t l e  i n f i n i t y
CONRAD'S POV:

After class, Margot comes into my office for a further explanation of the weekend's assignment. My philosophy is: it's Creative Writing, just friggin' write. Appreciate my rated-PG word choice for once.

She's in the middle of apologizing again, for I don't even know what, when there's a knock on my office door. And I already know who it is based on her knock. I love you that much, Cove. Or maybe she's just so familiar I just know. Because when you're around someone pretty much twenty-four-seven, you just know.

"—for my actions on Monday," Margot finishes, but I barely hear a word from her mouth.

"Come in," I say, clearing my throat. Looking back at Margot, I nod. "Thanki—thank you for your apology, good job in class today."

Covey opens the door at that second and when she spots Margot in the seat across from me on the other side of the desk, her eyes widen and she looks away. Pissed. Wow, their hatred for each other is strong.

She visibly gulps and then turns to me. "Professor Monroe."

"Miss Jensen, have a seat. Margot was just leaving," I inform her, giving Margot a curt nod. 

She gets up from the chair and offers me a wave and cheeky smile. "Thank you again, Professor. See you around, Covey."

When she leaves, Covey shuts the door behind her and locks it. Giving me a not-so-happy look and clenching her jaw, she says, "Conrad Declan Monroe, what the dino chicken nuggets?" Holy shit, say that again. 

"Covey, I'm a teacher too," I remind her, chuckling. I open my arms for her and she walks over to me before straddling my waist. Fuck yes. "Margot is dyslexic, d'you know that?"

She scoffs, completely apathetic. "Great, so now she's talking to you about her personal life."

"Covey, be nice."

"Conrad, be understanding," she sighs, pouting. Fucker.

"You've gotta know by now that there's only ever gonna be you." I brush the stray hairs from her face, holding her jaw in my palms. Pecking her lips, I mumble, "Only ever you, mi amore."

I feel her eyelashes flutter again my nose as she kisses down my jaw. "I know, but still. Your student-teacher fantasies could—"

"They're being fulfilled right now," I say, wrapping my arms around her. "I love you, kid. I promised.'

"I know," she sighs, gulping. "I know." And then I feel like there's more she wants to say.

After a minute of her not saying, I furrow my eyebrows together. "What, love?"

"I'm just overthinking my overthinking, that's all." She gives me a wary smile, her eyes distant. Then she suddenly asks, "What happens when you don't want me anymore? What's gonna happen to me?" Are you fucking insane?

"Who said I won't want you anymore?" I ask, my grip around her waist tightening. Giving her a glare, I say, "Don't even fucking dare to say those words again, okay? You're enough—you're a hundred times enough—so don't ever question my want for you. I want you right now, I want you in five minutes, in five days, five weeks, five months, five years—hell, in five lifetimes. I chose you to love. You. Nobody else. And I promised to never leave, so I won't."

"It's just a promise," she whispers, her hazel eyes coating over with a deep look. "You can break promises."

"Well now it's a fucking lifetime guarantee," I challenge, kissing her nose. "And there is no return policy. So throw away the receipt 'cause I'm not taking you back to the place you came from."

Quizzed, she inquires, "Which is?"

"You tell me," I insist, looking between her eyes. "You tell me."

She purses her lips together, shaking her head. And putting her hands on my chest, she says, "I don't know. I was lost and then I was found. You took me from boring to awesome-sauce." Covey and her dictionary of words.

On a serious note, I tell her, "I was the devil, and you were my heaven in hell. Now we're both on one hell of a dangerous road, but I think we've found peace with that."

"Peace," she echoes, smiling at me with an adorable look on her face. "I've found peace."

And it wasn't an echoed thought exactly. We've found peace. But she stated that she had found peace. And there's no better feeling than knowing the person you love feels at home when she's with you. Because I knew if I was ever going to go down, I wanted to go down with her. Together.

******

Covey's reading in bed when I get out of the shower, and as much as I want to fuck her right now, I put on a pair of sweatpants.

She doesn't look up from the book as I walk up towards the bed, lifting myself up and on top so I'm in between her legs with my head in her stomach. I look up at her and stare for who knows how long, and then she hooks her arms around my neck, the book still in her hands, and she starts to swirl her fingers in my hair. I love you so much.

Shit, I'm so whipped.
But who doesn't want whipped cream?

Finally, she looks at me with a sad expression. Oh no, what did I do this time?

"'There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1,'" she whispers, tears in her eyes. She sniffles a little, shaking her head with a sad smile.

"Honey, I know I graduated college but I'm not understanding." I press a kiss her to stomach, lifting her shirt so she can feel it. "Explain it to me."

Looking back down at the book, her lips quiver. "'There's .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.'" I love when she reads to me.

"Where does that sound familiar from?" I ask, my chin on the back of my hands as I blink up at her.

She doesn't answer me until she reads, "'But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I'm grateful.'"

"Oh," I voice, hugging her waist as I lean up to kiss her jaw. "The Fault in Our Stars."

"Fate," Covey whispers, leaning her head up as I kiss her skin softly.

"Did you know," I murmur, my tongue sweeping across her skin. "The title of the book came from Shakespeare's play in Julius Caesar where Cassius says, 'The fault, dear Brutus is not in our stars / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.'?"

"That's deep," she breathes out, the book dropping at her sides as she wraps her arms around me.

"And its deeper meaning behind it is that fate is supposedly determined by the stars, you know, the term star-crossed lovers? And here Shakespeare is saying—"

"That it's our fault things happen. Our fault we fall in love?"

"Precisely," I say, moving my head to look her in the eyes. "You're so smart, Covey."

"But he changed the title to The Fault in Our Stars as an opposite to Shakespeare's words." She holds my jaw in her tiny hands, her fingers brushing the stubble that's grown. "Because it was fate that Hazel met Gus. And they couldn't do anything about having cancer, that was their fate too."

"So really it's The Fault in Our Fate," I explain, brushing my nose against hers. "I don't think we could've changed not happening."

"What do you mean?"

I sigh, connecting my lips to hers. "This," I mumble, my teeth dragging against her lip. "All of this. I think it was fate we met. Fate you are in my class. Fate I stopped to talk to you that day on your run. The right person, the right time, the right fate. And all we can say is it's not our fault our stars aligned this way, that sometimes things—"

"Just fucking happen," she finishes, giving me a goofy smile.

"I told you no bad words," I growl, glaring at her.

"But you were gonna say that right now, weren't you?" she teases, quirking an eyebrow up at me.

"Yes," I grumble, clenching my jaw and my lips going pouty. "Whatever."

"You whatever," she laughs, tweaking my nose with her thumb and index finger. 

I sit up and straddle her waist, playing with her hair. "This is our little infinity."

"Yeah," she considers, looking down at her hands. She looks sad almost, and I wish I could know what went on in that brain of hers.

I tilt her chin up with my index finger, forcing her gaze on mine. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She looks at me with a confused and torn expression, her lip between her teeth. "What if it's determined in our fate we eventually drift apart?" I don't think we can live like that.

"We'll just have to rewrite the stars," I explain, pointing to the ceiling. And drawing random shapes in the air, I trail my finger all the way around until it lands on her heart. "And it will always—always—lead back to you. Because 'I promise' is our 'always.'"

"I promise," she returns, the beautiful smile she normally wears back on her face.

"I promise too, Covey. I promise a million." I inhale her hair, holding her close to me as I roll over and bring her to my chest. "Why are you so insecure all of a sudden?"

She nods a couple times until she's comfortable, and she blinks up at me. "It's nothing."

"It's something," I say. "Even nothing is something."

She sighs, her fingers tracing the outline of my abs. I slightly shiver, holding her closer to me. Finally speaking, she shares, "I'm still thinking about moving in with you. How will I know it wouldn't screw everything up? How will I know I won't ruin it?"

"Because I know you won't. I'm the one who wants you here with me." A thought pops into my mind, and I say, "I want to try something, and you can let me know if my idea is too far-fetched, but I want to at least try. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Thank you, baby." I kiss her forehead and continue, "First of all, I want to spend the weekend with you."

"I'm already always here," she mutters, smirking a little.

"But I don't want to have sex with you this weekend," I explain, wrapping my arms around her tighter. She gasps, her eyes frantically going wide and sort of panicked. Holy shit, she wants sex. 

Innocently, she asks, "Why?"

"Because this is our little infinity," I reply, trying to find the right words. "Our time with each other is always going to be limited—which means every hour, every minute, and every second matters. There are times we can be intimate one-on-one and there are times when we can see each other and talk at school as professor and student. But I want to show you that I'm stable, that I can be your person, and that I can be more than just showing my love to you in bed when we're alone."

"That seems very... intense?" Very intimate? I agree.

"Well, what's gonna happen on your period?" I bring out, immediately gulping. Shit, wrong move. "I mean—this is good training because we'd have to go without for five days, you know?"

"There's always the shower," she mutters, shrugging. Oh my, what have I done to Covey?

"I guess what I'm getting at is, I don't want to rely on sex and I don't want you to rely on sex and I don't want us to be just sex sex sex," I inform her, sighing. "Because fuck, you feel so good and I want to be buried deep inside of you every time I lay my eyes on your gorgeous fucking body and hear your pretty little laugh, but I want to just see what it's like hanging out as a couple. A wholesome couple."

"We're being wholesome right now," she shrugs.

"I know, and I'm talking about being wholesome for forty-eight hours, mi amore."

"Okay, Sir."

"And you can only call me Conrad, Coco Puff, or baby all weekend," I add, smiling a little. "I think this would be good for us." And it will help keep our libido in check.

"So, what are we supposed to do?" she inquires, giving me lost puppy eyes.

"Talk about our little infinity," I answer, moving her hair to one side of her shoulders. "About our future; our kids, our wants, our marriage. Because honestly, I wish I could marry you right now and call it the end all, be all." We could just elope. I mean, I really just want you living with me. "We can talk about you moving in?"

She shakes her head shyly. "Not right now." Covey lets out a small sigh and then puckers her lips out. "I can still get kisses, right?"

"Of course, baby." I peck her lips. "If you had a baby, would you want a boy or a girl?"

"I want a boy," she says, no hesitation. "Or a set of twins, one boy and one girl—but I don't think I could take care of twins. And if I had two kids, I'd want a boy first and then a girl. What about you?"

I hum. "Whatever you want, though it's too bad we can't pick what gender comes out of you." And I want a girl nurse to help you give birth. Fuck the guy doctors who'd touch what's mine.

"That was very graphic," she says, crinkling her nose up. "It already feels painful."

"It's true," I say, laughing. "I wish I could pick what my sperm would do to your egg." I laugh some more. "Holy shit, imagine—"

"Don't laugh, I'd be the one going through all the pain!"

Dramatically, I add, "And I'd be the one losing all my precious hair."

"Oh like that's so important," she giggles. Her fucking laugh melts me. "What would you want to name them?"

"For a boy? Alec Ledger Monroe or Jackson Ace Monroe." I look down at her to gag her reaction, and she smiles with a proud smile, nodding her head. "And for a girl? I don't know, I kind of like the name Kaydence."

"So you've thought about this before?" Covey asks, looking surprised.

"Yes, I've thought about our kids," I state, nodding. "And I hope they're as beautiful as you."

"They will be," she mumbles, "I mean, their dad is a delicious friggin' Snickers bar."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "How long until you want kids?"

"I don't know," she whispers, and her voice is so low it's almost incoherent. "I guess they'll come when they feel like entering the world."

"So if you got pregnant next month you'd be okay with that? You'd be prepared for it?" I ask, inhaling and exhaling and waiting for her response. Would I be okay with that? Of course.

"I think we'd work it out." She waits a second before adding, "Right?"

"Right," I echo. "But you're on birth control and we're fine, you're fine—and that won't happen." Then it's my turn to ask, "Right?"

"Right."

Right?

******
AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Imagine a little Alec Ledger Monroe walking around... or Conrad saying, "Look at Jack, he's so cute," in a baby voice... and telling a little Kaydence, "You look like mommy." SHEESH I'm on cloud nine just thinking about it.

LOVE YOU ALL AND THANKIES FOR BEING HERE.
Please vote, comment, and write some baby names you'd want to name your kids right here-