A compilation of 2 quarantine short stories
Sugarless ✔
"Are you seriously staying in your pajamas all day?"
"Shut up, I'm procrastinating"
Love might knock on your door when you least expect.
🍭🍭🍭
Once Upon a One Night Stand ✔ (discontinued)
"Is...
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My father's fingers hit the top of the table rhythmically. He sits in front of me, gawking intensely, his lips pressed into a thin line. The usual polished suit he wears isn't as polished as it always is. I can't decide if it's because I don't deserve the respect or because he is too angry to notice.
Each thud makes a shiver come up my spine. I twist my rings hard enough to hurt. His stare freezes me over, making it impossible to look at Nina for support. I know she's leaning against the wall a few steps away from me, probably shooting imaginary daggers at my father, but I wish she was closer to my line of sight.
"Let me get this straight," he starts, and I hold my breath. "You're betraying the family?"
"No!" I exclaim. "No, I- I don't want to go back home. I want to stay here."
He nods slowly. "You want to stay here? I believe I told you that you cannot stay here."
"You did," I confirm. "But, things considered, it's better for me to be here."
He nods again. I can almost applaud his attempt at pretending he cares about what I want. He keeps registering everything I say, as if he agrees and understands, but I know he doesn't. I wonder how long he'll take to drop the facade.
"Better how?" he inquires.
"It's closer to the university," I reply immediately.
"You just finished the year."
I swallow, unsure of what to reply. He is right, but I didn't have time to prepare for his interrogation. When he called, demanding my whereabouts, I assumed he would scream, I'd cry a lot, and then he'd take me home.
"Yes, but staying here would allow me to be more in touch with the academic life."
"The academic life?" he asks. "How so?"
I fumble for the right words, feeling myself shrink under his gaze. "I have more opportunities here since I'm closer to the university."
His fingers stop drumming on the table, and a deafening silence settles between us. He leans back in his chair, the weight of his gaze intensifies. I try not to buckle under the scrutiny of his gaze.
"This is what is going to happen," he starts. "You're going back home with me, because it's better for you. This nonsense you speak of is only that. Your mother has prepared a social gathering, and she wants you to attend. You're not going to let her work be all in vain, are you?"
I clasp my hands together at the mention of my mother, tightening my grip. She doesn't talk to me much. At least not anymore, despite my attempts. I've yearn for her approval for so long I can't remember a time before that. He is striking a chord, and he knows it.
"To introduce me to my future husband?" I ask, my voice no louder than a whisper.
"I didn't realise you knew about that. But to answer your question, yes, he will be there."
