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This is an unfortunate personality trait of mine. I will discover a random thing I find interesting, learn everything I can, and then want to share my newfound knowledge with everyone around me.
“You don’t have to change; you just need to find someone who loves you exactly how you are.”
excuse me while I sob uncontrollably
In his particular case, Henry Cavill and Chris Evans would combine to produce his dark, brooding handsomeness.
Oliver reaches out and takes my hand in his. And my world tilts off its axis.
my man is already down bad fr
Now I’ve met him, I know the photo doesn’t do Callum Prescott justice. It doesn’t show how his hair flops perfectly over his forehead, how his eyes are such an unusual shade of green, reminding me of a peridot gemstone of perfect clarity.
The other thing that surprised me was how my body reacted to shaking Callum’s hand. A frission of energy shot up my arm, and it felt like every cell in my body had tingled. It was as if my body wanted to ensure I knew I was touching an attractive man.
“What’s he like?” Toby asks. I struggle to put my thoughts into words as I stand, gathering my folder of notes. I only met Callum for a few minutes. But he definitely left a lasting impression.
There’s already a message from Callum waiting for me, and I ignore the way my heart leaps at that discovery.
His lips twist into a smile. It’s his slightly crooked one again, his right lip quirking up more than his left. I have no idea why I find Oliver’s asymmetrical smile fascinating, but it appears I want to study it more than anything I’ve studied in my life. Perhaps I should enroll for a Ph.D. in Oliver Hartwell’s Lopsided Grins.
this is quite literally the cutest thing ever
I love the way Callum’s brain works. The thought slides into my head. It’s not helpful right now.
It takes me a minute to orient myself. I’m the Prince of Wales. I’m in Buckingham Palace. I’ve just been dreaming about kissing Oliver Hartwell, the British prime minister.
And there it is, embedded in the scented rose gardens. A large sculpture, more than twice my height, the white marble almost glowing in the pale moonlight. The Waterloo Vase.
red, white and royal blue vibes
“I never imagined when I saw the coverage of your election that you’d one day become my best friend,” I say.
I’ve won so many battles against the odds in my life. But I honestly don’t think I’m going to win the battle with myself to stop wanting Callum.
Oh, holy fuck. The realization strikes me like one of the surrounding mountains has just fallen down on me. I’m in love with him. Every moment, every interaction between us, has been an exercise of falling in love with him. I’ve fallen in love with every part of him.
But his dark gaze is unwavering on mine. “I love you,” he says again. An emotion rises inside me that’s so powerful it takes me a moment to recognize it. Joy. Complete, utter joy.
“My grand point is we don’t know what the future holds. But I do know I can’t be without you now.”
“You deserve to be loved so much more than that.” “I wonder where I could find someone to love me,” I say. Callum gives a small grin. “I don’t think you have to look very far.” I snort. “You don’t have to look very far to find someone who loves you either,” I reply. Callum’s grin fades, and we stare at each other through the screen.
I want to be in his arms, forget the pressures of our positions, and just be two men who love each other.
My words emerge in a gush. “I need you, Oliver. I don’t care if I have to crawl over broken glass or through blazing fire to get to you. I don’t care. I need to touch you. I need to kiss you.” My chest heaves and tears prickle my eyes.
My need to claim this man is so strong that I find myself pulling back from him to reach up and remove the dog tags from around my neck. “I want you to have these.” Callum stares at me. “I can’t take your dog tags, Oliver.” “I want you to.” I swallow hard. “I can’t do anything else to show you’re mine. I can’t publicly claim you. But I can give you these to wear. I want to know something I’ve worn for years is now next to your skin.”
But Callum…something about him disarmed my defenses from the outset. And now we’ve ended up here. Where I’m completely in love with this man with no clear way forward.
please let them have a happy ending :'(
I’m falling more and more in love with Oliver.
It feels disingenuous to sit across from Queen Katharine talking about our foreign policy plans and new government initiatives without mentioning that I’m head-over-heels in love with her grandson.
“The universe never quite made sense to me until I got to touch you,” he whispers. Oh my god. I can’t help kissing him again. These stolen moments with Oliver are what I live for.
“I love you!” My voice is ragged, desperate. As I’m dragged away, I continue to scream the words, trying to get Oliver to hear this fundamental truth that my life boils down to.
