duet | eleven
❉❉❉
Days and weeks went by in a blur, and in a blink of an eye, Holden was now five months into his job.
In other words, it had been four months since he first met Kayla.
As he laid in his bed with his back against the headboard, he couldn't help but feel happy that Kayla had been with him throughout these few months.
As a friend.
And this was a fact that he absolutely wanted to change.
After five months of hard work, Holden was finally getting his well-deserved rest, as Cerulean Pub would undergo renovation for two weeks.
Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he proceeded to draft a text message to Kayla.
Upon typing a few words, he deleted the draft.
He figured that he would surprise her at the doorstep, and if it happened to be a no-avail, then he would just blame on his luck.
An hour later, he was well washed up and standing in front of the door that he had only walked through once. Ever since they had exchanged phone numbers, all they did was texting since it was pretty hard arranging a time to meet outside of their job.
He noticed an unfamiliar pair of shoes scattered on the Welcome mat, as if it was taken off hastily.
"Jake," a voice breathed out - a voice that was all too familiar to Holden.
"God, I missed you so fucking much." Another voice came, this time rough and deep.
It felt like someone had squeezed Holden's heart with ten thousand pounds of strength, but he stood rooted to his ground.
"Please, just go."
"No, I'm not going to let you go again. I need you."
"Jake, you need to leave."
"Why? Why are you chasing me away? Can't you see how much I love you?!"
Silence.
"I love you, Kayla!"
"Stop. Just... stop."
A loud groan came next, followed by the sound of something shattering onto the ground, and a loud gasp.
Kayla.
"Kayla!" Holden hammered his fist forcefully onto the door.
"Kayla! Are you alright?"
The sight of the wooden door was replaced by Kayla's figure, along with a guy behind who towered over her.
❉❉❉
thank you so much for reading!
signing off,
brenda ♡
YOU ARE READING
Duet | ☑
Short StoryIt is known that you can't have high hopes in someone you meet in a pub. But a microphone in hand could make a whole lot of difference.