first line Prompt #303 - First Line

[comicfan]

“How did you get into my room?”

[joann414]

Stranger In My Bed

 

"How did you get into my room?"  Craig stood in the door of his motel room, ready to bolt at the sight of a strange man sitting on the side of his bed.  The guy looked like he was thirty going on seventy.  He had black circles under his eyes, and his hair was long and scraggly as well as his beard.  "You didn't answer me.  Do you want me to call the police or manager.  Speak now!"

 

"I've been watching you for the past couple of days.  I knew you'd be staying awhile by the looks of all the bags you had.  I was cold and hungry, so I picked the lock today.  Please don't call the cops or manager.  I'll leave right now.  You can sleep in the other bed tonight.  It's still clean."  The man stood up, swaying as he did so.

 

Craig dropped his bag and ran to catch the guy, easing him back down on the bed.  "Sit back down.  It's obvious that you're in no shape to be out in this weather.  I'll order us something to eat and then we'll talk."  Taking out his cell phone, he called the diner he'd been using since he got there a week ago and ordered several items, trying to think of what would be best for the stranger.  He hoped the man could stomach what he ordered.  Putting the phone back in his pocket, he walked over to the small refrigerator in the room, took out a coke and handed it to the man, getting himself a beer.  "Have you eaten anything?"

 

"I was too tired.  When I broke in after the maid left this morning, I was starving, but I got warm and fell asleep before I could hunt anything."  The man self-consciously pushed the scraggly hair out of his eyes, his fingernails showing dirt beneath them.

 

Craig sat down beside the man and asked, "What's your name?"

 

"Ben.  Ben Graves.  I'm sorry that I broke into your room.  This weather wouldn't break, and I didn't think I'd survive another night out in it without food and a blanket.  I was going to take a blanket, and leave a note thanking you.  I've never stolen anything in my life, but this time, my life depended on it."

 

"What are you doing living on the streets.  You look like an intelligent person.  Surely, you've family or friends that will take you in for the winter."  Craig could tell the questions were making the man uncomfortable, but if the guy was going to stay in his room, he was going to know something about him.

 

"I lost my job over a year ago.  My boss made sure I didn't get another one.  My boyfriend left me and took everything in my savings, and it didn't take long for my checking account to get in the red.  My landlady heard about what happened at work, and kicked me out.  That was two months ago.  I have no money, and no place to go."  Glancing down at his filthy hands, Ben slid the one not holding his drink underneath his thigh out of sight.

 

Craig watched the man hide his hand.  "Do you feel up to a shower?  I've plenty of clothes, and the hot spray would make you feel better."

 

"Are you sure you don't mind?  I'd love a shower.  It's been over two weeks.  The last one I had was at the mission, but they only let me stay three days."

 

"Well then, go hop in the shower.  There's towels in there, and I'll get you some clothes.  We're about the same height.  My sweats should be fine on you."  Craig made sure Ben made it into the bathroom ok, listened for the sound of the shower, and then opened one of the drawers in the room and started rummaging through his sweats.  He had several suits because he jogged every morning if the weather let him.  Finding a pair that didn't look like they would swallow Ben, Craig took them and a pair of his boxers into the bathroom and hung them on the towel rack where Ben would see them.  He then went back and took a flannel shirt out of the closet and lay it on the bed for Ben to put on.  By this time, someone was knocking on the door, meaning dinner had probably arrived.  Retrieving his wallet out of the case he'd dropped earlier, he answered the door.  Taking the several bags from the delivery boy, he paid him and gave him a generous tip.  Before the boy turned away, Craig asked, "Do ya'll deliver breakfast?"

 

"Yes sir, we deliver anytime between 5 a.m. and midnight.  Would you like a meal delivered in the morning?  I can put it on the schedule when I get back to the diner."  The young man seemed eager to please.

 

Craig took a pen out of his pocket and scribbled on the back of his receipt from their meal.  "I want that delivered around 7 a.m.  Thanks a lot for the help."  Craig shut the door and put the food on the small table in the corner of the room.  Toeing off his boots, he reached for the remote, tuning in the evening news.  The weather man had more tales of woe.  Sighing in exasperation, he found a movie on cable, and sat down on the end of the bed, sliding his jeans off.  His shirt came off next, leaving him in navy blue under armor he'd worn for extra warmth in the cold.  Sitting there, he thought about the man in the shower.  He knew he couldn't send him back out in the freezing weather, so he tried to think of what to do.  Hearing the shower stop, he made a decision with his heart.  If he turned this man out, he could die.  So, it looked like he was going to have a roommate.  Maybe the next two months in this hotel room wouldn't be so dull after all.  He silently patted himself on the back for not staying at one of the high end hotels in town.  If he' been at one of those, Ben couldn't have picked the lock and gotten in out of the cold.  Everything happens for a reason.  Craig firmly believed that.

 

Ben emerged from the bathroom, the site of Craig in the tight suit, brought a little life back into his body for the first time in months.  "That felt great.  I hope you don't mind, but I borrowed the razor in the shower.  I've never been one for a beard."

 

Turning to look at the other man, Craig's mouth dropped open.  Dark blue eyes studied him.  Without the scraggly beard, Ben looked like a college boy.  His olive complexion was still a little sallow, and the dark circles were still there, but he had a beautiful face.  His wet hair was black.  "There's a dryer in the cabinet in the bathroom.  You're welcome to use it and anything else you need.  The shirt on the bed is for you too."

 

Ben slid his arms into the shirt, not bothering to button it, and headed back into the bathroom.  The noise of the blow dryer broke the silence in the motel room.  As he dried his hair, Ben thought about the stranger in the other room.  He was surprised Craig hadn't booted him out immediately.  He'd never been so thankful for kindness in his life.  A little of his faith in human nature had been restored today.  Smiling to himself, he turned the dryer off, and brushed his hair with the brush on the vanity, letting it just fall where it may.  Seeing a pair of clippers on the back of the commode, he quickly trimmed his nails, glad to see them neat and clean again.  When he walked out into the bedroom, Craig had the food sat out on the table along with two beers.  He sat down in one of the chairs after he'd buttoned his shirt.  "This looks great.  Thanks."  Ben went to pick up one of the containers when he noticed Craig had his head bowed, his lips moving silently.  He put his hands back in his lap and waited for Craig to finish before reaching for the food again.

 

"I hope you like what I ordered.  Figured I couldn't go wrong with burgers and fries, but I got the baked potatoes in case you stomach couldn't handle the greasy food."

 

Ben took a huge bite out of his burger and washed it down with a swallow of the beer before replying.  "It's great.  I love burgers and fries.  That's one part of my childhood that I never got past, much to my boyfriend's embarrassment.  When he used to take me out to eat, he'd get angry when I'd order a big greasy cheeseburger instead of some fancy dish."  Ben trailed off when he realized what he'd said.

 

"Well, you don't have to worry about that around me.  A burger is like a steak to me.  If there's one on the menu, I'm more than likely to order it."  Craig sipped his beer before asking.  "Have you lived here all your life?"

 

"Yeah, my father had an air conditioning business, and my mom was from a wealthy southern family.  She didn't want my father working at all, but that's all my father ever knew when as he grew up.  He came from a line of farmers.  They were quite the pair.  In fact, they left the town a large sum of money for a park and gardens."

 

Craig sat his beer down.  "You're kidding me!  That's what I'm here for.  My father's company is contracted to build the park and gardens.  He's handling the building, and I'm over the landscaping.  I came early to scope the place out.  Of course the weather has caused a lot of delays, but I was hoping to find someone who knew his way around.  Seems, it's my lucky day.  I can't pay a lot, but I'll pay you a salary and make sure you have a place to stay.  If you work out, it could turn into something permanent if you're interested.  But, it won't be some fancy office job, mind you."

 

Tears started streaming down Ben's face, and wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried to stem them.  "I don't know what to say."  Ben sniffed loudly before continuing.  "You've done too much already.  I'll be glad to show you around.  You don't have to pay me."

 

"But, I do.  I was going to hire some of the local folks anyway.  Whadda you say?  We got a deal?"  Craig wanted to cry himself when he saw the tears of joy streaming down Ben's face.

 

"Yeah, deal."  Ben smiled through his tears as he reached across the table to shake Craig's hand.

 

***

 

The next couple of months passed in a blur.  Both men worked from daylight until dark, coming in, taking a shower, eating, and hitting the sack.  The weather had cleared, enabling equipment to be delivered and construction to begin. 

 

Ben had stopped to pick up dinner for him and Craig, knowing Craig had a conference call with his father this evening.  He put the food on the table and headed for the shower, thankful things had gone well at the site today and they'd gotten off before dark.  Hearing the door open he turned to see Craig come through it, grinning from ear to ear.

 

"You look like the cat that ate the canary.  Good news from your father?"  Ben smiled at his rescuer, employer, but above all, friend.

 

"Yep, which do you want first?  It involves you."

 

"Really?  Talk.  I want to know."

 

Craig grinned mischievously.  You're now not only my permanent employee, but my assistant.  My dad's been so impressed with your work that he wants to make sure you stay so he told me to make you an offer."  Craig said an amount that caused Ben's eyes to grow big as saucers.

 

"You're kidding.  I'm so excited.  I don't deserve that much money though.  You've done so much for me by just giving me a job."

 

"Don't you see, Ben?  If you hadn't had the knowledge of numbers and figures, I would've had to call dad everyday, or he'd been having to make trips down here.  Instead, you've been doing it for him.  Plus, there's a town about forty miles from here that their mayor has been here lurking about, and he wants our company to build a park with pavilions and a children's playground in his town.  So, I guess we need to get us an apartment.  We can't live out of this motel room for the next six or eight months."  Craig watched all the emotions fleeting across Ben's face.

 

"I'm sure that new apartment complex they built here last year has a couple of apartments.  Do you want to check on them for you?" 

 

"Why would we need two?  We've gotten along in one room for almost two months.  Surely we could live in an apartment together."  Craig knew Ben was clueless, but had to keep pushing.

 

"Um, ok.  Do you want two or three bedrooms.  I'll get a big one so you'll have some privacy.  You might want to have company."

 

"Like who?  Have I indicated that I had someone that I wanted to visit me?"

 

"Well, I thought maybe you had a girlfriend or..."

 

"Nope, all the company I want is the adorable, attractive, sweet, humble man standing in front of me.  He's all I need.  He brought warmth into my life on a cold winter's day.  When he stumbled into my life and needed me, I needed him more.  It took me awhile to realize it, but I do.  So, if he'll have me, I'd like to share a home with him."

 

"Oh yeah, he'll have you, for as long as you like."  Ben was crying as he walked nervously to Craig, holding out his arms.

 

Craig walked into Ben's arms, kissing him like they'd done it a thousand times before.  They were a perfect fit, and they both felt it.  So yeah, everything happens for a purpose, and Ben ending up in Craig's room was meant to be.

Edited February 15, 2014 by joann414

[Sasha Distan]

Sanctuary

 

“How did you get into my room?”

I stared at the rather good looking young man from my position on the carpet and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Bloody hell, you’re soaked.”

He wasn’t much better in that sense, standing in the doorway, coat dripping onto the parquet floor of the hallway, hair dishevelled, looking generally damp and messy. The young man ran his fingers through his hair again and disappeared to hang his coat in a room which smelt and echoed like a bathroom.

“You coming then? You’re gonna leave a wet patch on my carpet!”

I got up, and wandered across into the bathroom, leaving wet marks wherever I put my feet. He was shirtless, belt undone and the top stud of his jeans open. There were wet clothes and a damp towel in the bottom of the bath being dripped on by the coat which hung on the rail. I stood on the bathmat and dripped while he rubbed me down with a big teal fluffy towel. I burrowed out from underneath it to look at him.

“You’re a mess. ‘spect both of us need a decent comb eh?”

I yawned.

“Dinner first?”

I nodded. I followed him through the little flat and into the open plan kitchen. It had been hell getting here through the rain, the sky had opened up like the overflow of a giant’s bath. And then I discovered that the flat was on the first floor, and scrambling up the fence onto the flat swamped roof of the shed was annoying. It had been leaping through the cracked open window which had been painful, and I’d scraped the skin of my ankle coming through. I flopped on the sofa as my young host began to clatter about with pans and ingredients, and after a bit there was the scent of meat and the delicious sound of things frying. I looked him expectantly.

“Yes, it’s steak. You are lucky. If you’d come in yesterday it would’ve been mash and cheap sausages. I treated myself for the weekend.” He scraped the pan a bit and poured in something which smelt like meat juices and fizzed before filing the room with a thick gamey aroma. “You want onion gravy?”

 

No, I did not.

 

He ate sitting at the breakfast bar and I ate standing. I had steak and gravy and chewed the cartilage and gristle between my back teeth, and he had his with bright green broccoli florets and a glass of wine.

“I’m Peter, by the way.”

I smiled, and kept on eating.

Afterwards I lay on the sofa, and Peter sat at the far end. Warm, sated and happy, it would have been easy to go to sleep, but Peter took my ankle into his lap and pulled out a little green medical kit from under the coffee table.

“Let’s have a look at that foot. You came in through the window? I wish you’d waited.” Peter began to dab at the scraped skin with an antiseptic wipe which stung and made my grit my teeth. “Mam told me you’d be coming, but she never mentioned you’d be quite so… beautiful.” He wrapped a clean white bandage

I glanced at him, head on one side, pillowed against the corner of the sofa. He stroked the top of my foot with warm fingers. It was pleasant, warm, safe, and I was tired from travelling and breaking in. Peter turned his stereo on low, but it was hard to concentrate on the music, and I drifted as he picked up a book, continuing to stroke my foot and bandaged ankle. I was too comfortable to stay awake, and dozed while Peter read.

 

He shook me awake very gently. It was dark out, and not the dreary dark of rain, but the black of proper night time, and the wind rattled against the windows, whistling through the tiny gaps around the frame.

“It’s late bud. Bed time, come on.”

I followed him without thinking. Peter brushed his teeth, turned down the quilt on the bed, and left his jeans and socks in a puddle by the side of the bed before climbing in. I waited, blinking, for him to get comfortable, before climbing up, sneaking under the covers and curling into a ball. I wasn’t really awake, and it was easy to fall back into deep sleep.

 

I woke sometimes in the early hours of the morning, too early to be awake, stretched and rolled over, to find Peter awake and looking at me.

“Hey.”

I yawned, but now my jaw didn’t creak. It was colder without fur.

“Your bed is comfy.”

“Thanks.” Peter reached out and stroked the side of my jaw. My hair was completely disarrayed. “You are really beautiful.”

“Umm…”

“Mam never told me your name.”

“James.”

“A werewolf called James? A bit incongruous isn’t it.”

“Sure, ‘cause ‘Peter’ is such a cool name for a Rectory Officer.”

Peter laughed, a tiny chuckle, and blushed when I ran a hand up his arm.

“You’re naked.”

“That happens.”

“You never actually said the words you know.” Peter smiled, his cheeks pink and his eyes sparkling with lust.”

“I was sort of incapacitated.” I pushed closer to him, getting my head on the pillow, pulling him closer to my new body.

“Say it.” Peter’s voice was husky and low and full of tones that made me ache. He closed the distance between us, less than inches between our lips and no space between our bodies. “Say it.”

“Sanctuary.” I smiled, tilting my head to kiss him, feeling the phantom wag of my long-gone tail. “I claim sanctuary.”

[joann414]

I almost edited my story, but didn't.  This came out of the blue, and I wrote it in like an hour or so. flash fiction deserves mistakes:P  thanks for reading my mess.

[Jammi]

All That Matters

 

“How did you get into my room?” I asked staring at the man who dared to invade my private sanctuary.  Though there was a part of me who was glad he was there, I wouldn’t let him know that.

 

I couldn’t.

 

“I needed to talk to you.”  He was looking me straight in the eye as he spoke.  His gaze was intense, and I almost forgot that he hadn’t answered my question.

 

Almost.

 

“There are these contraptions,” I said crossing my arms in front of me, “I believe they are called phones.  You should learn how to use one.”

 

“Don’t be like that, DJ.”

 

“No.” I said shaking my head as I came further into the room.  I forced myself to stop by the dresser, leaving a considerable amount of distance between us.  “See, you don’t get to do that.  You don’t get to come in here, and use that nickname and think I’m just going to fall at your feet.  It doesn’t work that way, Jeremy.”

 

“You never called either.”

 

I opened my mouth to counter, but what could I say?  He was right.  I was just as much to blame for the rift as he was.  I certainly hadn’t done anything to repair it. 

 

Not that I didn’t want to. 

 

I just didn’t know how.

 

“What are you doing here, Jeremy?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded as firm as I wanted it to. 

 

“I told you.  I wanted to talk to you.  I needed to see you, DJ.”

 

“It’s been six months.  Why now?”

 

Jeremy was sitting on my bed, holding a book on his lap.  It was only after he set it down that I realized it wasn’t just any book.  It was a photo album.

 

Our photo album.

 

“Will you come sit down?” He asked, his eyes locked on mine.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  You know that.”

 

I closed my eyes momentarily and let out the breath I’d been holding.  I didn’t really want to sit down.  I didn’t want to be close to him at all.

 

At least that was what I kept telling myself, even as I moved forward and settled down on the bed.  The book of photos was the only thing between us. 

 

Then why did I feel like we were so far apart?

 

“Your window was unlocked.”

 

I looked at him then, studying the expression on his face.  Gone was the smug look he wore before.  He looked tired and worn, and his eyes seemed dimmer somehow.  It was as if the light had been turned off, shrouding him in a cloak of darkness.  It was kind of sad really. 

 

I had always liked his eyes.

 

“So what?” I asked focusing my attention straight ahead.  “You took that as an invitation to come right in?” 

 

I knew I was fighting a losing battle.  There was no way I could remain mad at Jeremy for long.  Especially not when he was sitting this close.  I was going to hold on as long as I could though.  He had to know that I was angry. 

 

He needed to know that I was hurt.

 

“DJ, I know you want answers.”

 

“Don’t you think I deserve them?” I interrupted him.  “Don’t you think I deserve that much?  You just-” I stopped, biting my lip as I tried to gather my thoughts.  They were a volatile mix at the moment.    There was a bit of anger, and a lot of sadness mixed in with the pain I hadn’t allowed myself to admit, and the sheer joy that came with seeing him again.  It was all there, battling for dominance.  And the scary part was I didn’t know which emotion would win.

 

Jeremy, for his credit didn’t even flinch.  At that moment I wished I could read him.  When we first met his calmness had been part of what attracted me to him.  He had this way of making molehills out of mountains that intrigued me.  It was such the reverse of myself, and exactly what I needed.  Nothing fazed him.

 

“I just what, DJ?” He asked.  His voice was laced with concern, and it was enough to melt the ice around my heart.  Here I was ready to rage at him, and he was still my calm. 

 

“I’m scared.” I admitted avoiding his question directly.  I faced him head on, determined not to look away this time.  He had come to talk, and he was right we needed to do that.  No matter how this turned out, this was a conversation we needed to have.

 

“Of me?”

 

“No,” I answered vehemently.  I shook my head for emphasis and ran my fingers through my hair.  I couldn’t have him thinking that I was afraid of him.

 

Upset with him? 

 

Yes.

 

In love with him?

 

Head over heels.

 

Scared of him?

 

Never.

 

“I’m afraid of what will happen if I allow myself to lash out at you.” I admitted finally.  “I want to tell you how happy I am to see you.  I want you to know how excited I am to have you here after so long.  I missed you Jeremy.  I missed talking to you, and touching you and kissing you.” 

 

I whispered those last words and I was rewarded with a small smile.  It was the first sign of true emotion I had seen out of him and it gave me the courage to continue.

 

“I missed seeing your smile, and hearing your laugh.  I missed the way you could calm my rage with a simple look and ease my fears with just a sound.  I missed waking up beside you every day, and falling asleep with you every night.  I missed your fingers in my hair as I read the morning paper, and the look of concentration on your face as you tried to solve those Sudoku puzzles you like so much.”

 

“DJ-”

 

“And I hate it,” I interrupted him again.  “I hate that I feel this way.  That I can’t stop thinking about you.  And that all I want to do is close this distance between us and hold you tight and never let go.  I hate that it’s been six months since you walked out that door and never looked back.  I hate that you’re so fucking calm while I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack.  Does any of this even upset you?”

 

The silence was maddening.  I have never been a fan of quiet.  It allowed too much time for thinking, which inevitably led to worse possible scenarios.

 

I wished he would say something.

 

“I did miss you, DJ.  That’s why I’m here.  I couldn’t stand to be away from you for another minute, and I know I owe you an explanation.  I know I need to tell you exactly what happened six months ago.  I need you to know that I didn’t abandon you, DJ.  Leaving you was not my choice and I came to you as soon as it was humanly possible.”

 

‘What does that even mean?”  I forced those words out, trying not to choke on the emotion clogging my throat.  Worst case scenarios were my specialty.  His words had me thinking tons of things.  Had he been hurt?  Was he okay?  Did someone kidnap him?    Sometimes I hated my imagination.

 

I saw a flash of something that looked a lot like pain.  He was hurt, and that was enough to make me stop and take a mental step back. 

 

He looked tired, and there were dark circles under his eyes.  His usually well-kept hair was disheveled and his shoulders were slumped.  Somehow I had missed those signals when I first laid eyes on him.  I had allowed my feelings to blind me to what was right in front of me.  I had missed something.  Something huge.

 

I moved the photo album out of the way and scooted closer until our legs touched.  He looked at me, and I smiled, taking one of his hands into mine as I met his gaze head on.

 

“How did you get into my room?” I voiced the question that had started this.

 

“I climbed through the window, like you always said I could.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I don’t care what anyone says or what anyone thinks anymore.  I can’t stay away from you.”

 

Of all the things I expected him to say, that hadn’t been one of them.  The fear was back in my heart as I placed my arm around him and pulled him closer to me.

 

He reciprocated easily enough, wrapping me in his embrace where I immediately felt safe and warm.  I had so many questions, but like magic they faded away the moment his fingers touched my skin. 

 

The crazy thing was that I knew I would get my answers.  I knew Jeremy would explain it to me, and I had no doubt that I would understand.  For now all that mattered was that Jeremy was in my room.  That simple fact meant so much.

 

 I knew Jeremy would tell me all I needed to know about the last six months, but for now I only cared that he was here. 

 

Because if Jeremy was in my room, it meant he loved me too.

 

[Valkyrie]

“How did you get into my room?”

Ethan looked in exasperated wonder at the little orange tiger kitten sleeping in a pile of his underwear. Somehow the little shit had managed to open one of his dresser drawers and have a bit of a free-for-all with his unmentionables. “Stupid kitten.” He grumbled.

The cat was a couple years old now; not so much a kitten anymore. He was a gift from Rick for their one-month anniversary. The cat was a little spitfire and Ethan never ceased to be amazed at the predicaments the little animal got itself into. Ethan sighed and shook his head. He thought he had shooed the cat out of his bedroom before he left for work this morning, but apparently it ran back in when Ethan opened the door to retrieve the jacket he had forgotten. The reason he didn’t want the cat in his room was readily apparent. His box of Kleenex was shredded all over the room, the lamp on his nightstand was knocked over (but thankfully not broken), and his aforementioned underwear was strewn about the room and currently serving as a cat bed. In addition, everything that was on his dresser was now either on the floor or batted around the room. Ethan gave a sigh of relief. The carnage could have been a lot worse. The only casualty appeared to be the murdered box of Kleenex.

Ethan started cleaning up the mess the little devil cat created as the orange fluff-ball yawned and stretched, then wove between his legs, purring. After tripping over the cat for the third time, Ethan picked it up in frustration and turned to deposit it outside his room so he could straighten it out in peace. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.” He told the cat.

Ethan took one step towards the door and heard a loud crunch. He set the cat down to look at what he stepped on. It was a framed picture of Ethan and Rick on a Florida beach, taken a year ago. The glass was shattered. Ethan made a small noise and slid to the ground next to the dresser. He picked up the picture with shaking hands and gently removed the photo from the broken frame. He closed his eyes and clutched the picture to his chest. It had been six months since Rick left. Six months since Ethan found out that his boyfriend of two years was just using him as a placeholder until his “real” boyfriend was back in the States after studying abroad. Ethan had truly loved Rick. He had thought that they were making a life together. When he told him that, Rick laughed at him saying “you knew what this was.” Then he walked out the door.

The past six months had passed in a bit of a blur for Ethan. He woke up in the morning, got dressed, went to work, ate his meals, went to bed, and went through all the motions. He felt like such a fool. His friends told him how they never liked Rick and thought he was just using him. Ethan snorted. It would have been nice if someone had told him that! Not that he would have listened. He looked at the glass shards in the frame and scowled. He thought it was a perfect metaphor for what his life had become. Ethan gasped with the realization of just how much of a hold this prick still had on him. He threw the remnants of the frame against the wall with an anguished cry. He looked at the picture in his hand one last time and crumpled it up before it re-joined its former home. He wondered what he ever saw in the asshole.

He was suddenly glad that the cat got into his room. The little animal crawled into Ethan’s lap and head-butted his chin. He stroked the cat’s soft orange fur and smiled. For the first time since Rick left, he felt like he could move on.

[comicfan]

My take on this and the conclusion to Max's Ring.

 

https://www.gayauthors.org/story/comicfan/apromptaweek/7

[Ron]

The Remarkable Unremembered Boy

By R.L. Hunter

 

 

“How did you get into my room?”

 

Tom stood in his doorway, waiting for an answer to his question. A figure was sitting in shadow on the swivel chair placed in front of his computer desk. In fact, that entire end of his room was in shadow, and Tom just now realized it and how strange that was, considering he had flipped the switch for the overhead light.

 

“Do you remember when we met?” The figure asked. He, it was definitely a he, and his voice had a light, musical quality about it. Tom thought he heard birds singing in the background.

 

“What do you want?” asked Tom. He reached for the door jamb to steady himself. “Who are you?”

 

A hand with long delicate fingers reached from the shadows to point at the bed. Tom looked to where the finger was pointing to find a beautifully painted wooden bird. The paint was so fine, it almost looked like a real feathered bird.

 

“Please. Pick it up.”

 

***

 

 

The rest of my prompt can be found here. I hope you enjoy it.

[Slytherin]

I loved you prompt, Ron !

[ColumbusGuy]

Here's my shot at this one--part of a new story.

 

https://www.gayauthors.org/story/columbusguy/talesofthreeworlds/1