Compilation of Short Stories

"Montblanc Legend"

AN: Thank you all for checking out my stories! I was supposed to play around with flashbacks a bit in this one, and I've never really done that before, so it was definitely out of my comfort zone. I feel like the ending is a little abrupt, but endings are definitely not my strong point. Anyways, feel free to let me know what you think! (PS- I just realized you can't tab in Wattpad, and I'm not okay with that) Carry on...

I hesitantly take a sip of my steaming hot chocolate, slowly lifting the soft coffee cup to my chapped lips. Mentally proclaiming that the temperature won't scorch my tongue, I turn my attention elsewhere. The quaint cafe I'm enjoying is one of my daily stops for a beverage pick-me-up, especially in the cold weather. Decorated in a french theme, the owners mashed together garden furniture with more sophisticated pieces, like the elegant counters, which makes for a bit of an eyesore, and, yet, I can't imagine visiting any other shop in Newport. The fresh scents swirl in the welcoming cafe, accompanied by strong undertones of the salty sea, making for a homey feel. Lost in nostalgia, I fail to notice the young man calling my name, and startle at the soft touch on my shoulder.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a smooth British voice apologizes. As he moves into my view, I blush slightly; it's the sweet exchange student from England.

"May I sit here?"

"Sure," I manage to reply, my brain kicking into overdrive. I wonder why he wants to talk to me. I know his name is Thomas, and that we have a college class or two together, but we don't cross paths much. As I wait for him to speak, I notice that he's discreetly wiping his palms on his pant legs.

Oh- he's nervous! the voice inside my head realizes. Wait, why would he be nervous? And then it hits me.

"Maya, I think you're a really beautiful person, and I know we don't talk much, but I'd really like to get to know you better."

My mind is screaming dissent, but I paste on a small smile, because I know Thomas doesn't mean any harm. Unfortunately, he takes this as motivation to continue, "I know that I haven't ever really approached you before, and, uh, this might seem kind of out-of-the-blue."

As soon as the last word leaves his lips, the sea air picks up, and I finally catch a whiff of his cologne- a complex woodsy, earthy scent. Why does it seem so familiar? As I puzzle over the familiarity, Thomas coughs, and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. He continues talking, but I only manage to catch a word or two.

"The truth is...."

"...since the beginning of the semester..."

"Maybe we could..."

I finally realize where that scent is from.

My head is spinning and I can't keep up the facade. I feel like running, stumbling away as fast as I can, but I can't seem to make my body follow my instructions. I'm panicking and I can't breathe, and this is escalating really quickly. I must not have done a great job at hiding my inner turmoil, because I distinctly hear Thomas asking me if I'm okay, but I can't make my mouth move to answer him. Wet paths carve their way into my cheeks in big, rolling droplets and I realize that I'm crying. I finally open my mouth to gasp for breath, but, instead, I'm choking on the spicy stench. Before I can do anything, I'm flung into a horrid memory.

I'm facing a boy my age, with tousled brown hair- so dark it is almost black. His smile is captivating, but this time I not going to fall for his illusions. My voice comes out distorted, and the anger is evident, "I know what you did!"

The boy's smile falters, but he recovers quickly, moving closer, reaching out to clutch me in an embrace. "Stop! I thought you were different, but you're not! You're just like everyone else!"

"Maya," the boy starts, a terrible mistake on his part.

"Don't you Maya me! I wanted you to be different! I thought that you were going to be different. I willingly gave you my heart, thinking you wouldn't be the one to drop it. I was wrong." My past self bites out harshly, "I'm done with you. Get out of my life!" I am doing my best not to cry, and the boy turns away without even fighting. He knew I was right.

I'm thrust back into the present, and I realize that, somehow, I'm on the ground. I'm shaking, and sobbing, curled up into a ball, with my cheek pressed against a warm object. Someone is gently stroking my hair and whispering consoling words, repeating that everything is okay, and how they won't let anything happen to me. My mind is still twisted, so it takes me a minute to recognize my pillow to be Thomas' lap, meaning that he's the one consoling me, as well. I gasp silently, and revel in his comforting embrace. Maybe all guys aren't that bad. Before I can follow that train of thought any further, I slowly drift off to sleep from exhaustion, my body relaxing, and the tears slowing.