SCRAWLING - a collection of flash fiction

Aisle 2 - Death

"What are you doing? Put that down." I directed crazed eyes at Jason, wiggling my brows in what I could only hope was an expression that conveyed the urgency in which he needed to obey. "Gently," I added hurriedly, as the glass slipped from his fingers and the cork stopper became all that prevented him from losing his grip on the thing entirely. My heart momentarily stuttered in my chest.

He gave me a sheepish grin, lowering the vial into a small wooden rack on the shelf. His poor handling had shaken the potion and the contents now shimmered in the light, making the glittering black liquid stand out from its dull neighbours. "Sorry. It's just... fascinating," he said, his eyes wide as he watched the swirls subside.

"And deadly you idiot." I jerked my thumb in the direction of the ancient wooden sign that hung above our heads. Aisle 2 – Death was carved in neat, dust-filled cursive. "Don't touch anything else in this aisle." I glanced back from the sign to Jason, only to find his blue eyes scouring the peeling label of a bulbous carboy he cradled against his chest. I nearly shrieked. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for an expiry date."

I ran a hand down my face, blowing out a slow breath. "It's a potion for imminent death," I hissed through gritted teeth, "it doesn't have an expiry."

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from the vessel to me and back again. "You're kidding." His eyes were ablaze with amused curiosity. He chuckled to himself. "That's amazing."

I didn't exactly know what he was referring to—the lack of expiration, or the fact that he was holding about two litres of liquid death. I was guessing it was the former by the way he still carelessly hugged the bottle to his chest.

"Please," I sighed, "put it down. Gent—"

"Gently, I know." He cut me off, swinging the bottle back onto the shelf with an air of disappointment. I let out a strangled breath as the bottle clanged against another and vapour swirled inside the stoppered glass.

"Just—" I clenched my fists. "Stop touching things. Please."

He made an unintelligible sound that I hoped was understanding, but expected was amused distraction. His eyes were still pinned to the shelves, taking in the bottles and vials of all sizes.

I slowed near the middle of the aisle, daring to take my eyes off him for the barest second while I scanned the shelf for what I needed.

"Heartbreak?" he asked, the hint of a laugh around his words as he caught sight of the vial in my hand. "You don't have time to hit it and quit it yourself?"

I tried to give him an indignant expression, but felt the colour rising in my cheeks.

He must have noticed, because he continued, getting more animated with each metaphor. "Attract them and subtract them. Surf them, then turf them—"

"Shut up," I muttered, rubbing my temple. "Why in the stars did I bring you with me?"

He held up his wrist, the twisted copper and silver band encircling it barely glinting in the store's low light. I glanced down to the matching—and equally cursed—band on my own wrist. A new wave of embarrassment flooded my face with heat as I realised I'd forgotten.

It had been so easy to think Jason had stuck with me because he wanted to. When in reality, the opposite was probably true. I glared into the blood red potion in my hands, not sure which rejection was more mortifying.

Before I could get too swept up in my own humiliation, Jason was chuckling to himself again, his bright eyes sparkling. "I thought you'd brought us here to break the bind—though I'm glad that's not why we're in this aisle in particular."

I squirmed, unable to keep from looking at him and his stupidly infectious grin. "I haven't seen everything in this aisle yet—there's still time."