Loriot: Alright ... I admit I have been horrible about writing. I place the blame entirely on school. In this next week and a half, I have three papers and an exam, plus tons of reading which I should probably be doing now. But I felt bad ... and I wanted to post you guys something. It's not up to my usual, mainly pointless dribble, as it was hurried, so I do apologize. Eh ... hopefully the next update will be sooner.

Obsession

Libby slowly trailed her fingers along her boyfriend’s back, alternating writing her name and simply tracing swirling designs. He was asleep on her bed, arms folded, on his stomach, a biology book open in front of him. Libby was sitting beside him, her legs tucked under her. She yawned, picking at the blue fabric of his shirt. Sleepy. That’s how she felt. Either it was just the feeling of a Sunday afternoon, or had something to do with the dismal weather.

Jimmy and Cindy were over at the Neutrons, working on homework just as Sheen and Libby had planned to do. At least for those two, homework would get done, under the ever watchful eye of Mrs. Neutron. Libby and Sheen, on the other hand, were easily distracted. At least Sheen was. Between the ADHD and Sheen’s innately exuberant personality, he became exited over the tiniest little things. The small trinkets on Libby’s vanity, the new top she’d bought the other day, the fact the flowers he had given her on their anniversary were resting on her bedside table . . .

They had planned on studying for both the Biology exam the next day as well as working on whatever vocabulary they had to know for their English quiz. Instead Sheen had fallen asleep fifteen minutes into their review, leaving Libby alone and feeling drowsy herself. Resting against Sheen, she’d watched him sleep momentarily. For once in his life he didn’t look excited, perplexed, or, well, a tad insane . . . he looked peaceful.

Libby smiled, rubbing his arm gently, “I’m not gonna do well on that test tomorrow and I will blame you without hesitation.” At the sound of Libby’s voice, Sheen began to stir. Libby had forgotten how light of a sleeper he was. “It ought to be a crime to look so cute –”

“I’d prefer ‘manly’ or ‘ruggedly handsome,’” Sheen’s voice came, quietly, tiredly. He yawned. “If you don’t mind, Libs.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Libby murmured, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

Sheen had other ideas.

Grabbing her around the waist, Sheen pulled Libby next to him, rolling back on his side so that they could lie face to face. He kissed her softly before closing his eyes once again, arm tightly looped around her waist. Libby blinked, surprised. They were so close . . . forehead to forehead, nose to nose, chest to chest. Probably the closest they had ever been to each other within six months of dating.

Libby looked at him quizzically.

His eyes were closed, breathing deep and even once again. Libby’s mouth was parted slightly in wonder. He hadn’t tried a thing. Last time she had, unfortunately, been in this situation her ex (who shall remain nameless) had gotten a bit too friendly for her liking. Needless to say, the relationship had ended soon. But Sheen . . . his hands were in place, he was close, but not invasive. He was . . . sweet.

Libby wasn’t sure why she was so shocked. She knew Sheen, possibly better than she knew her other friends. As crazy as he acted at times, he was a wonderful person. He cared for his friends deeply, was always supporting them. He loved his family, trying so hard to be optimistic after his mother died. And he never pressured her. Never. For a teenaged guy he showed an uncharacteristic amount of self-control. Libby knew he was attracted to her, he left no room for doubt there, but he was always . . . G-rated, for lack of a better explanation. Sweet kisses, hugs, nuzzling (which was Libby’s favorite, to be honest) . . . anything that her mother would deem acceptable of a fifteen year old girl, nothing more.

Libby touched his cheek gently, smiling contently. He blinked open his eyes, watching her bleary eyed. She smiled at him sweetly, as he closed his eyes once again. “I love you, Sheen,” she murmured, almost silently. “You and your sweet, crazy ways. Your attention, your kindness, your kisses . . . your willingness to put up with my music, and even your own obsessions.”

“You’re one of ‘em, Libs,” Sheen replied quietly.

Libby smiled, closing her eyes. Curling up closer to Sheen, she sighed happily.