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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/964446-April-2005
Rated: E · Other · Emotional · #964446
They can't both be happy....(Only 400 words, trying to write a story in present tense)
He stirs and opens his eyes slowly, blinking against the darkness of the bedroom. It is always completely dark here, with no city lights, and you can see the stars. He likes being able to see the stars.

A soft breeze is tracing over him, warm through the light sheet. He turns over slowly, looking for the source, and sees the door standing open, and as the breeze billows the gauzy curtains, a beam of moonlight cuts across the bed. The other side of the bed is empty, the pillow crushed. She always clings to something while she sleeps. Sometimes it is the pillow or the blanket. Sometimes him.

Sighing, he swings himself out of bed and draws aside the swinging curtain. He can see her, silhouetted at the edge of the terrace, looking out over the wild grass until it slopes down to the ocean in the distance. Usually the house is too far away to hear the ocean, but the sea has been rough and tonight he can hear waves crashing over the rocks.

Despite the warm night, the stone terrace feels cold under his feet. He comes up behind her and she turns and gives him a fleeting smile before turning away quickly, but not before the moonlight catches tears pooled in her eyes. He slides his arms around her and she leans back against him. He takes comfort in the touch even though he has no idea what to say. After a moment she speaks so softly that he can barely hear her even in the stillness.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know what for, and he guesses she doesn’t really know either.

“We can go back, you know,” he says softly, close to her ear.

She turns then to look at him, her eyes wide. She says nothing, but he can see her asking him the question with the wide-eyed breathlessness. She wants him to say it again, more firmly, more decisively, without the vague question in his voice. He combs his fingers through her hair and wills himself to say it again, like he means it.

“We can go back.”

He wants to ask her why. Why she’s not happy. What does she need that he can’t give her? But she slips her arms around him and leans her head against his chest, and he decides maybe it’s better not to know.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/964446-April-2005