That Easy and Other Short Stories ✔

Lost

Playlist

Never Let Me Let You Go
Shawn Hook

Coming Down
Halsey

📍

"You should probably go."

His suggestion is terse, but I open my eyes and peer through my bangs to find him watching me with a curious expression.

"Yeah."

Both of us know we don't have long, but his arms remain locked securely around my waist, and I don't make an effort to leave until he loosens them.

Dragging my legs out of his bed, I stifle a shiver when my bare feet make contact with the hardwood floor. As I stand, I pull the forgotten cotton sheet with me. Wrapping the stiff material around my torso, I clutch the ridge where the two seams meet tightly, the way only actresses in movies do. Because the producers know there are eyes staring that have no business staring.

Pulling my costume along with me, I walk over to the foot of the bed and collect my jeans and panties from the floor. Once I manage to shimmy into them in what ends up being a rather ungraceful endeavour, I grab my bra from his bedside table. I slip my arms through the straps before dropping the sheet just enough to get the garment on, but after blindly fumbling with the clasp for what feels like too long, I give up and just turn to face the wall, dropping the sheet entirely.

The bed creeks as he gets up, but I don't watch as he scavenges the room for his clothing.

It hurts too much realizing this doesn't feel the same as it used to. I've always prided myself on having a vivid imagination, but it's failing me when I need it most. Because outside of the bedroom we are nothing.

So I don't turn around to bid him a warm farewell like I used to. Instead, I do my goodbye in words before slipping out his bedroom door. When I get downstairs, I'll let myself out and find my way home, a feat that's easier in theory than practice.

When you've built so much of your world together, how do you navigate it alone?