She looked out her small attic window onto the rain-soaked sidewalk below. Resting her chin on her knees, she swallowed the bitter pill of disappointment. “He’s not coming. He’s not coming, and I’m fine with that. Because he’s not mine. He’s someone else’s. I love him, but I’ll get over it.” Resolved and determined, she left her watch post and returned to her work.
An hour of listening to the cold drizzle patter softly on the roof above her head and an hour of refusing to think of his face. Sighing with frustration, she threw her pencil across the narrow room. She was just about to pour herself a glass of wine when the doorbell rang. Not allowing herself to hope, she tiptoed down the stairs to the front door.
And there he was.
There he was, hair soaked and plastered to his head. Out of breath, he had run to her.
“I couldn’t do it anymore,” he told her as she stood speechless and shocked in her doorway. “Last night, I looked at her, and she wasn’t you. And suddenly, I knew. I want you. It’s never been her; it’s you. I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to—”
She finally regained her senses and started to feebly protest. “But—” she cut him off. Before she could continue, he closed the short distance between them and grabbed her face.
“No buts.” And he kissed her. Her world fell apart in that instant and rebuilt itself into something new, into something better.
A.) “Come upstairs,” she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “I have something to show you.” Giddy with possibilities, the couple ran to her attic room. Once there, she smiled shyly. “Look in the closet,” she whispered. “I got something for you. I was hoping.”
He slowly reached for the closet doorknob, unsure of what to expect. His newfound clarity, the clarity that made him race to her door in the midst of a rainstorm, also made him realize she was the most thoughtful, caring person he knew, and whatever gift for him was in her closet, she had put her heart and soul into it. He opened the door.
Staring at the severed head of his now ex-fiancé, neatly placed on a homemade wooden pedestal, he gasped. Tears sprang to his eyes. He turned to look at the object of his newborn love, his mouth open with shock. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her hand clasped tightly together. His silence and shocked look unnerved her. “Well?” she asked tentatively. “Do you like it?”
The tears streamed down his face. He lunged at her suddenly, grabbed her hands in his, and violently pulled her up from the bed.
“I love it,” he whispered into her ear, pulling her into his arms. She smiled into his chest. She knew they belonged together.
B.) She pulled away from his kiss. “Wait a second,” she said. “Who do you think you are? You show up at my door and tell me you love me, out of nowhere, after you’ve proposed to your girlfriend, who—need I remind you?—is my best friend. Does she know you’re here?” His perplexed shake of the head confirmed her suspicions. “I can’t believe you. She’s given up everything for you, and you run over here, expecting what? What’d you expect, that I’d fall on my knees and thank my lucky stars that finally you realized you loved me? Finally, after all these years? Sure, that probably would have happened a long time ago, but things are different now. Now, that’d only happen if I were a selfish, cold-hearted bitch. Is that what you think of me? Is it?”
He started to back away from her, his hands outstretched in front of him, as if to protect himself from her attack. He backed all the way off her porch, tripping down the stairs. As he picked himself up her from her front lawn, she yelled to him, “Yeah, you better get away from here. And if you think I’m not telling your ex-fiancé about this little escapade, you’ve got another thing coming, my friend. Yeah, you better run,” she shouted at his rapidly retreating form. As she turned to go back inside, where she’d call her best friend with some unpleasant news, she shook her head and chuckled to herself. “Idiot.”
C.) She pulled him inside. They were both laughing and giddy with anticipation. They raced upstairs to her room, holding hands. She didn’t want to ever let go of his hand; she couldn’t believe that all her dreams had just come true. It was like her body wasn’t big enough for so much happiness. When she looked into his smiling eyes, she knew he felt the same. She got him a towel and gently dried his hair. They sat together on her bed, holding hands and sneaking furtive glances at each other. She smiled at him every time he caught her eye. Minutes passed slowly in silence.
The bed creaked loudly as he shifted his weight. He smiled at her. She squeezed his hand. The bed creaked loudly as she shifted her weight, becoming uncomfortable with the silence. “So…” she started. He looked at her.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Well…” She didn’t know how to continue. Her fantasies usually ended with the kiss. She smiled at him again, but it looked more like a grimace. “I…” she broke off, unsure of what to say, unsure if she had anything to say to this man. The love of my life, she reminded herself. I think.
The bed creaked loudly as they both shifted their weight. They dropped their grip on each other’s hands.
He stood up slowly and walked towards the stairs. “I think I’m just going to…” he trailed off. She nodded.
“Hey,” she said. He paused on his way down, on his way out the door and back home. “Hey, it was a nice try.”
D.) She pulled away from his kiss and grabbed his hands. She pulled him inside, and they lived happily ever after.
If you picked:
A.) Dexter is alright, but you know what’s even better? Real serial killers.
B.) Jezebel is the best! Hillary Clinton 2012.
C.) Your favorite movie is The Graduate. You are awkward.
D.) Aw…how sweet. You’re a sap.
An hour of listening to the cold drizzle patter softly on the roof above her head and an hour of refusing to think of his face. Sighing with frustration, she threw her pencil across the narrow room. She was just about to pour herself a glass of wine when the doorbell rang. Not allowing herself to hope, she tiptoed down the stairs to the front door.
And there he was.
There he was, hair soaked and plastered to his head. Out of breath, he had run to her.
“I couldn’t do it anymore,” he told her as she stood speechless and shocked in her doorway. “Last night, I looked at her, and she wasn’t you. And suddenly, I knew. I want you. It’s never been her; it’s you. I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to—”
She finally regained her senses and started to feebly protest. “But—” she cut him off. Before she could continue, he closed the short distance between them and grabbed her face.
“No buts.” And he kissed her. Her world fell apart in that instant and rebuilt itself into something new, into something better.
A.) “Come upstairs,” she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “I have something to show you.” Giddy with possibilities, the couple ran to her attic room. Once there, she smiled shyly. “Look in the closet,” she whispered. “I got something for you. I was hoping.”
He slowly reached for the closet doorknob, unsure of what to expect. His newfound clarity, the clarity that made him race to her door in the midst of a rainstorm, also made him realize she was the most thoughtful, caring person he knew, and whatever gift for him was in her closet, she had put her heart and soul into it. He opened the door.
Staring at the severed head of his now ex-fiancé, neatly placed on a homemade wooden pedestal, he gasped. Tears sprang to his eyes. He turned to look at the object of his newborn love, his mouth open with shock. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her hand clasped tightly together. His silence and shocked look unnerved her. “Well?” she asked tentatively. “Do you like it?”
The tears streamed down his face. He lunged at her suddenly, grabbed her hands in his, and violently pulled her up from the bed.
“I love it,” he whispered into her ear, pulling her into his arms. She smiled into his chest. She knew they belonged together.
B.) She pulled away from his kiss. “Wait a second,” she said. “Who do you think you are? You show up at my door and tell me you love me, out of nowhere, after you’ve proposed to your girlfriend, who—need I remind you?—is my best friend. Does she know you’re here?” His perplexed shake of the head confirmed her suspicions. “I can’t believe you. She’s given up everything for you, and you run over here, expecting what? What’d you expect, that I’d fall on my knees and thank my lucky stars that finally you realized you loved me? Finally, after all these years? Sure, that probably would have happened a long time ago, but things are different now. Now, that’d only happen if I were a selfish, cold-hearted bitch. Is that what you think of me? Is it?”
He started to back away from her, his hands outstretched in front of him, as if to protect himself from her attack. He backed all the way off her porch, tripping down the stairs. As he picked himself up her from her front lawn, she yelled to him, “Yeah, you better get away from here. And if you think I’m not telling your ex-fiancé about this little escapade, you’ve got another thing coming, my friend. Yeah, you better run,” she shouted at his rapidly retreating form. As she turned to go back inside, where she’d call her best friend with some unpleasant news, she shook her head and chuckled to herself. “Idiot.”
C.) She pulled him inside. They were both laughing and giddy with anticipation. They raced upstairs to her room, holding hands. She didn’t want to ever let go of his hand; she couldn’t believe that all her dreams had just come true. It was like her body wasn’t big enough for so much happiness. When she looked into his smiling eyes, she knew he felt the same. She got him a towel and gently dried his hair. They sat together on her bed, holding hands and sneaking furtive glances at each other. She smiled at him every time he caught her eye. Minutes passed slowly in silence.
The bed creaked loudly as he shifted his weight. He smiled at her. She squeezed his hand. The bed creaked loudly as she shifted her weight, becoming uncomfortable with the silence. “So…” she started. He looked at her.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Well…” She didn’t know how to continue. Her fantasies usually ended with the kiss. She smiled at him again, but it looked more like a grimace. “I…” she broke off, unsure of what to say, unsure if she had anything to say to this man. The love of my life, she reminded herself. I think.
The bed creaked loudly as they both shifted their weight. They dropped their grip on each other’s hands.
He stood up slowly and walked towards the stairs. “I think I’m just going to…” he trailed off. She nodded.
“Hey,” she said. He paused on his way down, on his way out the door and back home. “Hey, it was a nice try.”
D.) She pulled away from his kiss and grabbed his hands. She pulled him inside, and they lived happily ever after.
If you picked:
A.) Dexter is alright, but you know what’s even better? Real serial killers.
B.) Jezebel is the best! Hillary Clinton 2012.
C.) Your favorite movie is The Graduate. You are awkward.
D.) Aw…how sweet. You’re a sap.
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