(no subject)
Title: Five Times Jeff Thought He Might Be In Love With Annie (And the One Time He Knew He Was)
Author: office_bluth
Spoilers: Mentions of Debate 109 and Pascal's Triangle Revisited
Rating/Warnings: Things get a bit hairy later on. Let's call it PG-13.
Word Count: 2686
Author's Note: This is one of two fics I wrote while I should have been paying attention in school. I thank US History for being so boring and allowing my mind to wander.
Disclaimer: Community belongs to Dan Harmon and NBC. Unfortunately.
I. standing on a stage in a stupid sweater and a Britney Spears-esque microphone
It’s not even that she kissed him. Well - don’t get him wrong; he kinda loved that part. But that’s not even what it is. It’s just so…darkly manipulative of her. Winger-esque, even. Annie Edison is the only person who would kiss someone, both to win a debate at a community college where the prize is…well, nothing, really, except some misguided sense of self-worth, and to get a paraplegic dropped to the ground. It’s sick. It’s twisted. Jeff loves it. Loves her…?
He quickly dismisses that thought, but it’s terrifying that the word “love” popped into his head. He’s just gonna chalk it up to the fact that his whole day has been backwards. It wasn’t even just that he kissed Annie that was throwing him off. It was the fact that he wanted her that freaked him out so much, back in the study room, when she took down her hair and Jeff ran away - ran away. He actually ran from a girl. Holy crap. But it wasn’t just because she suddenly got hot (though, yeah, that totally was part of it). It was that he flat-out didn’t trust himself with her. Annie’s only eighteen - she’s much too young for, well, him. Jeff would never deny being skeezy, but he’s not a pervert. He’s well-aware that Annie is too young for him.
His rapid heartbeat and the memory of her pink lips on his will just…go away when his body and his mind get on the same page.
II. outside in the dark, with enough emotional problems to make Mischa Barton seem sane, and a hot girl holding onto him like she was on the Titanic and he’s her life preserver
Well. This isn’t exactly how his night was supposed to go.
It’s not like he was planning on ending the night with either Britta or Slater. Actually, he had planned on ending his night with Debbie - Little Debbie, that is. He bought a huge pack of Cosmic Brownies earlier at Sam’s Club, and they’ve been calling his name all day.
Though he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Annie’s better than Cosmic Brownies. Though it’s funny, he can’t help but think, how Annie’s similar to one. Both melt in his hands. Both are entirely too sweet. And, most importantly, both are very, very bad for him if consumed in large quantities, much like Troy and that giant cookie of his.
Er - not that he’s planning on eating Annie, or anything. Look, most of Jeff’s blood isn’t flowing to his brain at the moment. He can’t be held accountable for creating an imperfect metaphor.
He kisses her for what feels like hours, kisses her until he can’t remember his problems, let alone his own name. Then her bright doe eyes are looking at him, her lips parted and swollen.
“Jeff,” she says on an exhale. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He could definitely get used to this, he thinks - he wouldn’t mind getting to kiss Annie whenever he wanted, or hearing her whisper his name like that, or…
Crap - is that Britta? “I have to go,” he quickly tells Annie, pecking her on the lips before sprinting to his car, praying to every god in the universe that Britta will leave the rest of the windows of his Lexus intact.
III. in his bed, mere moments after having his mind blown by a 19-year-old sexually repressed girl with the mouth of a Hoover
Jesus fucking Christ.
Jeff isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure that he can’t move.
He tries lifting his arm, but he knows it’s gonna happen, even before the shooting pain hits him like he’s being stabbed in the elbow. Jesus Christ. He can’t move. Annie broke him. Annie Edison fucked him to death.
Well. At least he died doing what he loves.
Aw, crap. That came out wrong - now it could be interpreted as Jeff loving Annie. He didn’t mean that! He meant sex. Jeff loves sex. Not Annie. He hasn’t spent the vast majority of the last seventy-two hours in his bedroom with her because he loves Annie. It’s because he loves sex.
…And, yeah, okay. He’ll admit that, for the last two months, the time they’ve been sneaking around, he’s been unable to even fathom being with anyone else. But that’s not love. That’s…that’s…not wanting to mess up something good. Not violating a contract (albeit a contract sealed with tangled limbs and cool lips on hot skin).
It’s been like this ever since the prom. Jeff called Annie the next day to apologize for running away, and she suggested they go out to lunch. Lunch one day turned into dinner the next night, and so on, until about two weeks later when they had sex on his couch. No one knows - they have weekly dinners with Troy, Abed, and Pierce, and, well, they’re certainly not the best audience for Jeff and Annie to announce their - habit of sleeping together.
Because it’s not a relationship. It’s totally not. A relationship involves sex, which, okay, yes, is happening, but Annie only sleeps over Jeff’s on the weekends, which are pretty much filled with sex 24/7. But there needs to be more, too - there needs to be, like, actual dates outside the bedroom, which Jeff and Annie don’t do (aside from the weekly dinners at Pierce’s mansion and the other things they do with the study group. Except Britta. She called Jeff the day after prom to apologize and yell at him for kissing a random girl - thankfully, she couldn’t tell that it was Annie. Now she’s spending the summer in Colombia or Chad or somewhere else with a C that Jeff couldn’t find on a map if he tried). And, most importantly, there needs to be love, and that’s obviously not there.
Except maybe in times like this, when they’re lying in bed, their clothes thrown somewhere on the floor.
“Jesus,” Jeff says, voicing the only thought he’s had since he rolled off her. “I think I’m dead.”
He glances at her, seeing that she’s nodding emphatically. It’s always been like this. The first time they slept together was Annie’s second time ever, but holy God is she a quick learner. She’s just as enthusiastic and dogged in this regard as she is in school. Now she knows exactly how to roll her hips, or how a light flick of her tongue makes Jeff jump about a foot in the air.
He’s also found the benefits of sleeping with a 19-year-old girl. It’s like she’s never satisfied. Well - that’s not exactly true. Judging by the fact that she walks with a limp for two days after their weekends together, Jeff knows he’s doing a more-than-adequate job of satisfying her. She just never stops wanting. And, okay, she’s still her old repressed self in many ways - she still can’t say the name of anything they do, and shower sex is completely out, but she’s getting better. She says “condom” now, and she can give him a handjob without getting tremors in her hands.
But it’s not love. Even though they lock themselves into his apartment from 6 PM Friday to 11 AM Monday, and some nights during the week, they just cuddle on the couch and watch old black-and-white movies. But, um.
What was he saying?
Oh. Right. Yeah. He totally doesn’t love her.
Maybe.
IV. there’s a brunette in his arms, a disapproving glare from a self-righteous “feminist,” huge grins from the two token black members, and two smirks of varying levels of creepiness from the movie buff and the pervert
Well. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“How long?” Britta asks through gritted teeth.
“I’ve never measured, but I’d say six, seven inches,” Jeff responds with a quick glance down at his crotch.
That throws everyone for a moment.
Then Pierce steps forward to high five Jeff, and the reality of the situation hits everyone. Thirty seconds ago, Jeff and Annie were sitting in their normal seats, having shown up early to their “Study Group Fun-union,” as Annie called it, on the first day of class. They were talking, they were laughing, and then Annie got up and sat in the seat next to Jeff (which was wrong in of itself), giving him a kiss that went on three mississippis too long for it to be casual. Seriously. Shirley counted.
The rest of the study group knows all this because they arrived early, too. They saw everything - and as soon as Annie’s lips touched Jeff’s, Troy and Shirley let out matching, obnoxious high-pitched shrieks.
Jeff and Annie jumped apart as soon as they heard it, both looking half-crazed.
The group stepped inside, all five members - make that four; Abed is, well, Abed - wearing identical horrified expressions. “Hellooooo,” Shirley says, looking carefully at both of them. “I take it you had a good summer?”
Abed walks disinterestedly to his seat. Troy follows him, not once taking his eyes off Jeff. This causes a problem when Abed tries to pull out his chair and accidentally hits Troy in the hip, but it’s okay. Troy’s only down for a second. Then he’s right back up, his expression not changing once.
Pierce claps his hand on Jeff’s shoulder as he passes the younger man. “You know, Jeffrey, I did call dibs on her. I think this means you broke the Bro Code.” Pierce’s kind eyes suddenly grow hard. “I’ll put up with a lot, Jeff, but the one thing I cannot tolerate is someone who disrespects the Bro Code.”
Jeff blinks. “Um…I’m sorry, Pierce,” he says dryly, glancing at Annie. She just shakes her head at him, then gets up and sits in her regular seat.
Shirley sits down next to her, smiling warmly. Maybe a little too warmly. Annie looks just a tad uncomfortable.
Britta’s still frozen in the doorway. “How long has this been going on?” she asks.
Jeff blinks. “How long has what been going on?” he asks, making the bold decision to play stupid.
Britta glowers at him. “How long?”
This is the time when Jeff makes the awkward joke about his penis. It doesn’t get a laugh. Well, Annie smiles at him, but only a little.
Jeff half wishes that Annie would answer Britta and thus receive the bulk of her wrath, but he gets it. He has to be the one to tell her. “Since prom,” he says with a sigh.
Shirley’s eyes almost pop out of her head. “That was in May! You’ve been together for four months and you didn’t tell us?!”
“Well, we both -“ Jeff starts. Then something more pressing catches his attention. “Holy crap,” he says, turning to Annie. “It’s been four months?”
Annie nods, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Why isn’t she surprised by this? How did she manage to keep track of the time over the summer? The most Jeff could do was keep track how much time he had to get her off before her parents came home.
Britta moves to sit down, letting her books drop onto the table. “You’re old enough to be her father,” she says disgustedly to Jeff.
That seems to be just enough to sway the group. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Shirley snarls at Jeff.
“Dude, this is sick. This is like my dad and his girlfriend, but grosser.”
“This sort of relationship isn’t uncommon. It’s a popular topic of Lifetime movies -“
“Guys!” Annie interjects, her voice getting shrill. “Will you stop? I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself.”
Jeff nods along with her. He loves that Annie can take care of herself.
Crap. He’s got to stop using that word. Soon he might start to mean it - if he doesn’t already, that is.
i>Shit.
“We’ve been together all summer,” Annie continues, “and you guys saw us.” She turns to face the people on her left. “We were happy, so obviously, we’re fine. You guys just need to accept it - Jeff’s my boyfriend.”
If Jeff was a character on any black television show, he would ask, “Say whaaaaa?” But, because he’s a thirty-five-year-old ex-lawyer, he instead turns to Annie and exclaims, “The fuck?!”
V. five seconds after Jeff realized he really, really liked the sound of Annie referring to him as her boyfriend
It’s not like it’s the worst thing he’s ever done to ruin a relationship. And this wasn’t even on purpose, so, you know, he shouldn’t really feel that guilty.
But he does, because he’s never seen anyone look as sad as Annie does just then. It’s those doe eyes. They always make her expressions look so much more dramatic.
“Annie,” Jeff says gently, lowering his voice so only she can hear him. It doesn’t work. It’s a small table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like -“
Annie shakes her head. “No, Jeff, it’s - I shouldn’t have assumed that we - I mean - We were together every day over the summer. I just thought…”
Jeff glances at the other members of the study group, wishing they could have this conversation in private. “No, Annie, I’m not - I didn’t mean that. That was my…kneejerk asshole reaction. But I think…” Really, there’s no possible way they can talk about this in private? It’s absolutely essential that everyone’s here for this conversation? “I think I kinda like the idea of, erm, of being your boyfriend.”
Annie doesn’t look like she believes him. “Really?” she asks, sounding very much like a nineteen-year-old girl.
Jeff nods, and Annie breaks out in a near-blinding grin. He loves making her happy. He makes a mental pledge to never make her that upset again.
Briefly, it occurs to him that thinking that way, that seeing her hurt is almost painful for him, might be a sign of being in love.
Suddenly, it doesn’t seem so bad.
Jeff grabs his books and slides them to the left, then gets up and sits down in his new chair, right next to his girlfriend.
I. in his car on the way to dinner when he realizes there’s nothing to be scared of
It’s a Friday when he realizes that he couldn’t possibly be any happier. Well, okay, he’d like to be a lawyer again, and he still hasn’t fixed the driver’s side window in his Lexus, but other than that, his life’s pretty awesome. He’s doing well enough in all his classes, there are (currently, though this changes on an hourly basis) no problems with his study group, and things with Annie are pretty much perfect. You know, if Jeff were the kind of guy who described things as being “perfect”. Which, you know, he’s not.
But they haven’t had any problems since the day he freaked out at being called her boyfriend, and that was almost a month ago. They had to adapt their schedule now they’re back at Greendale - it’s impossible to spend every weekend together, but Jeff’s okay with that. Now he takes her out every Friday, like a good boyfriend should do. Now that Annie is officially his girlfriend, he’s going to treat her as such, and any girlfriend of Jeff Winger’s gets treated like she’s the most important person in the world (and it’s easy to treat Annie like that since, you know, she is).
So when they’re maybe halfway between her house and the restaurant and she turns to him and says, “My parents want to meet you,” his first thought isn’t to panic, like it has been in the past.
Instead, he threads his fingers through hers and says, “I love you,” as simply as if he had told her about the weather. Like it’s an undeniable fact of life.
Annie’s eyes light up. “I love you, too,” she responds just as casually.
Jeff grins at her, then turns his attention back to the road. So. This is what it feels like to be in love with Annie Edison, huh? Well - this isn’t so bad.
Author: office_bluth
Spoilers: Mentions of Debate 109 and Pascal's Triangle Revisited
Rating/Warnings: Things get a bit hairy later on. Let's call it PG-13.
Word Count: 2686
Author's Note: This is one of two fics I wrote while I should have been paying attention in school. I thank US History for being so boring and allowing my mind to wander.
Disclaimer: Community belongs to Dan Harmon and NBC. Unfortunately.
I. standing on a stage in a stupid sweater and a Britney Spears-esque microphone
It’s not even that she kissed him. Well - don’t get him wrong; he kinda loved that part. But that’s not even what it is. It’s just so…darkly manipulative of her. Winger-esque, even. Annie Edison is the only person who would kiss someone, both to win a debate at a community college where the prize is…well, nothing, really, except some misguided sense of self-worth, and to get a paraplegic dropped to the ground. It’s sick. It’s twisted. Jeff loves it. Loves her…?
He quickly dismisses that thought, but it’s terrifying that the word “love” popped into his head. He’s just gonna chalk it up to the fact that his whole day has been backwards. It wasn’t even just that he kissed Annie that was throwing him off. It was the fact that he wanted her that freaked him out so much, back in the study room, when she took down her hair and Jeff ran away - ran away. He actually ran from a girl. Holy crap. But it wasn’t just because she suddenly got hot (though, yeah, that totally was part of it). It was that he flat-out didn’t trust himself with her. Annie’s only eighteen - she’s much too young for, well, him. Jeff would never deny being skeezy, but he’s not a pervert. He’s well-aware that Annie is too young for him.
His rapid heartbeat and the memory of her pink lips on his will just…go away when his body and his mind get on the same page.
II. outside in the dark, with enough emotional problems to make Mischa Barton seem sane, and a hot girl holding onto him like she was on the Titanic and he’s her life preserver
Well. This isn’t exactly how his night was supposed to go.
It’s not like he was planning on ending the night with either Britta or Slater. Actually, he had planned on ending his night with Debbie - Little Debbie, that is. He bought a huge pack of Cosmic Brownies earlier at Sam’s Club, and they’ve been calling his name all day.
Though he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Annie’s better than Cosmic Brownies. Though it’s funny, he can’t help but think, how Annie’s similar to one. Both melt in his hands. Both are entirely too sweet. And, most importantly, both are very, very bad for him if consumed in large quantities, much like Troy and that giant cookie of his.
Er - not that he’s planning on eating Annie, or anything. Look, most of Jeff’s blood isn’t flowing to his brain at the moment. He can’t be held accountable for creating an imperfect metaphor.
He kisses her for what feels like hours, kisses her until he can’t remember his problems, let alone his own name. Then her bright doe eyes are looking at him, her lips parted and swollen.
“Jeff,” she says on an exhale. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He could definitely get used to this, he thinks - he wouldn’t mind getting to kiss Annie whenever he wanted, or hearing her whisper his name like that, or…
Crap - is that Britta? “I have to go,” he quickly tells Annie, pecking her on the lips before sprinting to his car, praying to every god in the universe that Britta will leave the rest of the windows of his Lexus intact.
III. in his bed, mere moments after having his mind blown by a 19-year-old sexually repressed girl with the mouth of a Hoover
Jesus fucking Christ.
Jeff isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure that he can’t move.
He tries lifting his arm, but he knows it’s gonna happen, even before the shooting pain hits him like he’s being stabbed in the elbow. Jesus Christ. He can’t move. Annie broke him. Annie Edison fucked him to death.
Well. At least he died doing what he loves.
Aw, crap. That came out wrong - now it could be interpreted as Jeff loving Annie. He didn’t mean that! He meant sex. Jeff loves sex. Not Annie. He hasn’t spent the vast majority of the last seventy-two hours in his bedroom with her because he loves Annie. It’s because he loves sex.
…And, yeah, okay. He’ll admit that, for the last two months, the time they’ve been sneaking around, he’s been unable to even fathom being with anyone else. But that’s not love. That’s…that’s…not wanting to mess up something good. Not violating a contract (albeit a contract sealed with tangled limbs and cool lips on hot skin).
It’s been like this ever since the prom. Jeff called Annie the next day to apologize for running away, and she suggested they go out to lunch. Lunch one day turned into dinner the next night, and so on, until about two weeks later when they had sex on his couch. No one knows - they have weekly dinners with Troy, Abed, and Pierce, and, well, they’re certainly not the best audience for Jeff and Annie to announce their - habit of sleeping together.
Because it’s not a relationship. It’s totally not. A relationship involves sex, which, okay, yes, is happening, but Annie only sleeps over Jeff’s on the weekends, which are pretty much filled with sex 24/7. But there needs to be more, too - there needs to be, like, actual dates outside the bedroom, which Jeff and Annie don’t do (aside from the weekly dinners at Pierce’s mansion and the other things they do with the study group. Except Britta. She called Jeff the day after prom to apologize and yell at him for kissing a random girl - thankfully, she couldn’t tell that it was Annie. Now she’s spending the summer in Colombia or Chad or somewhere else with a C that Jeff couldn’t find on a map if he tried). And, most importantly, there needs to be love, and that’s obviously not there.
Except maybe in times like this, when they’re lying in bed, their clothes thrown somewhere on the floor.
“Jesus,” Jeff says, voicing the only thought he’s had since he rolled off her. “I think I’m dead.”
He glances at her, seeing that she’s nodding emphatically. It’s always been like this. The first time they slept together was Annie’s second time ever, but holy God is she a quick learner. She’s just as enthusiastic and dogged in this regard as she is in school. Now she knows exactly how to roll her hips, or how a light flick of her tongue makes Jeff jump about a foot in the air.
He’s also found the benefits of sleeping with a 19-year-old girl. It’s like she’s never satisfied. Well - that’s not exactly true. Judging by the fact that she walks with a limp for two days after their weekends together, Jeff knows he’s doing a more-than-adequate job of satisfying her. She just never stops wanting. And, okay, she’s still her old repressed self in many ways - she still can’t say the name of anything they do, and shower sex is completely out, but she’s getting better. She says “condom” now, and she can give him a handjob without getting tremors in her hands.
But it’s not love. Even though they lock themselves into his apartment from 6 PM Friday to 11 AM Monday, and some nights during the week, they just cuddle on the couch and watch old black-and-white movies. But, um.
What was he saying?
Oh. Right. Yeah. He totally doesn’t love her.
Maybe.
IV. there’s a brunette in his arms, a disapproving glare from a self-righteous “feminist,” huge grins from the two token black members, and two smirks of varying levels of creepiness from the movie buff and the pervert
Well. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“How long?” Britta asks through gritted teeth.
“I’ve never measured, but I’d say six, seven inches,” Jeff responds with a quick glance down at his crotch.
That throws everyone for a moment.
Then Pierce steps forward to high five Jeff, and the reality of the situation hits everyone. Thirty seconds ago, Jeff and Annie were sitting in their normal seats, having shown up early to their “Study Group Fun-union,” as Annie called it, on the first day of class. They were talking, they were laughing, and then Annie got up and sat in the seat next to Jeff (which was wrong in of itself), giving him a kiss that went on three mississippis too long for it to be casual. Seriously. Shirley counted.
The rest of the study group knows all this because they arrived early, too. They saw everything - and as soon as Annie’s lips touched Jeff’s, Troy and Shirley let out matching, obnoxious high-pitched shrieks.
Jeff and Annie jumped apart as soon as they heard it, both looking half-crazed.
The group stepped inside, all five members - make that four; Abed is, well, Abed - wearing identical horrified expressions. “Hellooooo,” Shirley says, looking carefully at both of them. “I take it you had a good summer?”
Abed walks disinterestedly to his seat. Troy follows him, not once taking his eyes off Jeff. This causes a problem when Abed tries to pull out his chair and accidentally hits Troy in the hip, but it’s okay. Troy’s only down for a second. Then he’s right back up, his expression not changing once.
Pierce claps his hand on Jeff’s shoulder as he passes the younger man. “You know, Jeffrey, I did call dibs on her. I think this means you broke the Bro Code.” Pierce’s kind eyes suddenly grow hard. “I’ll put up with a lot, Jeff, but the one thing I cannot tolerate is someone who disrespects the Bro Code.”
Jeff blinks. “Um…I’m sorry, Pierce,” he says dryly, glancing at Annie. She just shakes her head at him, then gets up and sits in her regular seat.
Shirley sits down next to her, smiling warmly. Maybe a little too warmly. Annie looks just a tad uncomfortable.
Britta’s still frozen in the doorway. “How long has this been going on?” she asks.
Jeff blinks. “How long has what been going on?” he asks, making the bold decision to play stupid.
Britta glowers at him. “How long?”
This is the time when Jeff makes the awkward joke about his penis. It doesn’t get a laugh. Well, Annie smiles at him, but only a little.
Jeff half wishes that Annie would answer Britta and thus receive the bulk of her wrath, but he gets it. He has to be the one to tell her. “Since prom,” he says with a sigh.
Shirley’s eyes almost pop out of her head. “That was in May! You’ve been together for four months and you didn’t tell us?!”
“Well, we both -“ Jeff starts. Then something more pressing catches his attention. “Holy crap,” he says, turning to Annie. “It’s been four months?”
Annie nods, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Why isn’t she surprised by this? How did she manage to keep track of the time over the summer? The most Jeff could do was keep track how much time he had to get her off before her parents came home.
Britta moves to sit down, letting her books drop onto the table. “You’re old enough to be her father,” she says disgustedly to Jeff.
That seems to be just enough to sway the group. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Shirley snarls at Jeff.
“Dude, this is sick. This is like my dad and his girlfriend, but grosser.”
“This sort of relationship isn’t uncommon. It’s a popular topic of Lifetime movies -“
“Guys!” Annie interjects, her voice getting shrill. “Will you stop? I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself.”
Jeff nods along with her. He loves that Annie can take care of herself.
Crap. He’s got to stop using that word. Soon he might start to mean it - if he doesn’t already, that is.
i>Shit.
“We’ve been together all summer,” Annie continues, “and you guys saw us.” She turns to face the people on her left. “We were happy, so obviously, we’re fine. You guys just need to accept it - Jeff’s my boyfriend.”
If Jeff was a character on any black television show, he would ask, “Say whaaaaa?” But, because he’s a thirty-five-year-old ex-lawyer, he instead turns to Annie and exclaims, “The fuck?!”
V. five seconds after Jeff realized he really, really liked the sound of Annie referring to him as her boyfriend
It’s not like it’s the worst thing he’s ever done to ruin a relationship. And this wasn’t even on purpose, so, you know, he shouldn’t really feel that guilty.
But he does, because he’s never seen anyone look as sad as Annie does just then. It’s those doe eyes. They always make her expressions look so much more dramatic.
“Annie,” Jeff says gently, lowering his voice so only she can hear him. It doesn’t work. It’s a small table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like -“
Annie shakes her head. “No, Jeff, it’s - I shouldn’t have assumed that we - I mean - We were together every day over the summer. I just thought…”
Jeff glances at the other members of the study group, wishing they could have this conversation in private. “No, Annie, I’m not - I didn’t mean that. That was my…kneejerk asshole reaction. But I think…” Really, there’s no possible way they can talk about this in private? It’s absolutely essential that everyone’s here for this conversation? “I think I kinda like the idea of, erm, of being your boyfriend.”
Annie doesn’t look like she believes him. “Really?” she asks, sounding very much like a nineteen-year-old girl.
Jeff nods, and Annie breaks out in a near-blinding grin. He loves making her happy. He makes a mental pledge to never make her that upset again.
Briefly, it occurs to him that thinking that way, that seeing her hurt is almost painful for him, might be a sign of being in love.
Suddenly, it doesn’t seem so bad.
Jeff grabs his books and slides them to the left, then gets up and sits down in his new chair, right next to his girlfriend.
I. in his car on the way to dinner when he realizes there’s nothing to be scared of
It’s a Friday when he realizes that he couldn’t possibly be any happier. Well, okay, he’d like to be a lawyer again, and he still hasn’t fixed the driver’s side window in his Lexus, but other than that, his life’s pretty awesome. He’s doing well enough in all his classes, there are (currently, though this changes on an hourly basis) no problems with his study group, and things with Annie are pretty much perfect. You know, if Jeff were the kind of guy who described things as being “perfect”. Which, you know, he’s not.
But they haven’t had any problems since the day he freaked out at being called her boyfriend, and that was almost a month ago. They had to adapt their schedule now they’re back at Greendale - it’s impossible to spend every weekend together, but Jeff’s okay with that. Now he takes her out every Friday, like a good boyfriend should do. Now that Annie is officially his girlfriend, he’s going to treat her as such, and any girlfriend of Jeff Winger’s gets treated like she’s the most important person in the world (and it’s easy to treat Annie like that since, you know, she is).
So when they’re maybe halfway between her house and the restaurant and she turns to him and says, “My parents want to meet you,” his first thought isn’t to panic, like it has been in the past.
Instead, he threads his fingers through hers and says, “I love you,” as simply as if he had told her about the weather. Like it’s an undeniable fact of life.
Annie’s eyes light up. “I love you, too,” she responds just as casually.
Jeff grins at her, then turns his attention back to the road. So. This is what it feels like to be in love with Annie Edison, huh? Well - this isn’t so bad.