On My Own Pretending He's Beside Me Novels & Stories

But I know what calm looks like, and I know what pretending looks like too. And Lucas… he is pretending. “Lucas,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath, my lips moving so slightly that it feels like I am speaking only to my own reflection in the glass. “You can hear me, right?” He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look up. The idiot bacon sits perfectly still, pretending nothing happened. But I see it, the faint tick in his jaw, the quick twitch of his lips, the kind that only shows when someone is holding something in.

I tell myself to turn around, but I don’t. Instead, I move to a table a few rows away, placing my bag down carefully. I keep my movements quiet, deliberate, as if any sudden sound might shatter something fragile. I sit and pull out my book. I pretend to read, but I can’t concentrate. Every few seconds, my eyes betray me, drifting back to him. He hasn’t noticed me yet. Or maybe he has, and he’s pretending he hasn’t—just like before. The irony doesn’t escape me.

But none of that is here. His posture isn’t posed. His eyes aren’t brightening for the lens.His shoulders aren’t squared into the perfect golden-boy silhouette.he is simply standing in front of me unguarded steady and real. my heart gives a slow uneven thud. “ you dont have to do that,” i murmur. i cant make myself look away from him. “ you dont have to pretend.” the breeze lifts a few strands of hair across my cheek as i wait for the contradiction the confusion the irritation that should follow a statement like that. Something.

I smile, looking at him as he whines like a kid not being able to get his jacket off of him. "Wait, let me do it," I say as I sit beside him on the bed and help him pull out his jacket. He then faces me and says groggily. "You know, you don't.... have to do.... this." "Do what?" I raise an eyebrow questioningly. "Pretend..that ...you care about me." He says with sadness in his eyes. "The reality... is.... you don't care about me." He speaks looking at me. He then lets out a humorless chuckle and says. "In fact, nobody cares about me."

“Never allow anyone else to come that near to you again. Not even, for a scheme.” My face reddened. "Ferguson...” “I’m not joking " he murmured. "I almost went crazy watching it.” I exhaled quietly grinning gently. "You’re envious.” “I am " he declared unabashedly. "Absolutely.” “Well " I replied, "don’t be concerned. Jimmy is merely acting. I am merely acting.. You…” He lifted an eyebrow. "Me?” “You’re not faking it. You’re the person who truly belongs to me.”

I smile at her before I try again. Closing my eyes, I pretend that we are in our bedroom. I am standing close to the bed and he is behind me. I can almost imagine the feeling of his breath on my neck. I focus on grounding myself to the earth to help me keep the illusion from taking over completely and instead think about something that he would say to me in this position. Something that I would not mind Elle or Julia overhearing. "Hey, sweetheart. Do you need a backrub?" Dante says from behind me.

For a moment, I shifted on the bench, debating whether I should get up and leave or stay where I was. But in the end, I stayed. If he wanted to pretend I wasn’t there, fine. Two could play the same game. I closed my eyes again, my chin tilted up, doing my best impression of a woman completely unbothered. He didn’t take the hint. Of course he didn’t. I heard him settle onto the bench across from me, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. “Didn’t expect to find you here,” he said into the silence. “Thought you’d be hiding in your room, rehearsing whatever speech you’re planning to give me tomorrow.”

I turn around as fast as I can and unintentionally bring him to his knees in front of me. Stay on your knees Santo," I can't help thinking inwardly before placing my foot on his shoulder to hold him in place. "At the risk of repeating myself: hands off, asshole... I mean, Santo." Why do I sound like a bitch? It's the only way we can stay hidden in the crowd. Please, please, please, the Madonna, make my brother believe in an optical illusion! I lean towards him and pretend to readjust the collar of his leather jacket. DIO MIO!

He got down from his bed and walked towards his closet, I breathed a sigh of relief. "Why do I have a feeling you are hope to no good? Where are you off to?" He asked, trying the clothes on me. "Want me to go with you?" He asked, I rolled my eyes at his effort of trying to be nice. "The deal is pretending to be you so I could go out alone." "Break your legs cousin, but don't die." *******

“That’s what I’m doing.” “No, you’re not,” I said. “You’re pretending to care because it’s convenient for you.” “That’s not true,” he said. “Really?” I challenged. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re doing exactly what you want, with whomever you want, and then acting surprised when people react to it.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “What is that supposed to mean?” “You tell me,” I replied. Another step. Closer now. Too close.