Perfect Boyfriend Guidebook

by Captain_Lisa

Summary:

For some time now, Marco has stopped sleeping alone.

Ace has slipped into his daily life as though he had always belonged there. A gentle, reassuring, almost indispensable presence. Everything seems simple. Natural. Perfect.

So why does this persistent doubt remain ?

Why this vague feeling that something is slipping through his fingers ?

Ace smiles, kisses him, stays...

But sometimes, he is elsewhere. Distant. Elusive.

And Marco watches. Analyses. Overthinks.

Until he reaches a conclusion impossible to ignore :

What if the problem is him ?

Caught in a spiral of doubts and silences, Marco tries to preserve a fragile balance, at the risk of losing himself in the process.

Fortunately, Satch has a solution.

A book.

Simple. Clear. Foolproof, apparently.

"100 Ways to Please the One Your Heart Has Chosen."

The perfect boyfriend's guide, basically.

All he has to do is follow the steps.
One by one.
Without getting it wrong.

After all...

Loving someone properly must be something you can learn.

Right ?

Notes:

Welcome aboard the Moby Dick !

Before we begin, a few little important notes !

⚠️ Please read these little warnings carefully ! ⚠️

This story is told entirely from Marco's point of view. You will therefore discover the events through his eyes, his thoughts, his memories and, above all, his rather particular way of interpreting what surrounds him.

What you are reading here corresponds to what he sees, what he understands and, most importantly, what he thinks he understands. It is therefore not necessarily an objective representation of events, nor an absolute truth about what the other characters think or feel.

After all, when you spend so much time inside someone's head, you sometimes have to wonder whether you can really trust them.

But I'll let you decide that for yourselves.

To accompany this story, a mirror book, this time told from Ace's point of view, is also planned. It will allow you to discover the story from another perspective, with another perception of events... Not objective at all either, sorry.

Because a story isn't always exactly the same depending on the person telling it.

A few words also concerning the cover and the illustrations. These are personal creations made by me, for this book. Please do not reuse, modify, republish or use them for another project without my permission.

If you enjoyed the world of this book and would like to discover more of my One Piece illustrations, you can also find my drawings on my Instagram account : @captain.lisart

I regularly share my illustrations and various projects inspired by the world that has been a part of my life for a long time.

This story deals with themes such as communication within a relationship (you'll see, between you and me, it's pretty bloody awful), anxiety, lack of self-confidence... It also talks, more simply, about what it means to learn how to love someone.

The story contains reflections on behaviours which can become excessive, even toxic, when they are driven by insecurity or fear of losing someone. The intention is not to present perfect characters, role models to follow, nor to systematically point the finger at a culprit, but rather to show two people who love each other and who can nevertheless hurt each other, make mistakes and struggle to understand one another.

And just a little clarification to avoid any confusion : despite the little lemon emojis accompanying the epilogue, this book contains no explicit sexual scenes. The lemon is therefore not a "lemon" warning in the fanfiction sense of the term 🍋 You'll have to look elsewhere for that, sorry ! (Not that I don't want to write explicit scenes in general, but I simply wasn't particularly in the mood to 😅)

Finally, I would like to remind you (once again, I really do insist on this) that, like any first-person narration, the narrator's perspective is necessarily subjective : his interpretations, his worries and his perception of events belong to him. Everything he thinks or feels is therefore not an objective truth. The reader is free, and even encouraged, to question some of his conclusions.

The original language of this story is French. Please don't hold it against me if the translation is a bit rough around the edges ^^' I tried to give some of the characters different varieties of English, so I hope I managed to pull that mess off properly😭

(First time actually posting on AO3 (kinda nervous 💅)... It was time for me to get tf out of wattpad ;-;)

And now, it is probably time to let Marco tell you his story...

Enjoy your reading 🌺

_🌺_

~Book Contents~

🌺 Chapter 1 :

The Book

🌺 Chapter 2 :

The Flowers

🌺 Chapter 3 :

The Habits

🌺 Chapter 4 :

The Bracelet

🌺 Chapter 5 :

The Menu

🌺 Chapter 6 :

The Magazine

🌺 Chapter 7 :

The Funfair

🌺 Chapter 8 :

The Restaurant

🌺 Chapter 9 :

The Best Friend

🌺 Chapter 10 :

Learning to Love

 

~Epilogue~

🍋 Part 1 :

The Motherfucking Morning

🍋 Part 2 :

The Goddamned Afternoon

🍋 Part 3 :

The Freaking Evening

 

Enjoy your reading 🌺❤️

Chapter 1: 🌺 The Book 🌺

For some time now, a new softness has made its way into my bed.

A constant, familiar warmth that wasn't there before. And that I have eventually found myself unable to do without.

I wake up with it every morning.

Today, too.

My eyes barely open in the darkness, motionless. I am aware of the presence against me before I even move. It is there, obvious, quiet, as though it had always existed.

Ace is asleep.

His head rests against my shoulder, slightly tilted. His messy black hair tickling my cheek with every breath.

His arm is resting over me without any real intention, a loose embrace, almost unconscious. He isn't really holding me, but he isn't letting me go either.

I remain still.

I could go back to sleep.

I don't.

I would rather watch him.

I've been doing that often, lately.

Perhaps too often.

In sleep, Ace is simple.

His features are smooth, stripped of that strange distance he sometimes carries when he is awake.

His breathing is steady, deep. He looks peaceful. Accessible.

Close.

I let my gaze linger on useless details.

The sleepy curve still marked at the corner of his lips, the shadow of his lashes on his skin, the diffuse warmth spreading wherever our bodies touch.

Everything seems to be in its place.

Everything is calm.

Everything is fine.

It's perfect.

Most of the time.

I think.

I'm not sure.

A slight unease begins to invade my thoughts.

My gaze drifts into the distance for a moment.

It's nothing precise. Nothing concrete. Just a feeling.

A bad feeling.

Ace is sometimes difficult to read.

Not always. Not entirely. But enough for things to slip past me.

Enough that, at times, I get the feeling that I'm not quite with him, even when he's against me.

I could be mistaken.

I probably am.

I'm often mistaken when it comes to this sort of thing.

I lower my eyes slightly towards him.

He moves.

A small movement, almost imperceptible. His fingers tighten slightly around me, as though he were clinging to something in his sleep. His brows furrow ever so slightly, then relax.

I hold my breath without realising it.

His eyelids flutter.

Then he opens his eyes.

It takes him a moment to emerge, his gaze blurry, still caught on the remnants of sleep. He stares at the ceiling, then slowly turns his head towards me.

Our eyes meet.

And he smiles.

It's slight. A little awkward. Still half asleep.

But it's there.

Something inside me relaxes, almost immediately.

I murmur :

"Hey..."

Yawning, he barely grunts, his voice hoarse :

"Mmh... Hey..."

He sits up slightly, without really leaving my side, and kisses me.

It's brief.

Natural.

Without hesitation.

Then he lets himself fall back against me as though nothing had happened, his eyes already half closed.

I remain still for a moment.

Then I let out a quiet breath.

Perhaps I'm imagining things.

I let my hand slip through his hair.

We whisper a few trivial things to each other, linger in bed for a while.

And then we eventually get up.

The transition happens without a hitch, almost silently.

The movements follow one another with a reassuring ease, as though they had found their place on their own over time.

Ace dawdles a little. He runs a hand through his hair, then over his face, still marked by sleep. His movements are slow, imprecise.

As we make our way to the cafeteria, he yawns without trying to hide it, then leans against the counter whilst I pour us some coffee.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

Again.

It's become a reflex.

He's there, only a few yards away from me, present, tangible. And yet something still escapes me.

Ace is talking with Izou.

I'm not really listening to them.

He briefly looks up at me.

Our eyes meet.

He gives me a small smile.

Then looks away almost immediately.

I place the cup in front of him a little too carefully.

I ask him :

"Do you want something to eat ?"

He shrugs slightly.

"M'yeah. I'm hungry."

I nod.

I grab some pastries, a few pieces of fruit.

I pay attention to details that probably don't matter at all.

I search.

I don't know what for, exactly.

When I turn around, Izou has left.

Ace has settled at a table near the window.

I join him.

When I place the plate in front of him, he looks up at me.

"Thanks a lot."

His voice is sincere.

His smile is too.

But it's brief.

He immediately lowers his eyes to his plate and starts eating.

I sit opposite him.

The silence stretches gently.

It isn't unpleasant.

Not really.

Ace looks up for a second, meets my gaze, then gives me another smaller smile, almost embarrassed, before returning to his meal.

I remain still.

I watch.

I analyse.

Perhaps he's simply like that.

Reserved.

Awkward.

Perhaps I should be content with that.

And yet...

I lower my eyes towards my cup.

Something doesn't add up.

A vague, persistent feeling. A disconnect I can't put a name to.

As though I'm missing something.

As though I'm not doing enough.

My fingers tighten slightly around the still-warm ceramic.

I could do better.

I should do better.

I raise my eyes towards him.

Ace eats quietly, unaware of everything running through my mind.

And a thought settles in, silent but stubborn.

I don't want to get this wrong.

I can't get this wrong.

Not with him.

I have to fix this.

Ace finishes eating without hurrying.

I watch him do it without really realising it, my fingers still curled around my lukewarm cup. He swallows his last mouthfuls, absently wipes his lips with his fingertips, then pushes his plate away slightly.

A silence.

Then he stands.

I barely look up.

He walks around the table and comes towards me. Close enough for me to feel his presence. Then Ace leans down slightly, just above my shoulder.

His voice is low.

"See ya later ?"

I nod almost immediately.

"Yeah."

I smile.

A reflex.

He stays for a second.

Just one.

Then he straightens up.

And leaves.

Not another word.

Not a kiss.

Not a gesture.

Not even a glance back.

I follow him with my eyes as he crosses the common room, walks away, and disappears through the door.

The silence returns.

Heavier this time.

I stay like that for a few seconds.

Then I let myself drop heavily against the table, letting out a sigh far too loud to be discreet.

It's complicated...

Ridiculously bloody complicated.

I knock my forehead against the wood.

What exactly am I supposed to do ?

What does he expect ?

What is he thinking ?

My fingers slowly turn around my cup.

The coffee is almost cold.

I mutter to myself :

"Fuck... I don't know what to do..."

I straighten up a little, ready to finish what's left in the cup.

And freeze.

Satch is sitting opposite me.

For God knows how long.

Sitting comfortably, his legs crossed, a cup of tea between his hands, as though all of this were perfectly normal. He gently blows on the still-steaming surface before taking a sip, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I blink.

Once.

Twice.

"Uh... How long you been there ?"

He calmly puts his cup down.

Then leans slightly towards me.

He asks, his voice soft, almost conspiratorial :

"So... Somethin' wrong, lil' buddy ?"

I stare at him.

A little caught off guard.

He leans in a little further.

His eyes are sparkling.

"Is the Matchstick what's got you all wound up ?"

I let my head fall back with an irritated groan.

I grumble :

"I can't get anything right... I don't understand what's wrong."

The ceiling isn't helping me any more than he is.

Satch asks me, with an almost irritating calm :

"What's the problem ?"

I shrug vaguely.

"I don't know..."

I straighten my head, frowning.

"I just feel like... Like something's missing."

The words come out with difficulty.

"Like he's not... I mean... Satisfied ? I don't know..."

I purse my lips slightly.

"...And it's stressing me out."

I exhale, quieter :

"Because I can't afford to lose him..."

Silence falls again for a second.

Satch stares at me without saying anything. His smirk annoys me, but somehow invites me to keep going. So I add :

"I want to do things right... But it's... It's complicated with him."

I lower my eyes towards the table.

"I can't figure out what he wants. What... What he's thinking."

A quiet laugh makes me look up.

Satch chuckles.

Softly.

As though he'd just heard something amusing.

Very amusing, even.

He murmurs :

"I noticed things have been a little... Stiff between y'all."

He rummages through his pocket with perfectly calculated slowness.

Then pulls out an object.

Which he places in front of me.

A book.

I lower my eyes to it.

"100 Ways to Please the One Your Heart Has Chosen."

I frown.

Satch leans back against his chair, visibly pleased with himself.

"...So, I bought ya this."

He shrugs slightly.

"Maybe it'll give ya some ideas."

I look up at him.

Immediate suspicion. I mutter :

"Where the hell'd you buy that ?"

Some very shady shop, I'm sure of it.

His grin widens.

I narrow my eyes.

Yeah.

Shady.

Very shady.

I look back at the book and sigh.

"A book won't help me..."

Satch shrug.

"You could try."

I look up at him.

His expression is far too serious to be honest.

And it annoys me.

But...

I look back at the book.

My fingers brush over the cover.

What've I got to lose, really ?

I pick it up to open it.

The pages slide beneath my fingers.

I quickly skim a few lines.

"On certain occasions, remember to offer flowers."

I turn the page.

"Don't hesitate to compliment your partner's qualities."

I stop.

Read it again.

It's...

Logical ?

Simple.

Obvious, even.

I turn another page.

"Show your affection through small daily gestures."

I close the book slightly, thoughtful.

Maybe...

Maybe this is my problem.

Maybe I'm missing simple things.

Maybe I'm not doing enough.

Maybe I'm doing it wrong.

I shrug vaguely.

"....M'yeah."

Satch watches me without saying anything.

I open the book again.

I read more carefully this time.

The lines pass before my eyes, but my mind latches onto them.

Analyses.

Sorts.

Remembers.

If it's written down, there must be a reason.

If it works for other people...

Then it can work for me.

I tighten my grip on the book slightly.

I'm going to try.

I have to try.