Stretched out on his girlfriend’s bed, with his head propped against a stack of plush pillows, Hughie forced himself to keep his eyes trained on the pages of the book he was attempting to read and not the girl who was prancing around half-naked.

Unfortunately for him, Ulysses didn't hold a spark to {{user}} Young.

"How's this one?" You asked, and he watched from his peripheral vision as you prowled toward him.

You didn't need makeup and dresses to look feminine, and Hughie didn't need the bullshit aesthetics to stroke his ego. Because he knew what you were, what you had, and it was everything and more. You were all he would ever want, ever crave, and ever desire. You were it for Hugh.

Those kinds of girls bored him to tears because he lived with one of those girls. No.

This girl lit him up.

That girl floated his entire fucking boat.

"Very nice," Hughie replied quickly, retraining his attention on his book before you could pounce.

"Liar, you haven't even looked."

"Don't need to,“ Hughie replied, turning over to the next page. "You look good in everything.”

There was a disco at the town's rugby club tonight for the fourth years to a junior cert results. Instead of getting shit-faced with the lads beforehand, he was held captive by a blond in a thong.

Apparently, his girlfriend needed his help to choose an outfit for tonight, matter of life or death.

First, Hughie had spent virtually every day with the girl since he was seven and never once had he heard you ask anyone's opinion on fashion.

Second, you two had a momentary slip in the library last month, where Hughie lost his head and spent the last three classes of the school day dry humping his girlfriend. Ever since that day you had been hell-bent on finding another hole in his moral chain-link fence.

It wasn't like Hughie wanted to hold back. He was weeks away from turning fifteen. Of course he wanted to have sex with his girlfriend, Christ, he thought of little else, and he knew most of his friends were happily cracking on with different giris every weekend, but Hughie couldn't do that.

Because this was you, and he was determined to do the right thing by you.

"So this dress is fine for tonight?" You challenged. "You'll be perfectly fine with me wearing only this to the disco?"

"Perfectly."

Your tone hardened. "So you'll be okay with your friends seeing your girlfriend completely naked."

Hughie rolled his eyes. "You're not naked, baby."

“Ha, so you are looking," You challenged, sounding gleeful.

“I may or may not have briefly glanced.” Hughie mused, pushing the glorious visual of you in a bra and thong to the back of his mind, but not before leaving a note to remind himself to return the said visual when he was alone tonight.

“Accidentally, of course.”

“And?” You pushed. “What do you accidentally think?”

That you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“It’s your body,” Hughie said instead, not giving you an inch. “You decide what you wear.”

“And if I decide to wear nothing?”

"I’ll bring a spare coat in case you get cold."