Eyes Bright, Uptight {EDITING}

//my my, such a sweet thing// I wanna do everything//

I know this is short, but I wanted to separate it from the next part, a big big Halloween special, yall! I'm so excited for it. And for this. LOVE YOU ALL. PS If you can't see that Bedford Danes is an absolute babe, then please seek professional help immediately.

{Play "Sunday Morning" by The Velvet Underground, "Crimson and Clover" by Tommy James and The Shondells,}

{Claire's POV}

I had just said goodbye to Nick and left our favorite coffee shop next to the library. He and I had been spending countless hours together, and had quickly bonded though we hadn't known each other long. He was so kind, friendly, and animated. We shared a love for all things pumpkin spice, Joani Mitchell, and platonic kisses and hugs. Plus, he looked gorgeous with a beard and had offered multiple cudle-fucking sessions when Matty went on our this spring.

Already. A tour.

I was so over the moon for them, but everything was moving so fast. Matty assured me, over and over, that they'd only be gone for two months. But the dread had embedded its way into my heart; that was basically as long as he and I had been together. The excitement was consuming him, and I hoped the favors of the road (the drug, the girls, the celebrities, the girls, the girls) wouln't overtake him.

Not until March, I reminded myself, swalloing my nerves in a lump.

It was Sunday morning, and Matty had skipped the Daniels' family brunch to go to the record shop, a job he still found himself in and out of, though he'd been paid a handsome advance by the record company. He didn't want to let it go: the lessons with Ollie, the old vinyls, Gary not knowing how to use the computer.

Things were a little awkward between us, and I hated it.

He was bound to ask; it was just a matter of time. And I had a feeling Harper's sudden presence was pushing the issue. She hated me, from the moment she saw me. Matty had touched me, in ways I'd never been touched: mentally, physically, spiritually. If she felt half of for what I felt for him, I knew I was in for trouble.

I'd been (partially) honest with Matty, and I'd simply told him that George and I had awkwardly kissed, chucking it up to missing him and mixed feelings. He wasn't exactly happy about it, but was more understanding that I'd expected. He said that I was gorgeous, this deluded George and I's friendship. He also said he'd preferred I stop spending so much time alone with George.

Not that I spent a ton of time with him alone, lately. It wasn't really fair for Matty to be that way; I knew he and Harper were rekindling their bizarre friendship via posts she'd made about him on social media, the two of them eating pizza together and her taking picture after picture of him in the recording studio.

Bedford and I were friends. Best friends.

And for the life of me I didn't know why I couldn't peel my eyes away from his mouth right now, his handsome face so focused on devouring a cream puff.

I turned my gaze away from him as I helped his mother finish the dishes. Margaret and I dried plates, champagnge glasses, and I stocked them back in their respective places. She pecked me on the cheek and joined her husband to watch some boring program on TV.

For obvious reasons, I'd kept my little revelation to Matty a secret from George. It was awkward enough Matty knowing, and I didn't want two members of the band to lose focus as they were continuing the recording process of their first album.

I hopped on the kitchen counter and George stood in front of me, continuing to eat the cream puffs his mother had made.

"What?" he asked me, his tongue circling the filling out of the dessert.