It’s as good as it gets.
Because your imagining of Stella is exactly right.
I reckon she’s cool.
Right now, she’s runnin’ and gunnin’ on multiplayer, totally destroying the opposition.
Her fingers blur, changing between weapons, calling on air cover and tossing grenades, all at staggering speed.
She looks over to me like she’s driving a car and I’m in the passenger seat.
Waiting for the next match to start, she leans across, kisses my neck, takes a little … refreshment.
“You stay strong for me,” Stella whispers, “and I’ll stay strong for you.”
Neither of us desire a complex relationship.
©Brinkinfield all rights reserved 2020
101 word flash fiction