“Dating is a hellhole and it’s insulting that we aren’t in love! Look at this, look at what we have.” I say, reaching my arm out from the balcony, to beckon towards the evening sky and the shadowed outline of rolling hills. It’s 9:30p.m. on a cold January night and the stars are out to play. The stars are not fucking around. I might be fucking around, but the stars are here on serious business.
“Everything that touches the starlight could be yours.”
“Nothing touches the starlight.”
“No-everything here does if you look at it right.”
“True, not Vienna. But here, everything here could be yours, at least for now”
“Yeah, until the end of the week.”
“Well, we agreed, you can be my boyfriend for today, tomorrow, and the day after”
“And then you go to NYE guy.”
Give me validation.