My Collection of Short Stories

Say You Won't Let Go

I wanted to start this collection of short stories off with one of my favorite pieces I've ever written. "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur is a song I have a very deep love for, so naturally I was inspired to write a little story on it. I hope you love reading it just as much as I loved writing it. It's a bit of an old one, one I wrote back on April 9th, 2019, but over the past few days I've been editing it so I could post it. Please enjoy, comment, and vote if you like it.

Also, listening to the song before or after reading is totally up to you. I, personally, would listen to it before because it sets the mood for the story, but if you prefer to after then go for it!

Gif: What I picture Rhyan & Faith's bedroom to look like.

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It's a frosty, winter day some time in December. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows of the cabin are wide open, displaying snow falling and covering the trees, blanketing them in an image that shines as bright as the moon. Inside lays Rhyan under the warmth – and away from the cold – that his and his wife's comforter brings.

Rhyan sluggishly blinks his eyes open and stares out the window as he comes out of his world of dreams. It's the swift search of his eyes to her side of the bed that he comes to the conclusion his wife, Faith, is not there with him. The clock on their nightstand indicates it's 8:03 in the morning, and the dull thrum of a song somewhere in the cabin fills his ears. He realizes then that she is most likely in the kitchen downstairs cooking breakfast – as is her morning routine. A small smile graces his face as he sits up and stretches his taunt muscles, finding it utterly amusing (and atrocious because who gets up so early?) how his wife always wakes before seven.

He reluctantly pushes the warm comforter away from his body, only remembering he's not wearing a shirt when the slightly cold air brushes against his skin. He shivers as he looks around for his abandoned shirt and finding it nowhere in sight he decides then that his wife has definitely earned the title of thief.

Sighing, Rhyan gets out of bed and makes his way down the hall, eager to see his wife. As he walks down the stairs of their two story cabin, he notices the song he had heard earlier has changed. He slows his steps and quietly turns the corner to the kitchen, seeing his wife standing at the stove making what he can only assume is breakfast by the assortment of food on the side counters. He also finds where his shirt has gone but he had already assumed as much since his wife is always stealing his clothes. He leans on the door frame to the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest as he soundlessly watches her, admiring her figure in his white shirt and her light gray sweatpants. Her naturally light honey blonde hair is hanging loose around her shoulders this morning – a hairstyle he has come to love a lot – and her feet are clad in white socks.

A couple of minutes go by as she continues to cook, switching between slicing up ingredients and mixing eggs in the frying pan, and his presence still hasn't been detected. The song on the radio changes again to one they both know all too well as it's their favorite song. He sees Faith glance at the radio – thankfully for him it's on the other side of the kitchen so he maintains his ability to be inconspicuous – and observes with his own smile as her face lights up. She proceeds with making breakfast but with the addition of her humming along to the song.

"I met you in the dark, you lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough. We danced the night away, we drank too much. I held your hair back when you were throwing up. And then you smiled over your shoulder, for a minute I was stone cold sober. I pulled you closer to my chest."

While his wife remains ignorant to his company, Rhyan decides then to finally make himself known when the chorus of the song approaches. He noiselessly walks up to her and startles her when he encircles his arms around her waist. Placing a kiss on her covered shoulder that visibly makes her relax in his hold, he begins to lead her in a gentle sway from side to side. He's never been that great of a singer but as the chorus plays out, he tries his best to sing along.