Hello again. Shall we try something new for a change?
15) Try Again
"Am I going to finish my problem set?" Green shakes the magic eight ball. Try Again.
His homework covers his desk, a perfect disorder. He hates problem number seven. It hates him too. "What's the answer to 7D?" Try Again. "What is the answer to life?" Try Again. He considers chucking the toy onto his bed, but his girlfriend is there editing her history paper. She's swinging her legs back and forth like criss-crossing pendulums.
She's wearing boy shorts.
They make her legs look nice.
"Am I going to get laid tonight?" Try Again. He gives up and tosses it, just in time for Blue to catch it.
She smiles. "Am I going to get laid?"
He scowls. "What does that mean?"
Her lips purse to keep from laughing. "I don't know. Try again."
16) Tower Block
Blue's hands shake as she gently wiggles the wooden block out of its place. Her hands are jittery even as the Jenga piece falls lightly into them. The boys groan. Yellow cheers for her. She peeks into the hole left behind in the tower and sees Green's disappointed face. It makes her laugh. The stakes are always higher when burritos enter the mix. She pauses when she sees a sliver of pink run across his lips. Did he just...? There it is again. Yes, he is trying to seduce her through a jenga tower to distract her, the sly bastard. She easily drops the piece onto the top, not even fazed. When it's his turn, she casually paws at his knee with her toes. It shocks him so much that he topples the whole tower over.
"I like my burritos with lots of guacamole," she laughs.
He hates guacamole.
They're sitting in the Pokemon center, outside the emergency room, sweaty and tired. He has a cut in his right calf where a Rocket's Seviper nicked him with its tail. He isn't poisoned. They checked. She, for the most part, is unharmed. There's a blistering burn on the tip of her left thumb, but she hasn't shown anyone. She knows Ditty is suffering much worse.
They wait, wait for the nurse that will give them the tray of their pokeballs, wait for their pokemon to come out, happy and healthy and ready to get hurt again.
"Do you want to go out after this?"
He stops shuffling his feet along the floor to ask. It's odd and a bit insensitive that he would ask her now while their pokemon are under a scalpel, but she understands. Silence is scary.
She clenches her teeth, thinking of the offer. Really, weeks of sexual tension between them while they were making their way to the heart of Team Rocket's base, and he wants to resolve it here, in creaky lounge chairs, sweaty and sticky, covered in dirt. How unromantic.
"Only if... if the nurse comes out." She nods towards the emergency room where their pokemon are. They're waiting for the nurse because if the doctor comes out instead... well, they don't really want to think about that. It's sadistic to bet this date on their pokemon's health, but she feels she couldn't be happy if they aren't. He nods in agreement.
The emergency doors open, and they both crane their heads to look.
"I hate you."
He glances at her, rolling her words around his head, his book popped up on his chest. He gives her the slight raise of an eyebrow before returning to his paragraph. It makes her frown into his shoulder. Their legs are tangled together, and she runs a toe down his ankle, tracing the knob of his heel. No reaction.
"I hate you. I hate hate hate hate hate ha- " She's cut off with a warm mouth. His slick tongue swipes across the corner of her mouth, and she happily gives him passage. There's a moan, a nibble at her bottom lip, and then he disconnects, his lips slightly puffy, a pretty pink.
He quirks his lips and says, "You're so anno-" He never finishes.
19) Spider Web
Green's father had once told him all women were sirens. Yes, he was happily married with Mom. No, he didn't regret it at all. But women have their way of slowly creeping into men's hearts and minds and ensnaring them so that the men were never quite themselves anymore.
Green was ten then, and now he's twenty-four. He disagrees with his father because the woman he knows isn't a siren; she's a spider. For thirteen years, she's been weaving a web around him, tugging him around in circles, neatly tying knots so that he can't escape no matter how much he struggles. She must have poisoned him at one point because he doesn't struggle anymore. Now she's tied him up, primed him for her meal. Her fangs bear, and she goes in for the kill.
"I love you," she says with large blue eyes, neatly tucking her hand in his.
And he's done, dead, and he knows he'll never escape.
20) White Wash
Green sits in a dining chair, one he brought into the bedroom since their house isn't fully furnished yet. They don't even have a real bed. Blue is lying down on the air mattress, surrounded by plastic covers on the floor that prevent the paint from dripping on the carpet. She's as white as the newly painted walls, and her pulse is slowly fading. Paleness is a side effect of the poison, the doctor said. Green feels as though if he runs a brush with whitewash down her cheek, he wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
Red and Yellow have run off to find the perpetrator, to find an antidote. They aren't sixteen anymore. It's been years since they actively fought crime, but that doesn't make a difference to people who bear grudges.
Green isn't the type to wait, but he can't leave either, not while she's struggling to breathe or so cold and pale. So he sits, painting his arm white with whitewash because he doesn't know what else to do. She makes a small noise, her eyes peering at him under heavy lids, and he knows that's her beckoning for him to come. He leaves the brush and plops gently onto the bed next to her, holding her white hand with his own whitewashed hand. He can barely see the lines that draw them apart.
"Now?" Green called through the door.
"Yes, now!" Green had never known Blue to be the shrill type but there it was.
"I don't know about now." He was glad she couldn't see through doors because he couldn't help but smile.
"Now, Green! Or else I'll go in and get your ass out here. I can't believe you! I can't -," Her scream of frustration was muffled by the door, but he could imagine her cheeks flushed, her teeth clenched, her hands itching to reach into her hair and rip it all out. It was weird how hot he thought that was. He should probably get that checked.
"I mean, the first guy I start dating in months - and I mean months because no guy would even come within a fifty foot radius of me knowing I was your ex-girlfriend - the first guy, so sweet and smart too, and you scare him off. I can't believe you. I can't - I mean - what the hell! I'm going to strangle you if you do not come out right now and explain yourself. Actually I might just strangle you anyway."
Green thought that wasn't very good incentive to get him out, but she was insistent so he opened the bathroom door. There was a pause that sat heavily between them. To her credit, her eyes did not roam below his waist, and she did not blush. Her eyes only narrowed, and she seethed through clenched teeth, "Put on a towel. And wipe off that smile or I'll wipe it off for you."
Her eyes slide away from the words of her novel up to the man sitting across from her on the train. They both sway in time with the rattling on the tracks. He looks off to the side, chin propped up on his hand. He looks like the kind of person that life just walks by, though she knows that that wasn't always true, which doesn't make sense because this is the first time she's met him. Still she sneaks glances at him, and her thoughts are displayed clearly on her face because, in this life, she wears her heart on her sleeve. Who are you, she blinks at him like she's sending a message in Morse code. He doesn't catch her message and shifts a little.
Disheartened, she goes back to the novel though the words slip out of her head like sand between her fingers. She knows and she doesn't know. She knows there's a connection between them, but she doesn't know that it's from a past life. In fact, many past lives. Classmates, coworkers, friends, lovers, enemies, and in some lives, strangers. They've played the whole spectrum. They have learned each other inside and out. It's just a matter of relearning.
She closes her book, stands up, and sits down next to him. He raises his eyebrow at her for a moment but schools his face to neutrality as he realizes he is being rude.
"Hi. Hello." She leans out to look at him in the face. "My name is Blue." She holds out a hand.
He looks at her for a moment, looking her in the eyes in the way only familiar people can. He takes her hand.
He lazily swipes at her hands, but she just laughs and swats his own hands away so she can continue. She drums his bare stomach, smiling at the shallow smacks when she hits bone and the deep rumbles when she strikes flesh. She adds kisses to the mix, kisses to his ribs, to his stomach, long squelching squeals that tickle. His stomach is turning red, but he finds he doesn't mind that much. She goes faster and faster until she has a drumroll and then she attaches her lip just above his belly button and blows, letting out a loud raspberry. He jerks because it tickles too much and takes advantage of her surprise to grab her hands. He bundles her up and hold her to him so she can't move.
She laughs and punctuates her symphony with a smacking kiss to his cheek.
24) On My Mind
Green hated Bill. Bill might be a genius, and machines that transmit thoughts selectively might be helpful for communication on missions, but it was stupid that he and Blue should be guinea pigs. Maybe him and Red. Definitely not him and Blue.
Having trouble there, Green?
Green growled. He didn't need that woman to be in his head.
That's mean. I thought we were all friends here. What's a thought between two friends?
Friends? Hardly. Not with the way they she flirted shamelessly with him.
Oh I'm glad. I was beginning to get worried that you didn't notice. Ever thought of asking me out on a date? A pause. Really? I wouldn't mind going to a movie though I think we should leave that kinkiness out until the second date.
Green reached up, shut off the headset transmitting his thoughts, and snatched back the curtain separating him and Blue. She looked at him with an expression that was surprisingly blank, though her lips were twitching with a threat to burst out into a grin.
"Something the matter?" She was all innocence.
Bill poked his head in the room. "Is something wrong? I lost one of your signals."
"Nothing's wrong, Bill. I need to talk to this one in private for a moment. Excuse us." He snatched Blue's hand just as she placed her headset down and dragged her out of the room. Blue looked back and gave Bill a thumbs up. Bill laughed a little and rolled his eyes as he returned the gesture.
AN: Yes, this does count as ten submissions. No I'm not cheating. Right? All of the prompts were taken from 100_prompts community on livejournal.
I find it more difficult to write longer stories than when I was younger because I feel like the ideas I have don't fill long stories very well. I did try to keep to a 150 word limit on these, but I got bored of doing that around halfway through. I wonder if anyone finds that my writing style has changed. It has been about 6 years, and I can't imagine it's the same.
Anyway, I would love feedback as always. Which was your favorite? After reading through these again (and fixing grammar mistakes), probably Passing is my favorite. I just like the idea of people being connected through several lives. I have a feeling people aren't too fond of the new drabble format. Tell me if you are (and if you aren't). Thanks for sticking with me.