Max wakes to the morning sun piercing his eyes.
He turns away.
Layla sits on the edge of the bed.
She moves all her hair to one side.
Her back exposed.
Maxwell smiles.
He plays connect the dots with the freckles on her back.
An impossible game.
Too many dots.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
"Are you leaving?"
"Yes."
"Will you come back?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Always."
"Then I will."
- - - - - ❄ ❄ ❄ - - - - -
YOU ARE READING
Unrequited
Short Story"If there was such a thing as love, he thought. She was love." __________ A short, fucked up, unrequited love story between Maxwell and Layla.