Original Fiction: All the things
Title: All the Things
Category: Original Fiction
Genre: General, somewhat angsty? I don't know.
Notes: ...I don't know, either. It was the coat that started it.
I got a new coat for Christmas, to replace my old black pea coat. It’s nice. Dark green. Warm.
I don’t need it. Don’t want it. Don’t care about it.
You like it, though. Say it looks good on me. Say I need warmth. Say I need color.
I don’t want color. I’m lovely in black. Makes me paler. Matches my hair.
But I like humoring you. Like now. I’m wearing my nice green coat, and those new white gloves, and that red scarf from last Christmas, and you’re grinning at me in that See, I told you way that shows the dimples in your right cheek.
I elbow you. Hard. You double over and start laughing.
I hide my smile behind my scarf.
We’re not best friends. We’re classmates. I sit behind you because my last name comes after yours. We cheat on tests and borrow each other’s iPods and eat cookie dough and bitch about our teacher.
You always drink my water.
I always poke you for no reason.
I helped you cut class.
You helped me make my deadline.
I think I fell in love with you that day before Christmas when I fell asleep during that in-class movie and you woke me up by throwing your arms around me and laughing in my ear.
You’re affectionate like that. I’m not.
But... It’s the end of the term.
We might not be in the same class next week. That’s sort of scary. You lose friends that way, especially if you don’t end up in any other classes together.
I figure that I could act now.
I figure that I could tell you I have a massive crush on you.
I figure that I could run away into the crowd of people on this street, and smile back at you, and disappear, and that would be that, just like in movies. It would work, too. Our school is big enough.
Running away is stupid.
You link our arms together and shove your hands into your pockets, grinning at me. I roll my eyes. You don’t believe in gloves, but you always complain about how cold your hands are.
...I’m going to be lonely next term. I know.
But I think...
I think that as long as I have the memory of today?
It’ll be fine.
Category: Original Fiction
Genre: General, somewhat angsty? I don't know.
Notes: ...I don't know, either. It was the coat that started it.
I got a new coat for Christmas, to replace my old black pea coat. It’s nice. Dark green. Warm.
I don’t need it. Don’t want it. Don’t care about it.
You like it, though. Say it looks good on me. Say I need warmth. Say I need color.
I don’t want color. I’m lovely in black. Makes me paler. Matches my hair.
But I like humoring you. Like now. I’m wearing my nice green coat, and those new white gloves, and that red scarf from last Christmas, and you’re grinning at me in that See, I told you way that shows the dimples in your right cheek.
I elbow you. Hard. You double over and start laughing.
I hide my smile behind my scarf.
We’re not best friends. We’re classmates. I sit behind you because my last name comes after yours. We cheat on tests and borrow each other’s iPods and eat cookie dough and bitch about our teacher.
You always drink my water.
I always poke you for no reason.
I helped you cut class.
You helped me make my deadline.
I think I fell in love with you that day before Christmas when I fell asleep during that in-class movie and you woke me up by throwing your arms around me and laughing in my ear.
You’re affectionate like that. I’m not.
But... It’s the end of the term.
We might not be in the same class next week. That’s sort of scary. You lose friends that way, especially if you don’t end up in any other classes together.
I figure that I could act now.
I figure that I could tell you I have a massive crush on you.
I figure that I could run away into the crowd of people on this street, and smile back at you, and disappear, and that would be that, just like in movies. It would work, too. Our school is big enough.
Running away is stupid.
You link our arms together and shove your hands into your pockets, grinning at me. I roll my eyes. You don’t believe in gloves, but you always complain about how cold your hands are.
...I’m going to be lonely next term. I know.
But I think...
I think that as long as I have the memory of today?
It’ll be fine.