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    totallyy
  • totallyy
  • Author
  • 11/10/2013
  • 1,013 Words
  • 3,801 Views
  • 18 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Are We More Than Just Friends? - 1. Are We More Than Just Friends?

First piece in a while. 
Comments and reviews greatly appreciated!
Enjoy. smile.png

The space between us closed, thigh against thigh. The heat of his skin seeped through the fabric separating us. My eyes darted up to look at him: his eyes flickering from the screen in front of us to the book splayed in his lap, eyelashes brushing against his eyelids tenderly. His eyes caught mine as I deflected my gaze.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I murmured, turning my attention back to the screen.

Shoulders rubbed against each other, a futile attempt to get closer. He huffed. His touch disappeared as he straightened his back. Turning towards me, he grabbed my arm and wrapped it around his waist, settling himself into the curve of my body. Warmth bubbled inside me, as the tentative tension of playing the game left my body. An air of contentment enveloped both of us, a single continuous body.

The credits ran into darkness as he tilted his head upward to look at me. I drowned in his eyes, bright and captivating. I leaned down, leaping off the ledge of comfort across the expanse of uncertainty that lay before me. Lips pushed and moulded against each other. I pulled back. The sparkle disappeared, replaced by a curious blankness, an impenetrable fortress.

A haunting silence pervaded as I tumbled into the abyss.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?” I countered.

“We could cuddle?” he suggested.

“I’d like that,” I replied, a smile spreading across my face.

I paced the room: books stacked against the wall, clothes haphazardly folded and dropped in piles, CDs leaning against half filled racks. I scanned the photos, searching for those familiar blue eyes. Footsteps sounded against the wooden floor. Greeted by a pale expanse of skin, I swallowed.

“Do you sleep in your clothes?” he asked, striding past me to retrieve books that sprawled across his bed.

Realisation dawned on me. I unbuttoned my shirt, letting it fall to the ground. Unclasping my belt, and pushing the denim down, I waited. As he turned to face me, he paused: eyes fixated on my crotch. I blushed, feeling slightly ridiculous and unprepared standing before him in only my brightest pair of underwear, a shade of pink that matched my cheeks.

I approached him and the bed. Lifting the covers, he gestured for me to get in. The sheets slid against my skin, relenting against the weight of my body. I watched as the muscles in his body tense and relax as he lifted himself into bed behind me. His arms searched me out in the sheets, the gentle touch of his skin warm and soothing against my chest. He pulled me against him: holding me, cradling me. The pieces of me that have chipped off from the bump and grind of this arduous journey seemed to come together again while I was in his arms. I let myself relax and dissolve into his heat.

Our arms stretched and flexed, legs curled and extended, bodies swayed, chests rose and fell: a dance through the night. His fingers roamed across my skin, their touch soothing every scar that ran deep beneath the surface. As moonlight filtered through the cold glass, sleep claimed me.

Morning pried my lids open as a warmth weighed heavily on my chest. My fingers ran through the strands, feeling contented, rested and safe. I lay in the silence, acutely aware that an alarm would puncture this bubble, announcing the end of the night.

Moments after, it did.

“Good morning,” I said as his head shifted.

“How do you wake up to that? It’s so peaceful,” he grumbled, wiping his eyes sleepily.

He tightened his hold around me, pinning me down. I chuckled, nuzzling against him.

“I really have to go,” I whispered.

“Mmmmm… all right,” he relented, untangling himself from me, shifting onto his side.

I smiled as I slid out, retrieving my clothes and putting them on quietly.

I wandered back to his bedside, watching his peaceful form. I settled beside him, sitting. His arms wrapped around my waist, luring me back into the comfort of his embrace. I chuckled.

I pulled them apart and whispered, “I’ll let myself out.”

“Okay,” he mumbled.

I stumbled through the apartment, picking up my belongings where I had left them the night before. As I crouched to the ground, tying my shoelaces, bare feet sneaked into my field of vision.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey…” I replied, feeling the ground beneath me sag. The curious steely expression had returned to his face.

The tension in the air mounted.

“Okay. Look,” I finally said, “I obviously really like you, if you can’t tell already.” I chuckled nervously, “So I need to know if you just see us as really good friends, or if it’s more that that, because I could really fall for you.”

The anticipation crawled under my skin like ants nibbling at the free nerve endings.

He sighed. “I do like you,” he said.

My heart fell.

“But I don’t know what I want in a relationship,” he said.

I heard, “I don’t want to be in a relationship with you.”

I said, “Okay.”

“I see us as friends.”

I heard, “There’s something about you.”

I said, “Yeah, friendship is good enough for me.”

“Please don’t hold out for me.”

I heard, “I’m not interested.”

I nodded and said, “I’m going to go now.”

“Bye.”

“See you.”

I descended the stairs, taking in the barren sight in the bleak morning light. I felt myself being swallowed by the abyss of uncertainty. The mended core inside me imploded, sending shrapnel pummeling through my insecurities.

Droplets formed on my face. I reached up to touch them, cold. I blinked, my eyes dry. The droplets formed against my skin: flakes melting against the heated surface. I watched as flakes floated through the morning lit sky, a sombre grey. They settled in my hair, in my clothes: their seemingly weightlessness deceiving. They accumulated, sitting atop my sagging shoulders, my drooping head as I walked the walk of shame.

First piece in a while. 
Comments and reviews greatly appreciated!
Enjoy. smile.png
Copyright © 2013 totallyy; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 14
  • Sad 1
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

totallyy
On 11/10/2013 02:31 PM, Lisa said:
What a sad first chapter! Poor kid. Isn't it funny (well, not really!), that when people say one thing, we interpret it as something completely different? It's sad.

 

But really, what was up with that guy?

 

I'm looking foward to learning more about the poor kid he disappointed. :2thumbs:

Thanks for the review! :D

 

It's true, there are moments for all of us... when we are so insecure...

 

And with the guy, if only we could understand what was going on inside guys' heads, all the problems in the world would be solved.

 

:) Thanks for the review again!!!

  • Like 1
gabriel_salinas

Beautiful, and so direct. Even without so much introduction and history it tells everything about how easy it is for someone to misinterpret so much and how easy it is to mistake the comfort of another person with intimacy. It was sad but at the same time so reminiscent of missed opportunities that i think we all could relate to. I see it reads as complete but really I do wish you could continue this because it really is a great jump off point. Thank you

knotme

Only when I began to review this piece did I realize that there are only pronouns, so I'll refer to narrator and other, N & O. Love demands names (O you, you, wherefore art thou, you? Only in the Brooks version), but names are also key to empathy at any stage of a relationship. I think N & O knew each others' names but chose not to use them, connoting bleakness and hopelessness. Great decision by the author! In N's stew of thoughts and emotions, conviction, hope, and confidence are swamped by other ingredients. The morning after, in a hurry, is not the best time for that conversation, but N could not face the possibility of awkwardness at an earlier time. So, more than friends? No, for now at least. Would O have been more hopeful at a more propitious time? Who knows? I personally don't think N totally misunderstood O, who cannot be expected to be blunt and forthright here. A fan of Faulkner and Hemingway, I stumbled over the verbiage here and there, but the message still hit home.

totallyy
On 11/10/2013 04:35 PM, Stephen said:
The disappointments in life...

 

You've made this one clear, and it hurt to see someone else suffer too. It always does

and it always will. It's a rite of passage I suppose. It happens to everyone, part of

living, -still hurts though.

 

It's beautiful the way you tell it.

thank you stephen :)

 

it has to be one of the greatest compliments you can give to a writer when you empathise with their characters. :D

 

Glad you enjoyed it.

  • Like 1
totallyy
On 11/10/2013 04:46 PM, gabriel_salinas said:
Beautiful, and so direct. Even without so much introduction and history it tells everything about how easy it is for someone to misinterpret so much and how easy it is to mistake the comfort of another person with intimacy. It was sad but at the same time so reminiscent of missed opportunities that i think we all could relate to. I see it reads as complete but really I do wish you could continue this because it really is a great jump off point. Thank you
Thank you for the review! :)

 

There are so many uncertainties in feelings. Especially in the beginning, when you're unsure if the seeds will make it through the harsh winter, to settle quietly in the spring soil. It's always going to be hard.

 

For now, it's complete. Perhaps I'll return to it. :) But I'm glad you enjoyed it.

  • Like 1
totallyy
On 11/10/2013 05:14 PM, knotme said:

Only when I began to review this piece did I realize that there are only pronouns, so I'll refer to narrator and other, N & O. Love demands names (O you, you, wherefore art thou, you? Only in the Brooks version), but names are also key to empathy at any stage of a relationship. I think N & O knew each others' names but chose not to use them, connoting bleakness and hopelessness. Great decision by the author! In N's stew of thoughts and emotions, conviction, hope, and confidence are swamped by other ingredients. The morning after, in a hurry, is not the best time for that conversation, but N could not face the possibility of awkwardness at an earlier time. So, more than friends? No, for now at least. Would O have been more hopeful at a more propitious time? Who knows? I personally don't think N totally misunderstood O, who cannot be expected to be blunt and forthright here. A fan of Faulkner and Hemingway, I stumbled over the verbiage here and there, but the message still hit home.

Thank you for the review! :)

 

For me, names are clumsy and exclusive. They're hard and inflexible. When do you start using someone's name? I find myself struggling to use other people's names when I'm just getting to know them. It's almost as if I don't feel like I have the authority to use it. For who am I to them?

 

And cliched yet true, timing is everything. We're bound to the world by this temporal dimension. Time is in everything and nothing is timeless. Sure, the conversation might not have been most appropriate at this time. But at what time would it have been? Isn't the decision to act based on the conflicting poles of the fear of acting and the fear of not acting?

 

Dialogue is not my best set of skills, I'll admit. :gikkle: but sometimes no amount of rephrasing/paraphrasing can offset this necessity.

 

Thank you for the insightful review :D I'm really glad you could relate to it.

  • Like 1
Cannd

You caught those emotions I think most people go through more than once in their life as they look for a person they can live and love with. I loved the contrast and imagery you brought in the parts where you spoke of edges being smoothed out from the bump and grind of the relationship to the end where you describe the explosion and feeling of being hit with shrapnel. I think it was really poignant when you have the conversation along with his interpretation or what he hears. People are not honest and upfront about feelings very often and there are so many times when there should be subtitles under what they actually say. Great short story.

totallyy
On 11/11/2013 05:44 PM, Cannd said:
You caught those emotions I think most people go through more than once in their life as they look for a person they can live and love with. I loved the contrast and imagery you brought in the parts where you spoke of edges being smoothed out from the bump and grind of the relationship to the end where you describe the explosion and feeling of being hit with shrapnel. I think it was really poignant when you have the conversation along with his interpretation or what he hears. People are not honest and upfront about feelings very often and there are so many times when there should be subtitles under what they actually say. Great short story.
Thanks for the review.

 

I feel like we are constantly looking for people who fix us, who smooth out our rough edges. But then they turn out not to be "the one" and they leave us worse for wear: more frayed.

 

I'm glad you enjoyed the dialogue and the story. :)

  • Like 1
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