So, this is a story I just found from a month or two ago. I thought I'd post it. Depending on the reaction(and number of reviews) I might make it into a multi-chapter. It is intended to be Ginny/Dean, but you can take it for any couple you want. Please review!
I walked into the bar. I don't come here often, as I get drunk easily, but I deserved a good time, right? Got to get some of them, in case God doesn't show up later.
I sat down at the counter and ordered a beer. "You sure, honey? This one's a little strong…" the bartender told me.
"Just hit me, all right?" I snapped at him. He shrugged and slid over a large mug. I grabbed it, downing the whole thing in a matter of minutes. "Again," I said, rapping my knuckles on the countertop.
"Whoa. Bad day?" A voice said next to me. I glanced over at the man next to me and took another gulp of beer.
"You've no idea." I muttered.
"Well, then I can fix that. Forget beer. Takes too long to drunk that way," he said and pushed away my mug. He bought some shots and gave one to me. "To bad days," he toasted, and I echoed.
"To bad days."
He was right. It didn'ttake long to get drunk. Soon we were laughing together like old friends. I took a turn treating him with some shots, and we became more drunk, confessing feelings for each other. Even though I had never met him before, I couldn't help myself and started kissing him.
"Do-do you want to get a room?" He asked, gasping. I could only nod, and we went upstairs. Falling into bed, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. He started taking his clothes off, and I did the same.
He was amazing in bed, is the least I can say. I loved every minute of it. In the morning, I got up before he was awake. I put my clothes on hurriedly and left a note on my pillow for him:
Thanks for the memories. You were the best one-night-stand I ever had, even though I never did catch your name. I wish I could have stayed longer. Love, ------. Here, I had written my name, but changed my mind and quickly scratched it out. It was probably best if he had no way of contacting me.
xXx
"What's wrong, honey?" my boyfriend asked me.
"I don't know," I lied. Really, I knew exactly what was wrong. I had managed to forget about that night at the bar for three months. But now, now that I was in a happy relationship with a wonderful guy, I couldn't keep that other guy out of my head. "Thanks for the memories," I whispered, not for the first time that night.
"What was that?" my boyfriend asked. I looked over at him sadly. Suddenly I couldn't take it anymore.
"I said, 'thanks for the memories'. It didn't originally apply to you, but now I see that it has to. I'm tired of—not of being with you, per say, but of pretending you're some other guy every time I have sex with you. Because, no, don't interrupt, the truth is, I'm in love with some other guy. I don't even know his name, but I know that I love him a lot more than anyone else. I'm sorry. Thanks for the memories, anyway, even though they weren't that great."
I got up, slowly getting dressed. I couldn't believe I'd just done that, and neither could my boyfriend, apparently, who didn't speak until I was at the door. "What are you going to do? If you don't even know the guy's name, why bother? Just stay here with me."
I half smiled. "I don't know. You know," I added thoughtfully, my hand still on the doorknob, "it's funny, but he was a lot like you. Except that his kisses were somehow sweeter."
And with that, I walked away, perhaps to find a new life for myself, one where I visited a new bar every night looking for someone with a loud laugh and sweet kisses.