My Diggy Diggy One Shots

Amnesia

Wow... It's been a month. I am so sorry guys, I just have had trouble writing lately. And I've been focusing more on my other story. I'm going to try and work on this more. Only four prompts left!! :)

Prompt: Smornby: Waking Up With Amnesia - I don't know what this is. It isn't what I was expecting to write when I saw this prompt. I'm sure the person who requested this was thinking something very different. I hope this is alright?

Groaning, I roll over and dig my face into the pillow. My head throbs, everything from last night a blur. The bed I’m currently in is not my own, it’s way too soft.

Forcing myself to get up and try to figure out what the hell happened last night, knowing things get weird when I get drunk, I look around the room. It doesn’t look familiar, the room surprisingly clean.

A computer sits on a desk across the room, a closet along the same wall.

I throw the duvet off me, mildly surprised at my lack of clothes. Closer to the bed is a dresser with a pair of checkered pajama pants and a super dry shirt waiting for me.

They fit me for the most part, the shirt being a bit short. I run a hand through my hair, combing it with my fingers. Glancing around the room one last time to see if my phone is in here, I open the door.

Stepping into the hall, I look left and find a wall. To my right is another door and what looks like a staircase leading downstairs. I take a few steps toward the stairs, peeking in the other room to find a bathroom.

The carpet on the stairs is worn and creaks with my every step. I look around as I go downstairs, finding myself at the end of a short hallway that opens up into a living area.

There is another bathroom right to the left of the stairs, the smell of bacon coming from somewhere else in the flat. A door leading into another short hallway where the door to the kitchen is, a man with short dark hair stands at the stove with his back to me.

“Morning,” I start, looking around, wondering if someone else is in the flat or if it’s just us.

“Uh, good morning. Who are you?”

He turns to me, a smile on his face. “Some stranger you met at the bar last night.” I frown, watching as the man with the icy blue eyes looks me up and down.

“Oh. Well I should probably go then. I’m sure it was fun.” I turn to leave, wondering how far away from home I am.

“Wait-” His grip is stronger then I would have thought for a guy like him. Up close I notice he is only a few inches shorter than me, and much more attractive. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t know who you are, mate. Should I?” He searches my face, looking confused. He must find whatever it is he’s looking for, because he smiles and lets his hand fall to his side.

“No. I’ll- uh- I’ll be seeing you around then,” I shake my head, shrugging.

“Uh, sure.” My head is swimming, the hallway seeming to extend as I move to the front door. “Good day.” It’s a shame I don’t turn around to watch the man’s jaw hit the floor.

~

Turns out I wasn’t too far from home. By not to far I mean he lives across the street from me. I briefly wonder if he moved in not too long ago, a face like that one I doubt I could forget, but he seemed to be pretty settled in.

I don’t see the man for a few days, wanting to wash his clothes before returning them to him. Plus it gives me an excuse to see this man who has caught my eye.

He opens the door and presses a kiss to my lips, pulling me inside. I stand just inside his flat, watching him walk down the hall and turning into the kitchen. “Are you coming?”

I follow behind slowly, setting the bag of clothes just inside the living room. “I actually wasn’t planning on coming in, I just came to return your clothes.”

“Oh? And it’s just a coincidence that you chose the day we first met to pretend you didn’t know who I was, and on the day you asked me out you decided to return my clothes? I can’t wait to see what you do next week for our one year.”

“That’s a joke right?”

He leans against the counter, folding his arms, covering his white Superdry shirt. “Where have you been the past eleven months?”

“Living a pretty boring life. Go to work, go home, maybe play some DOTA, sleep, repeat. Go out to the bar with a few mates every now and then. I know for a fact you weren't a part of it. Seeing you at the stove a few days ago was the first time I saw you.”

He’s quiet, staring at me. I squirm under his gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally realizes this isn’t a joke.

“You. . . you really don’t remember me?”

I shrug. “I don’t even know your name.” His shoulders slump forward, curling in on himself. I don’t know why, but something pulls me toward this guy, my arms going around him. “I’m sorry.”

“Was the last year even real? How can’t you remember?” His body shakes, tears staining my shirt. I hold him for what seems like forever, but the clock says was only twenty minutes. When he finally calms down he smiles at me, gesturing at my shirt. “Sorry, it’s just-”

I press my lips to his tentatively. He leans into it, moving to deepen the kiss. I give in, letting him explore my mouth. Something about this feels right, like this is where I should be.

And I think my memory is starting to come back.