Like Lovers Do

Dave Yern may have looked the part of an oblivious idiot, but had it really occurred to anyone that his attitude was purposeful?

He wasn't ignorant to the sudden changes of his best friend's behavior - he was aware and prepared for the inevitable, upcoming war. Though Dave perfectly played the part of an ignorant fool, he was the exact opposite and only one of his four closest friends knew. If he didn't know Anderson longer, he would actually consider her as his best friend.

Guinevere "Gwen" Stuart; the woman he proclaimed the love of his life and his best female friend. She was beautiful, kind, the type of girl you could take home to mom and she could still be your greatest ally.

Dave's heart would thump erratically at the mere mention of the older woman's name. She wasn't too old - no, she wasn't old at all. Freshly nineteen and in her first year of college. Putting aside the insignificant age difference - it was only by one year anyways - he would constantly fantasize about her honey locks that curled at the ends of her shoulder.

He faintly recalled a cherished memory: her, at the age of fifteen, hair had gotten long enough to donate and still hold a feminine trait. The cut was to her shoulders and consequently, curled at the ends. She hated it because her grandmother made a joke about it reminding her of a 60's hairstyle she got that was quite similar.

"I think it looks cute." The words echoed in his mind.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Kinda gives you a punker girl look."

At that moment, Dave realized he had to marry her.

Possibly have two children (names; they would consider that later), and live happily in their average sized home. He was, what you call, obsessed with this idea, in love with. Fanatic about his own fantasy.

But nowhere in the story was his bride-to-be supposed to be engaged to someone else.