A/N: Good afternoon, my loves.
Sigh. As some of you might know, throughout Covid and all the changes it's presented, my Muse has been a flighty bitch. Last Christmas, for example, she went on a long, tropical vacation and abandoned me here to the cold northeast. Although at the moment, she's not exactly on vacation, she is threatening to leave for parts unknown.
Therefore, in an effort to appease her and try to convince her to stick around and see the leaves change color, maybe hand out Halloween candy with me, I'm trying something new. It's something I've never done – a drabble fic. I'm hoping she'll have fun with this and thereby get back into it full swing. We'll see. She's such a high-maintenance pain.
So, this is an idea that came to me last night. Instead of adding it to my long list of 'Fics I Hope to Write Someday,' it'll be a drabble. Now, I looked up drabble, lol, and apparently, the definition is: 'A short work of fiction of precisely one hundred words in length.'
This definition also goes on to explain that many times, a drabble is a bit longer than 100 words, but to challenge myself – since I tend to be a wordy bitch – I'm going to try to stick to the 100-word definition!
Read the closing A/N for more info. I hope you guys enjoy it! :)
Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.
Summary: Bella Swan is about to learn that we rarely escape a reckoning for our mistakes, regardless of how much time passes or how much space we put between those mistakes and ourselves. This is especially true when that reckoning involves broken hearts.
Chapter 1 - Landing
"On behalf of British Airways, welcome to Seattle-Tacoma Airport. The time is 11:40 a.m., and the temperature is…"
The mist fogging the small, first-class window makes the pilot's forecast superfluous. He segues into gate-and-baggage info, already available on my mobile – or should I now say phone?
My mind wanders.
Is he already here for the wedding?
After twelve years, how will he look?
No. I'm home now, where the truth is as unavoidable as Seattle's mist.
It hasn't really been twelve years.
Will he remember our short weekend a decade ago?
And does he hate me for how it ended?
Q: How long will this be?
A: I have no idea. It's a drabble, so…
Q: Where is this going?
A: I'm not entirely sure. (Read my Author's page for info on HEAs).
Q: How often will it update?
A: I'll update whenever I've got 100 words ready.
Q: What do I do if I hate it?
A: I'm not answering that. ;)
Q: What will YOU do if I review and/or PM you to let you know how much I hate it?
A: Depends on how you express yourself. ;)
Facebook: Stories by PattyRose
"See" you soon!