Home > fantasy, writing > Intertwining, pt. 1: meeting

Intertwining, pt. 1: meeting

“How many relationships have you been in before?”

She blushed self-consciously at this. To admit that, at 25, she had only had one prior boyfriend seemed so shameful to admit. She felt it showed her in an undesirable light, or perhaps as too prudish. She battled internally, wondering at the propensity to think of things as ‘too few’ or ‘too much.’ What, then, was the ‘correct’ number of relationships to be in by one’s mid-twenties? What foolish thoughts…

She looked up, realized he had been gazing steadily at her. Waiting. A slightly cocked eyebrow showed a thinly disguised interest, as well as a little impatience, at her hesitation.

“Your cheeks are bright red. What are you embarrassed about? Have you had none? Or twenty?”

She shook her head, and finally spoke: “Just one.” And she cast her eyes down at her plate.

He laughed now, not meanly, but seeming genuinely surprised. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. I can tell you have high standards. However, I’m sure,” and here his eyes seemed to glint as he grinned confidently, “that I will be able to meet those standards.”

She laughed despite herself, and felt the cold anxiety that had filled her stomach drain away. They fell into relaxed conversation after this, exchanging interests, peeves, passions, anecdotes – those things that encapsulate introductory meetings. The red wine warmed her blood so that she felt a pleasant prickling under her skin.

All too soon, it seemed to her, the waiter came with the bill. They stood up together, walking out into the warm night air.

She declined his offer to walk her back to her place, but he insisted, and she gave in, secretly glad for his company. A hazy part of her mind warned her of the danger of leading an almost-stranger to her home, but she shrugged it away as they began to walk. He was so easygoing, so carelessly confident. It filled her senses like a drug, and she wondered if she would be able to resist, should he push…should he ask to go in with her. An inner voice chastised that of course she would! She wished that voice would be silent.

But, when they arrived at her door, he just squeezed her hand warmly, kissed her on the cheek, and bid her a good night. She went inside and stood for a moment, in the darkness of her home, going through those last few moments in her head.

Finally she flipped on a light and went to her bedroom, shedding her clothes as she went. She threw the discarded clothes into the hamper by her bathroom door, made to turn back to her room, then paused.

Taking a step into the bathroom, she opened a drawer and took out a silver vibrating bullet.

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Categories: fantasy, writing
  1. J
    May 24, 2007 at 3:49 pm

    Ooooh. Tasty beginning!

    Is it fiction? Fantasy? Factual? Nevermind…just tell your story…

  2. nell
    May 25, 2007 at 11:10 am

    Just a figment from my imagination, J, but we’ll see how far it goes. And how long my inspiration lasts…

  1. November 26, 2008 at 3:16 pm

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