We have been going at this for 3 years today. Meaning that today, if we bothered to acknowledge it, would be our anniversary. I don't know if she knows- she most likely doesn't- but she knows that I notice these things. Knows that I actually give a fuck about this. She doesn't bother to talk to me about it though- she never does. She always just tells me the same things; to give her time, that it's too soon, or she just plain out doesn't want to talk about. Am I surprised? No. Am I getting restless? Yes.

I've given her time. Three years is a lot of time, in my opinion. Maybe not in her mind, but mine and possibly the rest of the world. Unfortunately, hers is the only one that matters.

"What're you doing here?" She doesn't sound mad, just curious. It's Ashley. Her. She thought I was at work. "I thought you'd be at work."

See.

She wraps her arms around me from behind and nuzzles her face into my neck. I can't help but crumble into a huge smile, because seriously, who couldn't smile to that? Not me.

"Decided to take the day off," I turn around and wrap my arms around her neck. She smiled and wraps her arms around my waist a bit tighter. She doesn't mind this; the affection, that is. Not here. "I need to talk to you about something."

She's giving me that look now. That uh oh look. The kind of look that's like uh oh shits about to go down. She sighs, because we all know she's good at it, and picks me up bridal style. She's got me again- swooning and smiling as she drops me onto the couch.

"Alrighty," she kneels down in front of me. "What do you want to talk about?"

She knows. She always knows. I bring it up every year. Probably doesn't know what else is to come though.

"Three years," I bite my lip. She just looks at me blankly. I can tell when she's playing dumb, and now is the time. She's a music producer, not an actress.

"What?" Exactly.

I roll my eyes. This is almost routine. "You know what, Ashley."

She sighs and puts her hands on her knees. "I know."

Now it's my turn to sigh. That's all I'm going to be getting out of her tonight. "Fine then. My parents are going to come in a week or so."

Her eyebrows rise faster than I've ever seen them.

The thing is, Ashley and I are… roommates. To my parents, at least. Not exactly roommates though, considering I don't pay rent or anything, I just live here. I have no idea how they believe me that nothing is going on though; they've seen this place before, and even they can't afford it.

Another thing is they have no idea about my 'relationship' with Ashley (if you can even call it that). I don't even really know what's going on either, to be quite honest. It's fairly simple though; we're not together and I'm here for her to fuck me whenever she wants. The confusing thing is she treats me like her girlfriend, ultimately. When we're together, we act like we're together, and she's just… mine, Sometimes. In a relationship? She doesn't call me her girlfriend. Fuck buddies? I'm living with her. Friends with benefits? You can't just be friends with the person you're in love with.

I'm out and proud to everyone else out there in the world, just not the Carlin bunch. That stand will only last until… next week.

See, I'm dating Ashley Davies. Well, no, more like fucking Ashley Davies. But I am living with her. She's a big shot music producer, and her sisters are known for being the new Party Girls. Therefore, Ashley is constantly in the media. She's out, and the media has already speculated about our 'relationship' ever since they got pictures of Ashley and I holding hands walking out of a club. So our 'relationship' is a secret. Only our circle of friends know, including Ashley's family and such. I'm secretly hoping that the media is the main reason why Ashley won't ever fully commit. Considering that I'm living with her, I love her, and I'm the only one she's having sex with (as far as I know). She just doesn't want to… be with me. Be my girlfriend. I want to believe she's just protecting me. Just respecting my wishes that I don't want my parents to know. I don't know though. I suppose we'll see.

"I want to tell them."

Her face just twitches a little, which is not exactly the way I thought she'd react.

"Well," she takes my hand in hers. "You know I'm always here for you."

"Ashley, when I tell my parents I'm gay, I want to tell them I'm in love with you."

Her eyes, surprisingly, don't falter a bit. Not even for a second. She squeezes my hand a bit though, and I know that that's not a good sign at all.

"We're not together Spencer," she says, kind of sadly. I bite my tongue before I reply with yeah I think I fucking got that by now. "What if they tell someone?"

"What, that I'm gay?"

"That you're fucking me."

I take a step back at that. I know everything is the fucking same when it all comes down to it, but I hate the way she had to word that. She said fucking. I'm not 12 years old, so I don't give a fuck if she said fucking or not in that sense. It's just that fact that she should of said something like 'about you and me' or 'that you're with me'. But she didn't, because in reality, I'm not.

And at this moment, I just don't care anymore.

"I want what I want, Ashley."

She's going to play dumb again.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

See. I know her too well.

"You know what that means."

She sighs at that, making me feel gruelingly good. She knows she's defeated. Knows that I know her well enough to see through her.

She won't ever admit it though.

"Just," she looks down. Her hands are dripping my knees now. "Give me time, Spence."

"I've given you lots of time, Ashley."

She almost rolls her eyes, but she catches herself. She knows that every girl on the face of the planet would be offended at that.

"I can't do-"

"Three months."

I stop shaking my head for a bit to just look at her. She's staring straight at me, almost desperately.

"What?"

"Give me three months."

My eyes squint. Over our past three years, she has never set a date. A date to give me the okay to say goodbye probably.

"Really? Three months? You sure you don't need another three years?"

"Three months Spencer. If you're not officially my girlfriend by then, you'd have every right to just… leave. You already do, honestly."

I'm already her girlfriend, really. She just isn't mine. And again, when she says things that let me know that she knows I'm hurting, it fucks me up.

"Three months, Ash."

"That's all, babes."

I guess we'll have to see.