How to Write: One-Shot Collection

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“Stop that!” her bestfriend hit her out of her reverie, “Stop doing what?” she was wearing an innocent look, trying to get her way out of trouble.

                She stared at her with an are-you-kidding-me look, “Stop that look!” her warnings seem to have block her out of giving a blonde looking guy the proper pointers.

                But then again, she want to feign innocence, “What look are you talking about?” getting the clue that she won’t admit to what she is doing, her bestfriend sighs, “You’ve got to stop analyzing every damn fine male species you see! It’s not really a turn on! And it’s creepy!” she exclaimed. She was about to defend herself when the blonde guy from across the table saw her looking. She gave him a sweet smile. The guy laughs and shook his head. By the time they exit out of this Bakery Shop anyways, their paths would never cross again. That much she knew.

                “Okay, okay,” she turned back her attention to her annoyed bestfriend, “I’ll stop,” she then grab the fork and started on her desert, “Why the sudden treat now Tina?” they’ve known each other for six years. It was enough for her to know if something is wrong. Usually, she just ignores you whenever you’re on the “Man Hunt” but seems like today, she has something on her mind and needed your full attention.

                “Start talking. You won’t treat me food, call me this-” looks at her watch, “early for nothing,” taking a sip of water, “Spill,”

                Once again the girl infront of her sighs. It was not always a good sign for her, “We had a fight again,” you rolled your eyes. It was nothing new. They argue more than they get along, “And I’m sure you are at the wrong again,” don’t get her wrong. She loves her bestfriend so much that she’s willing to sit down with her when these things happen.

                “You always side him,” she crossed her arms and gave you a disapproving look, “Because he is the mature one,” you pointed out, “He called me last night. The fucktard was so depressed because of your little argument that oh so turned to the biggest argument, as always,” with her you were always honest. Nothing is a secret. Nothing is worth to be kept.

                “You don’t understand,” she shook her head, “This time he is wrong,” this time you were the one who sigh. In your mind, you thought, this is going to be a long talk and a lot of persuasion, “Look. Your boyfriend might be a Class A Model but he sure is suffering from insecurities. The last guy you dated, your Parents loved him. And again, once fucking again, I am repeating this. The arguments you have are always the same. No way in hell he is wrong. What he wants to feel is that the amount of love you have given from the last guy, you double it to him. He fought for you; despite your age differences and your Parents constant words telling you that he is a No-No guy. He waited and fought for it. He just want to feel the same, he just wants to know that. For him, there’s no way both of your relationship would work if you’re not even doing a fucking thing other than give him a hard time,” by the time you finished, your bestfriend is in tears.

                “I am fighting for him! I love him. I tell him that everyday,” she was wiping her beaming tears, “Well he sure hell doesn’t feel that,” you just laid back on the backrest of the chair and looked at the window, this is why I won’t do relationships. Not atleast I found the perfect one.