Why You Should Never Live With A Romantic Hero

Sigh. Romantic heroes. They’re so bad, they’re good. They’re angry, but nobody else will ever love you the way they do. They’re filthy rich, tragically broken, and only YOU can fix them. What it would be, to live with a romantic hero! Sheer heaven. Sigh.

But what really happens after ‘The End’? When dietary fibre and la vie quotidienne get in the way? What would it really be like to live with a tortured romantic hero? Especially if you’re – well, kind of an ordinary person?

(This is another in the Why You Should Never Live With… series. Unreliable Narrator here. Chick-Lit Heroine here. Cop From A Crime Novel here. Young Adult Protagonist here. Literary Fiction Hero here. But now it’s time to get smoochy, folks.)

Why You Should Never Live With A Romantic Hero

*********************************

It’s late. You’re in your pyjamas, watching an underwritten TV show about a helpless yet defiant 22-year-old woman who’s been hurt before. It’s been a long day at work, where you do something vague in administration or marketing, and you’re looking forward to a good night’s sleep.

The front door opens. There is a deep sigh from the hallway, and the unmistakeable yet improbable sound of someone raking their hands through their hair in mental anguish.

You wait for a moment, and tortured steps make their way through the hall and into the living room.

Romantic Hero is home.

He casts his eyes about the living room wildly until they settle on you, which is frankly a bit odd because it’s not really a very big living room and you’re pretty much the only noticeable thing in it due to the fact that you’re wearing your neon yellow silk moose pyjamas, but still, he spots you eventually, pinning you with his steely gaze.

Romantic Hero: You’re here. I didn’t know if you would be here.

You: Hi, babe. Course I’m here. Why wouldn’t I be?

Romantic Hero: When I came in the door I— I—I didn’t dare hope.

You: Hope what? Hey, are you hungry? I was going to make a grilled cheese sandwich. I probably shouldn’t be eating cheese at this hour, but I’m feeling naughty.

[Romantic Hero comes to the sofa and kneels down in front of you, clasping your hands, which is a bit awkward because you’re holding the TV remote, but hey]

Romantic Hero: I couldn’t concentrate at work today. My similarly rich and good-looking lawyer friend is beginning to suspect something’s wrong.

You: [smiling indulgently] Well, you are impossibly handsome, with your chiselled jaw and freakishly full lower lip and thick dark eyelashes and quick-growing stubble and short hair that is still somehow always described in terms that would suit a longer style. I’m sure he’ll forget about it and everything will be fine tomorrow. Now, about that cheese…

Romantic Hero: [stroking one hand down your cheek and cupping your chin, which, if you’re honest about it, doesn’t feel comfortable, being that close to your windpipe] In my mind’s eye all I could see was the image of you, yesterday, in front of that car – your fragile beauty almost taken from me –

You: Ah, babe, hold on now a second. It was a pedestrian crossing, and the car had already stopped at a red light. You’re going to have to let that go.

Why You Should Never Live With A Romantic Hero

Romantic Hero: And I couldn’t breathe. When I think of losing you—I can’t breathe.

You: I don’t know why I bother picking up your inhaler prescriptions for you when you refuse to carry one. You know you have asthma, right?

Romantic Hero: [Standing up abruptly, his hands in the pockets of his expensive well-cut suit, which is unfortunately shiny on the knees from all the kneeling down he does] I can’t do this.

You: Do what? Eat?

Romantic Hero: [pacing the room and throwing his jacket off, unaware that his powerful shoulders have ripped right through the seams of his designer shirt] This. Us. I can’t function when I feel this exposed.

You: You do seem to have a problem with keeping your shirt on, to be fair.

Romantic Hero: I lost a big business deal today.

You: But didn’t you make six hundred million euros last week?

Romantic Hero: [his glittering black eyes boring bleakly into your soul] Yes, but

You: And you said you closed seven big business deals just this week, each of them incredibly successful albeit vague except for the fact that they seem to have something to do with property in Italy, Greece, and some made-up place in the Middle East.

Romantic Hero: Money doesn’t matter to me. Nothing means anything to me anymore. I’m a broken man, because of you.

You: [frowning] What the hell? Why are you blaming me?

Romantic Hero: You’ve turned my life upside down.

Why You Should Never Live With A Romantic Hero

You: I beg your pardon. Who was the person who finally got you sleeping after fourteen years of agonising insomnia? Me! Who did you say was the first person to ever make you feel like you had a stable, happy home? Me! Who murdered the evil father who made you believe you were incapable of love? Me, that’s who!

Romantic Hero: It’s not enough. It doesn’t help me with my hunger.

You: I don’t know how many different ways I can offer you a cheese sandwich, I really don’t. But that’s literally all we have in the kitchen.

Romantic Hero: [stepping closer—growling gutturally] You’re driving me crazy. My hunger is for YOU. Don’t you understand?

You: Look, if you want a frenzied tumble on the rug, you’re kind of going about it the wrong way, given that you sounded like you were breaking up with me a minute ago.

Romantic Hero: [pulling you up from the couch into his arms] I need you. I’ve never needed anything more in my life.

You: That’s nice.

Romantic Hero: [kissing and licking you in mad places all over your face] Say you’ll stay with me forever.

You: Okay, okay! Anything to stop the drama.

Romantic Hero: Will you come to bed with me, my love? Exorcise my demons with your body?

You: Fine. But THEN can I make my sandwich?

THE END

*****************************

Well, that’s it. Camembert calls.

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  86 comments for “Why You Should Never Live With A Romantic Hero

  1. Mel Pete
    January 31, 2017 at 7:30 am

    Haha! Love!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. January 31, 2017 at 7:35 am

    So funny. Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. January 31, 2017 at 9:54 am

    Ugh, the rash on my face from his stubble!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. January 31, 2017 at 10:36 am

    Lol give me camembert anyday…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. January 31, 2017 at 10:47 am

    A post that made me laugh and hungry – it’s all there. Bravo.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. January 31, 2017 at 12:16 pm

    What I would give to rip a seam. At the shoulder, at the pelvis, the ankle, anywhere. But no- Exoskeleton Man can only wear holes at the elbows and heels, and you can just guess how many women that’s charmed into my embrace.

    I will never understand a woman who needs short hair on her man- can I just admit that? I’m styling the aging-Fabio look myself (shoulder length and grey. And beneath it, the physique of a number 2 pencil). So I can quip “I’m a man of the nineties. Of course, I mean the twelve-nineties…” yeah, not even funny when I type it out.

    Liked by 1 person

    • January 31, 2017 at 2:12 pm

      I’m not sure whether it’s a matter of what people actually like, Will. There are very strict rules for romance writers from what I can see and somebody somewhere decrees that men’s hair must be short, women’s long. But that’s got about as much relevance to real life as neon yellow moose pyjamas, if you ask me. Ripped or not 😉

      Liked by 1 person

  7. January 31, 2017 at 1:27 pm

    Oh Tara. Oh, darlin. It’s just so…wait for it…cheesy.
    One of the best!

    Liked by 2 people

    • January 31, 2017 at 2:12 pm

      He’s exhausted me already, Melodie, and I made him up.

      Like

  8. January 31, 2017 at 2:07 pm

    Ha ha – each of these is better than the previous ones! I think this is my favorite so far 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    • January 31, 2017 at 2:13 pm

      Thanks Nick. Of course, all resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental, etc

      Liked by 1 person

      • February 1, 2017 at 10:44 am

        Oh! And I thought you based her on me, given my love of grilled cheese toasties. Mmm, toasties…

        Liked by 1 person

        • February 1, 2017 at 11:18 am

          I think publishers are missing a trick, I really do. I gave people a choice between a gorgeous specimen of tortured manhood and a cheese sandwich, and the toastie has swept the boards. Do you think I should tell them?

          Liked by 1 person

          • February 1, 2017 at 6:52 pm

            Don’t be silly. They’ll find out when you publish your memoir, “Life with Cheese” and break the charts. Sadly, you’re bound to lose all of your fortune in an unfortunate Camembert orchard investment, after someone convinces you that the best cheese does, indeed, grow on trees.

            Liked by 1 person

            • February 2, 2017 at 9:55 am

              As predictions go, it’s not the worst. I’ll take it.

              Liked by 1 person

              • February 2, 2017 at 10:53 am

                That’s great. When would you like to visit my Cheddar orchard? Sadly, I’m planning on selling it for personal reasons (my cat is lactose intolerant). I hear it makes for a lovely investment, though. Perhaps you or a certain fabulous couple might be interested?

                Liked by 1 person

                • February 2, 2017 at 11:40 am

                  I think I’ll send the fearsome twosome in to negotiate on my behalf. I doubt there’s any holes in your offer, but apparently they’re quite good in these matters.

                  Liked by 1 person

                  • February 2, 2017 at 1:21 pm

                    While they’re here, I may introduce them to a Nigerian friend of mine – a prince, no less. Apparently, he’s got quite the opportunity lined up.

                    Liked by 1 person

                    • February 2, 2017 at 2:56 pm

                      Excellent. I’ll sell tickets. I’ve seen how they handle royalty.

                      Liked by 1 person

          • February 19, 2017 at 6:51 pm

            Publishers would take a cheese toastie – but only in the kind of scenario where the hero takes the impossibly aristocratic heroine to a burger van for dinner – you know, like Warren Beatty in Heaven Can Wait. It’s always got to be the hero laying down the law on dinner, which is another reason not to live with one. Heroines should just go for the two pages of great sex in chapter six and then tiptoe off. I wonder what would happen if she was in her jammies with her new tortured lover, when the old one came home?

            Liked by 1 person

            • February 20, 2017 at 9:39 am

              Presumably if her new tortured lover was worth his or her salt, she wouldn’t still be in her jammies at all, no?

              And ooh! So it’s always chapter six? I did not know that. Every book should have a romantic or erotic easter egg in chapter six from now on. It’ll be a hoot in the conservative manifestos.

              Like

              • February 26, 2017 at 6:37 pm

                When I say Jammies, of course they will be delicate lace trimmed silk affairs which she is wearing under a poorly tied peignoir.
                It’s not always chapter six. it can be earlier if they’re then going to have a serious misunderstanding which takes nearly all of the book to clear up. It can be later if she suddenly takes it into her head that the pregnant housekeeper is really his mistress (and not of course his dead brother’s fiancee) and holds him off, without telling him why, of course, until the end of chapter eight.

                Liked by 1 person

                • February 26, 2017 at 9:34 pm

                  You couldn’t possibly be suggesting that these are written to a formula, Elaine. Could you?

                  Liked by 1 person

  9. January 31, 2017 at 4:31 pm

    And I thought Heathcliff was high maintenance… 😛 LOL!!! 😀

    Liked by 2 people

  10. January 31, 2017 at 4:51 pm

    Ha ha ha. Oh the drama. Nice one, Tara. 50 Shades of Annoying when you just want a grilled cheese sandwich and a mindless episode of The Walking Dead. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • January 31, 2017 at 9:49 pm

      I beg your pardon. The Walking Dead is the closest thing we have to social psychology at the moment, Diana. You take that back!
      Oh, dear. Now I’m hungry again.

      Liked by 1 person

  11. January 31, 2017 at 7:07 pm

    Excellent – it’s the way you tell ’em.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. January 31, 2017 at 8:54 pm

    This cracked me up so much! Especially: “unaware that his powerful shoulders have ripped right through the seams of his designer shirt.” 😆 😆 😆

    Liked by 1 person

  13. January 31, 2017 at 10:09 pm

    You have so much more class than me Sparling. I had a picture of a cheddar sandwich in my mind’s eye, all the way to the last line. I suspect I couldn’t live with this guy either. The mere mention of a toastie would put all else out of my mind.

    Liked by 1 person

    • January 31, 2017 at 11:09 pm

      Excellent! Can I call myself a food blogger now? Pleeeeeease?

      Liked by 1 person

      • February 1, 2017 at 7:10 am

        You are at least a honorary food blogger by this stage. Post the sandwich. That will copper fasten it.

        Liked by 1 person

  14. January 31, 2017 at 11:42 pm

    Hilarious :0)

    Liked by 1 person

  15. February 1, 2017 at 7:29 am

    Goodness me – I was exhausted just reading this! Haha. Spot on as usual 😆

    Liked by 1 person

  16. February 1, 2017 at 10:34 am

    Oh God that’s brilliant! The drama, I just couldn’t cope. And all I can think about is a cheese sandwich. Give me a cheese sandwich anyday.

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 1, 2017 at 11:16 am

      Agreed. A cheese sandwich will never walk out on you or attempt to systematically dismantle you because of a stupid misunderstanding, Donna. I can testify to that.

      Liked by 1 person

  17. February 1, 2017 at 1:04 pm

    You clearly need to send him here.. https://youtu.be/uT3OQECSDoQ

    Liked by 1 person

  18. February 1, 2017 at 8:30 pm

    I’m now actually craving cheese… you can keep the hero.

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 2, 2017 at 9:50 am

      This is turning into a pattern. I think I’ve invented bestseller cheese. I’m going to be rich.

      Like

  19. February 2, 2017 at 8:01 am

    I think this is your best yet, Tara – though that may be because it seems so eerily realistic to me. Have you got cameras set up at my house again?

    Liked by 1 person

  20. February 3, 2017 at 3:04 pm

    On 25th January we commemorated Rabbie Burns. Great lover, but hardly a great hero, though if you count his poetry and his recording of old songs in danger of being lost, then maybe he is. But living with him must have been a nightmare. Living with any ‘hero’ must become tiresome, whether trying to dismiss their growing ego, or dealing with your own diminishing feeling of self worth when comparing yourself to them. So I’ll settle for the more mundane guy who treats me as part of a team – him and me and our family. That’ll do fine.

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 3, 2017 at 3:16 pm

      Well, Dorothy, it’s not like I’m exactly being given a choice or anything – there aren’t any romantic heroes sobbing outside my door right now, quoting Burns or anyone else. All the same I’m inclined to agree with you.

      Like

  21. February 4, 2017 at 10:37 am

    I recognised similar traits in the way dogs behave with their owners and whent the face licking started I knew I was right. It’s horrible. The best argument yet for keeping turtles as pets.

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 4, 2017 at 10:25 pm

      You turtle lovers are all the same, Chris. Explains why there aren’t so many movies about you.

      Liked by 1 person

  22. February 4, 2017 at 10:57 pm

    How lucky was she?
    Reminds me of some of the girls I worked with who went out with some of the most obnoxious doctors just because they were doctors. Be careful what you wish for. (Disclaimer…not all the doctors were romantic heroes)

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 5, 2017 at 12:34 pm

      No way Tric! You mean not all doctors are burdened by the weight of saving the world whilst simultaneously groaning with love for you? I want a refund on my health insurance immediately. I’m gutted and no surgeon can help me.

      Like

  23. February 5, 2017 at 10:40 am

    Reblogged this on Nicholas C. Rossis and commented:
    This is so funny I just had to share!

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Gwen Plano
    February 5, 2017 at 11:04 am

    Great writing…and so hilarious! Loved it…

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 5, 2017 at 12:37 pm

      Thanks, Gwen. Much appreciated. Romantic hero appreciates it too. So much so in fact, it hurts. 😉

      Like

  25. February 5, 2017 at 1:16 pm

    Reblogged this on The Write Stuff and commented:
    I’ve always said I love an angst-ridden tortured man–in BOOKS–believing that those I’ve met in real life would be far more trouble than they’re worth. This hilarious post just proves how right I am! Check it out. I promise you’ll LOL all over the place. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • February 5, 2017 at 11:08 pm

      Thanks for the re-blog, Marcia. I’d love to LOL myself, alas, I’m feeling a tad suffocated by wrenching love right now.

      Liked by 1 person

      • February 5, 2017 at 11:43 pm

        Those dang angsty men with their perpetual wrenching! (Not to be confused with wenching, though there is no doubt some overlap.) Stay strong, and try an oxygen mask to tide you through those suffocating moments. My thoughts are with you, even though I’m sniggering behind my hand, because I am definitely not living with this problem. At my house, it’s “Damn the romance heroes, full cheese sandwich ahead!”

        Liked by 1 person

  26. February 5, 2017 at 8:15 pm

    😀 😛 I enjoy bibliotherapy once in a while. In real life, this type of romance would be sooo inconvenient and boring. Ha ha ha. Love this. Entertaining and worth a couple giggles.

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 5, 2017 at 11:11 pm

      ‘Inconvenient’ is a brilliant way to describe it. Along with ‘bonkers’, ‘worrying’, and ‘help!!’, obviously.

      Like

  27. February 6, 2017 at 1:13 pm

    Reblogged this on Author_Iris_Chacon and commented:
    Anyone who has ever read a novel with this kind of hero will laugh at this scene. Love it.👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 6, 2017 at 3:44 pm

      So much love, Iris. And here was me thinking love could only ruin, hurt and maim 😉 Thanks for reblogging!

      Liked by 1 person

  28. February 6, 2017 at 5:26 pm

    Brilliantly funny! That sort of romantic hero has never appealed to me – spare me the jet-black hair, intense blue eyes, chiselled jaw, and most of all the rude, arrogant behaviour. Living with a man like that would be deeply tedious!

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 6, 2017 at 5:42 pm

      Thanks, Annabelle. I’m toying with the idea of saying I actually DO live with aforementioned Romantic Hero, just to see if I get any jealous comments…

      Liked by 1 person

  29. February 11, 2017 at 3:48 am

    Thank you for the laughter!

    Liked by 1 person

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