It’s time for April’s flash fic. We’ve all be given the same photo and have to come up with a story based on the image. This is this month’s photo.
I’m visiting the world of my poor, so-very neglected serial, Your Lies, which I hope to have new chapters on very soon. It’s on my list!
This story isn’t about the hero or heroine of the serial but a follow up to a couple of flash fiction pieces I did from this world.
For this piece, I’m in Male #2’s POV. It’s just a short, little peice as I’m neck deep in my current work-in-progress. So here we go…
“Why don’t you just go and talk to him?” Delia nudged my shoulder. “You keep staring…and his friend left, so he’s alone, now.”
I sighed. “Don’t you recognize him? He’s steadfastly anti-magic, and I’m…” I cleared my throat and looked around, “a Sympathizer.”
She knew I was more than that, of course. That I was a Magic User, and if it were up to him, I’d not only only be banned from campus, but likely burned at the stake.
“Have you ever talked to him?” she asked quietly. “He hangs around Maddock, and you know he’s coming around, not seeing everything so black and white.”
I snorted. “He’s not Maddock. Yes, the anti-magic angle is a huge-ass deterrent, but it’s more than that.”
After a couple moments of silence, Delia touched my hand. “I’m listening.”
“We grew up together. Knew each other pretty well.” Despite the direction of my thoughts, my memories, I couldn’t help but smile. “God, I had the hugest crush on him. Then, one summer, it seemed like maybe all my lusty boyhood wishes were about to come true.”
Delia laughed softly, though it had an edge of sadness to it, because obviously, this didn’t have a happy ending.
“He asked me out. Fuck, I was so happy, so excited. Then, his sister died.”
“Oh.” Her gaze shifted over to where he sat, on his tablet, completely unaware that he was the subject of our conversation.
“I didn’t realize that was the end of it all, at first. It was horrible, yeah, and we didn’t go on our date, but I thought… Well, it doesnt matter what I thought. The next school year, he’d changed. He was completley different. He was suddenly tight with Nick and Kevin and Mark.”
She grimaced. I didn’t have to explain any farther. Those three were the most ardent, borderline violent of the anti-magic crowd here on campus.
“In high school, they weren’t as outspoken about magic, but they took great pleasure in tormenting me and anyone else they even suspected of being gay. I’m assuming he’s,” I jerked my head toward the other table, “firmly in the closet, now.”
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, leaning into me. “That fucking sucks.”
“Yeah, it really does.” I pressed my lips together then sighed again. “I don’t think he’s…evil or anything. I don’t even think he’s like the crowd he hangs with. I wish I could figure out why he hangs with them. But I’ve long-accepted that nothing could ever happen with us.”
“But you still wish it could.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Does it matter?” I didn’t wait for her answer and stood, shouldering my bag. “Come on; we’re going to be late for class.”
She got to her feet, as well, then leaned to whisper in my ear. “You should know, though, that he’s been looking at you just as often as you’ve been looking at him. Maybe it’s not so hopeless.”
Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I glanced over. Sure enough, my gaze met his…and held for several long moments. Until he very deliberately looked away and angled his body away from us.
Anger eclipsed everything else I was feeling. The asshole. Without thinking, I let my magic free – just a bit – enough to knock his coffee cup from the edge of the table onto his lap. And all over his tablet.
Served him right, I thought as he jumped up, scrambling for the stack of napkins on the table. Delia pulled me none too gently from the coffee shop.
“Being an ass to him won’t change anything,” she admonished once we were outside. “And I’d guess it doesn’t make you stop wishing, does it?”
“Made me feel a little better, though.” At least for a little while.