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When she showed up at his door, tears leaving black tracks of makeup down her face, he didn't ask what was wrong. He didn't even question how she had come to be there, on his doorstep, at an impossible time of night. He ushered her inside and sat her down, offered her tea, coffee, water? She settled for brandy. What eighteen-year-old drinks brandy? He ran her a bath and she sank into it gratefully. He brought her a piece of toast with his best strawberry jam and still asked no questions. When she was done, he handed her a big fluffy towel and cuccooned her, swaddling her like a child. He led her to his bedroom and slipped his biggest shirt over her head and folded back the duvet. She slid into his bed and he tucked her in and wiped the last smudge of makeup from under her eye with his thumb. He left a cup of water on the bedside table in his favourite mug. He perched on the edge of the bed until her eyelids fluttered shut and her breathing was relaxed into soft snuffles. He gently held her fingers in his hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. He grabbed a blanket on his way out and made a bed for himself on the couch.

Six Word Story

"Are you busy?" "Never for you."

Voicemail

I let her phone ring out for the fourth time in the past hour, hearing the familiar automated voice of a woman letting me know that I was connecting to her voicemail. Just as her sing-song voice begins to twirl its way through the receiver, my room mate comes back and I hang up guiltily. He doesn't say anything. Why do you bother paying for her phone when she never bloody answers it? That's what my mum used to say. She probably still thinks that, too, but she won't voice it aloud anymore. But I don't care. I will always pay it for her. It's not a big deal. I take the phone into my bedroom and perch on the bed, dialling again. It goes through to voicemail and I tense up a little, as I do every time, just before the bittersweet melody of her voice invades my ears. It's been this way for eight months now. Most people would give up after eight months of unanswered calls. But truthfully, eight months ago she left. She didn't just leave me, but left us all. I've paid her phone bill ever since she passed away, just so I would always have her voicemail to listen to.

Haiku

Kiss your friends because
You love them more than you could
Ever love that man

Sleep Talking

"It's okay, it's okay," I soothe, awkwardly wrapping my arms around his head. His eyes don't open but I know he senses me there. There is a cold sweat adding a sheen to his forehead and his breathing is irregular. I don't know what to do, so I just sit there, with his head tucked under my arm until I feel his laboured breaths slow. I make the odd shushing sound but mainly sit in silence. He softens beneath me and I know he is asleep again. I feel strange sitting by his pillow whilst he sleeps, but for some reason I am reluctant to leave. His terrified screams made me nervous. I didn't want him to dream like that again. So I stay and lean my back against the headboard, counting the cracks in the ceiling. I can't stop my eyes from flickering down to his face every now and then, making sure he's okay and making sure he's still there. He huffs as he rolls onto his side and faces me, a small, sleepy frown creasing the part between his eyebrows. He's still asleep, but he's mumbling incoherently and it almost makes me smile. He breathes my name, but it's soft as a whisper and I think I imagine it. I hear it again and start - he must know I am there. I gently swing my legs off the edge of the bed, ready to leave, when I feel his fist lamely grab my knee. I stop and he relaxes, even in sleep. "I love you," he mutters. "I love you." I swallow the lump in my throat and kiss the top of his head gingerly. "I love you," he sighs again and I sigh too, but for a different reason.

Earth, Air, Water

When he held me, it was Earth - stable, solid and felt as old as trees, like we had never done anything else.

When he looked at me, it was Air - breath leaving my lungs and words failing me. I saw pink and hearts and rainbows and I knew I should be embarrassed, but I wasn't.

When he kissed me, it was Water - drowning, gasping, trying to tread water and keep myself steady, but they currents took me under and I knew I was a goner.

Haiku

Wherever you are

We see the same stars and moon

And I'm not alone

Bad Dreams

The trees tower above me; a light summer breeze rustles the greenery and casts shadows on my face. I squint my eyes slightly, shifting my focus from cloud to cloud, making out shapes and patterns in the spotless, white candy floss. 

The warmth makes my skin prickle comfortably. I have an overwhelming feeling of complete contentment. Had I ever been so happy?

I turn my head to my right and he's lying beside me, watching my face, his blue eyes a mystery to me. He is in need of a hair cut but I never had the heart to tell him so. He reaches his hand out and traces his fingertips along my cheekbone and I smile in response. His answering grin dazzles me and I feel like a child.

He rolls over and props himself up on his elbows in front of me. I shift myself into a sitting position, leaning my back against the tree behind me. The wind blows our hair, tickling my face with a few wayward strands. I wriggle my nose and he smiles his full megawatt smile.

Suddenly, the sky turns dark, like someone has switched out the light. My eyes dart around in fear. I look at him.

"What's happening?" I try to call to him, but it's like someone has removed my voice. The silence is deafening. 

Out of nowhere, the sound of static fills my ears; a heavy white noise that pulsates my brain. I can't take my eyes off him, locked in fear as his body seems to be glowing impossibly. 

His eyes are wide and he's looking at me, but it's like he's looking through me. A light is emanating from every part of him, right to his fingertips.

I lean forward to grab him but he falls clean through my fingers. I stare up in fright and I notice how he's barely there anymore. A pale, translucent version of his form is standing before me, looking as melancholy as the saddest song.

I shut my eyes and squeeze them tight, thinking this must be some kind of bizarre hallucination. Perhaps I had sunstroke.

My eyes shoot open and I am in bed. I realise I have had that dream again. I wonder when my brain will accept that he died months ago. I wonder when my heart will accept it too.

Stood Up

 I knew I shouldn't have come here, I thought to myself bitterly, my eyes darting around the cafe suspiciously. People had been and gone in the past hour and a half, but I knew that the waitress who kept refilling my coffee thought I was a joke. She even brought me an iced bun. "On the house," she'd said, flashing me a sympathetic smile. I bet she saw a lot of people like me in her line of work.

I glanced sideways at my phone which lay by my elbow, half hoping she might call to say she was running late. Who was I kidding? I knew she'd said yes out of pity. I knew she was out of my league; she was golden-blonde, bright eyed and beautiful and I was just your average Joe. I wasn't a complete loser - I'd had my share of girlfriends, but I was really taking a risk this time. I liked to put on a cool-guy facade but even I had to admit being jilted at the coffee-altar was a bruise to the ego.

I sat back in my chair, exasperated. I swirled the remaining coffee in my cup, watching the milk form patterns on the chocolate-coloured surface. To be honest, I was pretty annoyed. I wasn't asking for much; I just thought we could have coffee and talk. I hadn't even explicitly called it a date! It was her own fault for assuming. My eyebrows furrowed slightly in childish irritation. Girls were so much hassle! I preferred to be single anyway. A lone wolf. I shook my shoulders and felt a smirk creep onto my face. I was always good at giving myself pep talks - I felt much better now. Who needed girls? Not me!

I chugged the last of my lukewarm coffee and took my wallet from my back pocket, laying a ten pound note on the table and sliding my chair back. My spirits somewhat lifted, I stood and stretched casually, giving the impression that I hadn't been expecting company at all and I was quite satisfied with some alone time. I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and slung it over my shoulder, walking out of the door coolly, giving a nod to the waitress who had given me the iced bun.

As I stepped out of the door, I collided instantly with someone on their way inside. When I got over my initial shock, I opened my mouth to apologise profusely until I recognised who it was in front of me. Her blonde locks had gone awry in our pile-up and her cheeks were slightly flushed. My irritation returned despite my marvel at how wonderful she looked. Before I could say sorry for knocking into her, she squeaked breathlessly, "I am so sorry," she tucked her hair behind her ears. "You'll never believe what happened to me on the way here." I couldn't stop the smile that spread onto my face. What was that I was saying about being a lone wolf? Yeah, forget that.


(Prompt: write about a man that got stood up on a date. Writing prompts from creativewritingprompts)