I stumbled upon the
Flash Fiction Carnival 2008, listed on
Absolute Write, and thought, "What the hey?" It's a way to prod the muse without the pressure of publishing looming over me. The prompt this time around was NEW, and I bring you . . . fluff.
***
The stranger in her bed was about a hundred and eighty pounds of solid muscle, thankfully fully clothed. Other than a vague memory of promising him a kiss at midnight, Sybil had no idea who he was. He was cute, though, in a way-too-good-for-her frat boy sort of way. She was pretty sure he’d take one look at her sober, and beam directly back to planet Cool. They always did. Aside from co-hosting the occasional rockin’ beer-bash, Sybil was a social outcast. She had half a mind to climb back under the covers, but thought better of it. Still, those few precious seconds between sleep and waking, tucked snuggly in his arms had been . . . sweet.
She found Craig and Ellen in the kitchen, performing their normal post-party ritual. To the uneducated eye, it looked a little like two blind sailors tilting back and forth through a ship’s galley dumping random items into a large bowl. But Sybil smiled as she watched them, reaching over and under and past each other in a long-practiced dance. Some things never changed – and after the year she’d had, Sybil liked that idea. The familiarity of seeing her roommates clean up and make breakfast after an all-night thrasher felt like home.
“Syb, is your
friend staying for pancakes, or what?” Craig asked, cracking eggs one handed and tossing the shells in the sink.
Sybil wrinkled her nose at him as she peeked over the counter. “I guess I’ll go ask him,” she answered, dipping her finger into the batter before huffing back down the hallway.
She kicked her bedroom door open and let it fling into the nightstand, but the occupant of her bed didn’t flinch. Sybil opened the blinds, bathing the room in hazy late-morning sun, to no avail. She finally sighed, reached down, and poked his shoulder. He stirred awake, blearily blinking his eyes at his surroundings. Sybil leaned against the door with her hands pressed behind her as his gaze finally settled on her.
“Morning, Sybil,” he smiled, sitting up.
“Yeah, hi,” she answered blandly. An awkward silence followed, where he looked at her expectantly and she looked everywhere but at her anonymous man-candy guest, a flush steadily crawling up her neck.
“You don’t remember my name, do you?” he sat up, chuckling softly.
“Breakfast?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Sounds great,” frat-boy answered, as he stood up and stretched. He shuffled past her with an ironic smile, leaving Sybil scowling at his back and mentally fumbling through her memories of the night before.
Breakfast was strange. Tom introduced himself to Craig and Ellen, and then socialized as if he’d been invited for tea. Sybil wondered what was really up with his Mr. Roger’s act. She made every attempt at insinuating her suspicion, to which Tom’s only response was a serene smile. Craig and Ellen were thoroughly charmed, especially when he offered to clear the table.
“No, really. That’s okay - you can go,” Sybil said, grabbing a stack of plates from his hands.
“I don’t mind,” was all he replied.
The clean up went quickly, and Craig and Ellen were ecstatic at Tom’s generous help, extending an open-ended invitation for him to return any time, even as Sybil glared at them from behind his back. Her roommates only smiled and winked, retreating to their rooms. Left alone with her auspicious houseguest, Sybil fidgeted as he studied her. The soft challenge in his eyes was unnerving.
“So,” she said, clearing her throat.
“You owe me a kiss,” Tom said without preamble.
“What?” Sybil asked, her eyes going wide.
“Last night, you promised me a kiss, and you never paid up,” he answered, stalking towards her.
“I-, uh-, you-, remember that?” She stepped back, then ran into the wall as he advanced.
“That’s why I stayed,” he nodded. “I wanted you to be sober, to remember it.” The warmth of his body occupying her personal space sent her heart racing away, and she looked at his wide, smiling mouth in a whole new threatening light as he hovered over her.
“Why?” she asked in a breathy whisper, her brows knit together in anxious confusion. Why was this gorgeous man even still in her house? Was he just playing with her? Some sort of twisted ‘make out with the nerd’ joke? A bet?
“It’s the first kiss of the New Year. It should be memorable, don’t you think?” he asked, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.
Sybil frowned harder to cover her shiver of anticipation. “Why me?” she clarified.
“You intrigue me,” he breathed into her mouth.
She looked up at him, startled, holding her breath. It’s not that she hadn’t been there before. Guys had put moves on her plenty of times – it had just never worked so well. Sybil could feel all of her careful defenses melting away. She stared into Tom’s eyes, wondering if, for once, it could be the real deal. His gaze was open and honest meeting hers. And though she could feel the invitation in his closeness, it was just that – inviting, not demanding. If she were honest, he intrigued her too – even if it was mostly wondering how he could possibly want her. Then she thought, what the heck? It was a New Year, right? New opportunities. New possibilities. And if she dared, new hopes. Some things never changed, but maybe, just maybe, some things did. She wrapped her arms around Tom’s neck, and as his lips sank in to hers, Sybil decided that
new was definitely a good thing, and so was
memorable.
***
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And I figured out how to customize my web browser icon. Lot's of new discoveries, and even though the site isn't EVERYTHING I'd hoped for - it will definitely suit for now. My next goal is to get some more writing under my belt and up - and some of my own cover art, etc. to give visuals for my stories. 
