February Writing Challenge: Love Story

[Robbie Wilkes]

With a Little Help

Robbie liked girls.

It couldn't be any more obvious how much he did. He sure spent a lot of time trying hard to get them. But sooner or later, the novelty wore off and especially when the girl starts to reciprocate, Robbie would back the hell off.

But there was one particular girl that was a complete constant in Robbie's life. She had been there from the start and though they had practically nothing in common, their friendship never faltered. She had seen Robbie through the worst moments of his life and was there as a cheering squad of one when things got good. And Robbie gave as much as he took.

The moment they met, Robbie had no doubt in his mind that she was definitely a keeper. She had spunk, she was extremely nice and the best part was, she had never been prey to Robbie's little tricks.

"You ruined my phone!" a senior student yelled at the freshman who just stood there with a concerned look on her face. "I could wipe you off the face of the earth, you little prick." The senior raised a fist but thunder clapped near her, too close for comfort and with a shriek, she jumped and dropped to the ground on her butt.

The freshman's eyes popped open and she took a step back from the older student. Her big brown eyes scanned the halls to see an awkward looking blond boy who waved happily at her. She frowned.

"It's not possible, you're a stupid metal manipulator, you can't summon thunder." The senior turned to look around but no one else was there. "You're...you better watch your back, kid. Your guardian angel wouldn't always be here when you need them." The ruined phone in the other girl's hand was shoved in her pocket as she scrambled to get up and run off, not even noticing the head of bright blond hair behind one of the pillars.

He peeked out and waved shyly to the girl who was still frowning. "You didn't have to do that. I could have-" Robbie gave the girl a big hug and a shrug. "If I had let you handle it yourself, I wouldn't have had the guts to talk to you."

Not the most conventional first meetings but what mattered was they had been friends for two years, pushing three now and they were positive they would end up being each other's best men to their respective weddings.

Robbie liked girls. But he loved Estelle Flores.

[RC Manne]

True Love

RC was frazzled.

Remarkably beyond frazzled, as it were.

He flew down the steps faster than he’d run anywhere in his life, his hair a sticky-uppy mess and wearing only one sock. What was the strangest was that his trusted grey hoody was nowhere to be seen. Wild eyed he slid into the kitchen.


“MOM!” He shrieked. “Mom. Mom! Where’s my hoody? Have you seen it? It’s not where I left it!”
He cried, obviously in a panic. Natalie was so struck that she simply paused over a half-peeled banana and blinked stupidly at him. “I…I haven’t seen it son.”

With an animal cry of agony, RC raced back up to his room. He had to find it. He had to find it. That hoody meant everything to him. It was his security blanket. It was his friend. That hoody had survived him through middle and high school.

He’d been wearing that hoody when he had first puddled up. Now he kept it like a talisman of some kind. It was a tie to the world he’d know before he’d become a living puddle of goop.
He tore through his room once again, digging feverishly through piles and mountains of clothes and nick-knacks. It had to be around somewhere! RC groaned melodramatically when he heard a knock on his door frame.

He turned around to see his oldest sibling looking at him like he was nuts. She didn’t even have to sign her obvious question.

“I’m looking for my hoody!” RC signed vehemently, his face gruff with his apparent rage. “Have you seen it?”

Velma shrugged and replied. “I threw it out.” She made a disgusted face just as RC paled considerably. “It smelled gross.”

RC rushed past his sister, not even bothering to shut his door or express his utter hatred for her at that particular moment. How could she? He loved that hoody. That hoody meant everything to him!

He rushed out the door to the trash cans on the side of the road, horrified to discover that the trash truck was inching toward the end of their long driveway. A small crowd of his family had gathered at the door, his mother calling after him.

“RC stop being so dramatic! We’ll get you another hoody!”

Ignoring his Mom, RC bolted to the end of the driveway, pulling the trashcan out of the trash man’s hands. “Wait!” He spluttered, gasping for breath. The bewildered employee staring at him as he did so, RC dug vigorously through the trash. “Wait..wai~t.” He repeated, sticking his tongue between his teeth. His eyes grew wide when he felt the familiar frayed sleeve of his garment.

Shouting an excited “YESSSSSSS!”, RC triumphantly stuck the soiled sweat shirt into the air. The garbage man looked skeptically at RC.

“Dude, can I take this now?”

“Yeah. Sure. Uh…Whatever.” RC replied, jogging back to his house to the stunned look of his family.

The twins gave a resounding “ew” before pinching their noses and running off. Velma was hiding a laugh behind her hand. RC’s mother was still looking at him in amazement.

“RC…really, it was probably time for that hoody to go.”

RC shook his head stubbornly, crushing the worn down but loyal sweat shirt to his chest.

“No way mom, I love this thing.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

I warn everyone now that my definition of love story and the rest of the world's definition might not sync properly. This is heavy, and I apologize.

Slip-Sliding Away

I know a man
He comes from my hometown
He wears his passion for his woman like a thorny crown
He ways “Delores, I live in fear.
My love for you is so overpowering I’m afraid that I may disappear.”

Wakefulness came slowly. Brought on by a shift in the room temperature. Utterly at peace, his eyelids fluttered open. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness; it took longer for him to realize that this wasn’t his room. Where was he? And why was it so cold?

Turning his head, he found the answer to both questions. As memories of the evening flooded his mind, his lips curled into a wide smile.

This must be what it feels like to fall in love.

It didn’t matter to Sean that he wasn’t wearing underwear or pajamas. It didn’t matter to him that he had only three inches of blanket. The stiffness in his jaw and in his back didn’t matter. Nothing did, aside from the person lying in bed beside him.

The telepath rolled onto his side, rested his head in his hand and simply took in the person beside him. Dark disheveled hair, pale skin and all. He was perfect.

Well, he snored and hogged the blanket, but none of that mattered. He was here and he was perfect, and Sean had never been happier in his life. He reached out and ran his hand lightly along the other man’s side, barely touching him. Instinctively, there was a shift, right into his hand, encouraging the touch. He smiled wider.

Sean wondered what he was dreaming about. It had taken him a long time to accept that he would never be able to see another person’s dreams, but it was only fair. He was meta, but he was still only human. He wondered if he had a cameo in this dream, whatever it was. He hoped so, given the other man’s upturned lips.

He inched closer to the other man and wrapped an arm around his waist, nimbly maneuvering to fit back under the blanket. He pressed a kiss to his shoulder and closed his eyes. We fit, he thought, before rejoining his companion in sleep.

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

Although he knew that he should, he simply didn’t care about the tibia and the fibula bones. From across the room, he knew that Josh didn’t care about intentional torts and negligence. He was tempted to send Josh an image of them in the shower, but he had enough self-restraint not to. Barely enough.

If he had more self-restraint, they wouldn’t have had to set aside scheduled study time – complete with egg timer! – to make sure they didn’t flunk out of school. The telepath couldn’t help that he felt better spending time with the other man than being alone. Nor could he help the fact that neither mid-level medical studies or introductory law were nowhere near as interesting as talking politics or running his fingers through Josh’s hair.

An agonizingly long time later, the timer went off. He rose like a shot and tossed his book aside. Across the room, Josh was mirroring his movements – that had happened a lot recently – and with a smile, Sean took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

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

“I’m going to talk to my parents this weekend.”

“About what?”

“About us.”

“Why?” The horror in the other man’s voice didn’t exactly instill confidence. But Sean ignored that, because he knew what was right and what was necessary.

“Because I want them to know. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and my family should know that.” His parents needed to stop treating Josh as though he was a temporary acquaintance, one who would disappear the minute Sean entered private practice and settled down with a good Catholic girl. They needed to understand why that would never happen, and that he was effectively settled already.

“That’s a terrible idea.”

Sean gave him a look. “I’m not going to hide for the rest of my life. I’m proud of us.”

“You’re the one who constantly complains about them. Do you really want to go through another round of church arguments? Or worse?”

“The worst they could do is disown me, and it won’t happen.” The telepath was sure of that, because he was the favorite. It wasn’t fair since he hadn’t done anything to earn his parents’ favor since he was a boy, nothing besides attending medical school, but he was and he knew it. Telepathy was a blessing and a curse in that regard.

“What if they gave you an ultimatum?”

“Then I’ll start a magic act to pay my way through the rest of school.” Although it was an absurd suggestion, he was serious. “Nothing will ever make me leave you. This-” Sean gestured between the two of them, “we’re real. Nothing else matters.”

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

He stood on the subway platform. Late at night there were few people around, since most of the city’s huddled masses had work or school in the morning and couldn’t spend all night out. And given how dangerous the subways had become – and the fact that the city’s upswing was in its infancy as best – most people knew better than to come to a downtown subway station at this hour. Particularly alone, because it was an invitation to be mugged.

He didn’t care. He was only peripherally aware of the people – or lack thereof – around him. He’d stopped noticing people long ago, even if he hadn’t realized at the time. People didn’t matter. The darkness and cold of the subway tunnel didn’t matter. He couldn’t feel anything. Even with the fifteen pounds he’d lost recently, he still couldn’t feel anything.

All that mattered was the emptiness inside him and the feeling of the platform beneath his feet. Solid but he knew what lay beneath. The tracks called to him, urging him to meld with them in a way he had once had but could no longer do. To merge and become a perfect mix of steel and flesh and blood.

He wanted – no, needed that – needed to belong, needed to find his place, needed to snuff himself into oblivion and become more than he was now. Needed to be whole. Couldn’t stand being broken. The emptiness in him threatened to suck him in, to collapse around him like a neutron star.

Closing his eyes, he stepped forward.