Short Stories For Me

Hi, I make short stories that take about 10-20 minuets to read for fun. I go by he/him and I'm in the LGBT+ community.(Pan-romantic, Gay, Trans Boy) I hope you like my stories and I really want to hear your feedback!

[princelockedinatower]

Peppermint

The dark streets aren't a place for anyone or anything at night, that is... except for the ones who have no place within the light to begin with. 

I and the others I am meeting are the exception. 

I waltz down the carriage lanes of this old sleepy town in my favorite dark jeans and a black knitted sweater, a forest green cloak draped over me with the hood down, catching wisps of dark figures in the corners of my eyes. These creatures are not quite of this world, nor is the figure, visible only by the translucent outlines of white waltzing along with me tonight. The common folk need not fear these creatures, unless you know they exist they are impartial. Then even if you do, leaving out some seeds and honey as an offering will keep you from harm, give them blueberry tea if you want some good luck. 

Tonight I climb the hill just beyond the old yew tree the fae adore and that everyone refuses to cut down least they fear a despicable end. No one besides me and a few others dare to climb it at night, they say strange things happen there, dark figures prowling about almost like regular animals, yet their limbs too long and narly. When climbing you’ll get an ice chill down your spine, a sinking feeling in your gut and the one clear thought you can manage out is something along the lines of: I should not be here. 

The way I and the other I am meeting ward this off is by leaving generous offerings before we ascend. I find McDonald's fries generally please them, so arriving at the foot I leave four extra large fries and a pack of chicken nuggets, right beside my coven’s other offerings. I can see no figures awaiting me from where I stand, a bad sign usually but I start up the hill against my better judgment. 

Reaching the top, my calves are burning, the trek never gets easier. I lean down to massage my right calf, my dyed red hair falling around me and pale skin a sharp contrast in the full moon’s light. As my hood falls over my eyes I spot two figures lying on the ground, one covered with a light blue cloak, dark tightly braided hair and face peeking out, the other a maroon cloak and a hot pink dress. 

I address the girl with the maroon cloak first “You hiked this thing in heels? What are you? Cat woman girl?” I ask rummaging through my bag for my supplies. 

Bonita laughs “You wish hun, got your supplies?” she says sitting up elbowing Makena. 

I nod, both of them standing and whipping out their supplies from their own bags. 

We start to set up the temporary alter as Makena speaks, getting our attention “Bonita, Roxy-” she hesitates on her next words, half way done her particular task to set up “This might be the last time we pray and do a spell together, you know, with all of us off to college in a few weeks,” she says, her voice wavering a bit while fiddling with her long curly hair. 

Bonita’s eyebrows shoot up and she makes a face before chuckling “If you’re implying that we’re gonna grow apart sweetie while we’re in college you better evaluate dear Roxy’s OCD level schedule of communication and visits,” 

Makena blushes and shrinks but laughs with us at my expense. 

We make short work of setting up the rest of the altar and preparing to pray. 

Tonight I’m going to pray to Sarasvati for help forming and performing my Valedictorian speech, something I desperately need. I’ve been rewriting it for a week now and still haven’t made any headway. I also need to pray to my main hoe Soma to make Grad amazing and Dhat to bless the spell we’re about to do. I’m not sure what Bonita and Makena pray about, or who to, guess I never really asked. Regardless we each get into our preferred positions and pray to whichever gods and goddesses we choose about whichever we want. 

The graduation ceremony took place in pitch black, the sun already set, small shifts of movement coming from the rows of seats and the rafters, family and supporters brought together alive and passed, human and not. The only light coming from the spotlights on the stage as Principle Chiba gave an inspirational and touching speech that moved everyone here. Applause began and continued as I replaced Mr. Chiba at the podium, soon it died down and I spoke a silent prayer I would do well before I began.

“Fellow classmates, graduates of 2018, I will not bore you with a lengthy speech going on about things that don’t matter, we all have better things to do. Instead I will give you some words of advice given to me by someone I miss dearly, who has gone on to University in a very far away place yet I remain close to. That advice is to simply, remember to call. Call to say how beautiful the leaves are on the trees outside your dorm window. Call to ask how they’re doing. Call to just say I miss you. Call to make them open their bedroom window because they’re home for the Holidays and you’re outside freezing, 20 ft up in the air on a tree and regretting every life choice you’ve made up to that point. So call, it keeps you close to those you care about. Thank you.” 

I don’t think we called enough. 

Sitting here, awkwardly in this cafe we used to come to in high school when conversation just flowed, I wonder what went wrong. I know we didn’t follow the schedule, school and life got in the way, but… that shouldn’t stop us from reconnecting.

“So, any special someone in your guys lives?” I ask, a small forced and nervous smile on display as I grasp my mug. 

My sister Sofia shoots me a sarcastic thumbs up. I’m tempted to flip her off. 

Bonita nods “Their name’s Avery, they’re pretty nice,” she says looking down into her mug.

“I’m not seeing anyone right now actually,” Makena says, taking a bite of her pastry. 

I nod my head, this is not going well “That’s nice,” I take a sip from my mug, racking my brain to come up with something to start a decent conversation. 

Makena pretends to get a text and looks at her phone “Sorry guys, it’s been fun but my mom wants me home to make sugar cookies, see you later!” she says practically sprinting from the table.

I know she was pretending because she always has her ringer on, in high school it used to get her into so much trouble. 

I remember when it went off in the middle of a lock down drill, school took it away for three days, and like any teenagers would we concocted elaborate schemes to get her phone back. None of them worked of course, including the one where Bonita tried to tell the receptionist she was Makena was mom, but we had fun nonetheless. 

“I should actually go too, I got some stuff that I need to attend to,” Bonita says laughing half halfheartedly.

I nod and watch her awkwardly leave. Letting out a defeated sigh I let my head fall into my arms. Why was talking to them after a year so hard?

“You ok?” my sister asks, sitting down across from me. 

The phase sent me over the edge, tears started spilling into my cardigan then running down my cheeks as I lifted my head. Unable to speak, I shake my head. 

She grabs a tissue from her bag and hands it to me “You know you could always try doing something you guys used to do back in high school together,” she suggests sipping her drink.

I sniffled “I don’t know, I noticed Bonita wearing a cross and Makena started wearing a hijab,” I used the tissue to wipe away the tears “They’ve changed a lot…”

My sister nods “Sorry I’m not more help…” 

“It’s ok, they’re allowed to change it’s just I didn’t expect them to so much,” I say, my phone starting to vibrate. 

It’s Vincent, one of my new friends from Uni, I answer it “Hey tic tac, whatcha need?”

He laughs “Nothing, just want to know how the old reunion is going,”

“Not well, but I know that’s not why you’re calling, what did you do this time?”

“Can’t a friend bug another friend anymore? And besides it’s not me, it’s your roommate, apparently she accidentally turned your sheets orange when washing them,” 

I chuckle, and rub my face “How bad is it?”

“Bad, very bad, looks like leftover prison suit material was used, then bleached in some places,” 

I laugh genuinely “I’ll be sure to pick up new ones when I get back then,” 

“Good, those sheets have seen better days. What’s up with your friends? Thought you were really excited to see them,”

“Well, I was, but… they’ve changed a lot. They’re not the people I used to know back in high school and I don’t know how to reconnect with them,” 

Vincent sighs “You’re not gonna like what I have to say about this but you need to hear it,-” he pauses and I scrunch up my face. What could he possibly have to say that I wouldn’t like? “-Sometimes, through no fault of anyone involved, relationships just… don’t last,”

I blank for a second, shocked he’d even say something like that. “What the hell? What am I-” 

“You didn’t let me finish!” he interrupts his voice weakly raising an octave. I huff but let him continue“Sometimes they don’t last because people just change too much, and that’s no one fault, people need to change so they can grow. And sometimes that means you change so much people lose connection because there’s nothing to connect with. That doesn’t make sense, umm, ok, take two people at the start of a relationship. They both love to… drink coffee so every day they go out to drink coffee,”

I chuckle a little raising an eyebrow “Coffee? That’s the best you can come up with?”

He shushes me playfully “Anyways, so a little later in this friendship one decides to give up coffee due to Insert Reason Here and they stop hanging out as often. Since their entire relationship is based on coffee and now that’s been taken away, they don’t have anything in common. They drift apart and remember each other as a good friend they had,”

I nod and ponder what he said “So… people can just drift apart? In that situation aren’t you supposed to try to make new common interests?” 

“Yah, but sometimes that just doesn’t happen for whatever reason and that’s where my wisdom comes in!” I can feel his overblown and ridiculously camera smile of annoyance from the other side of the country.

“I’m throwing a pillow at you when I get back,” I say going to hang up, his laughter ringing out. 

My sister’s nowhere to be seen, probably went to the washroom. I remain sitting, my drink all gone and the sun dipping down to paint everything a nice shade of orange. 

I wonder if Vincent had a point. I had tried to reconnect with my friends, but they just… were too changed from when I knew them… I could keep trying, but how many times would I sit through awkward conversations that lead nowhere before we reconnected or they started making up excuses not to come? 

I sigh out loud and play with my empty cup. Why do people and relationships have to be so difficult? 

I realize Vincent’s right… Why for the love of the gods does Vincent have to be right this one time? 

Sighing again I begrudgingly move up my flight up to this Thursday, two days from now. My parents moved after I graduated high school and my sister was seeing her friends so it wasn’t like it was an inconvenience to anyone. 

My sister reappears and sits down “Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt your phone call, had to go to the washroom,” 

“That’s ok, I was just about to leave, -” I stand up and hesitate to continue “-I also moved up my flight to this Thursday…”

“You sure? Shouldn’t you try to reconnect a little harder?” she asks, walking with me to the door.

I sigh “Yes, sometimes people just grow apart and despite their best efforts they just don’t recover,” I mentally kick myself for quoting Vincent, the jerk would never let me live it down. I grab a peppermint from the little bowl as we exit and pop it in my mouth.

“Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.” she comments getting in her rental car “Want me to drive you to the airport?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I say with a sad smile. 

Watching her drive off and getting into my car, I feel my heart droop, finally realizing that was the last time I’d probably see my old friends again but, I also feel like a sense of dread has been scrubbed off of me. 

[princelockedinatower]

Part 1 of Movie Night

I am so fucking sorry this is so late, I know I said I’d have a completed one out by mid October but school and friend shit came up and yah. I’m so sorry once again, I’ll try to be more regular but I really can’t promise anything!! >-<

The studio looked new. Modern architecture done in de stijl, spotless white with primary colour highlights, still vibrant, a testament to the high maintenance standards of the owners. It was big too, not huge but big, enough to house an entire modeling company.

The lobby was almost identical to the outside, gold instead of primary though with sleek, rather uncomfortable chairs to wait in. 

“Ms. Penny Ling, here to visit the other Ms. Ling?” the secretary, Ash asks dismissively, barely glancing up from their computer on the glass reception desk.

My stomach flutters, and my mind begs me to turn around, the result of annoying social anxiety “Yes, which room is she in?” I ask, ignoring it, shifting my purse around.

They sigh gesturing to the elevator “Studio 54 on the second floor,”

I mumble out a thanks over my shoulder as I press the button, the elevator opening instantly. 

Inside I finally breathe, something I didn’t notice I had stopped doing. 

Mirror's covered every every surface of the elevator, even the floor and ceiling. Probably more modern art ideas by the designer. Never was big on modernism and minimalism. At least it provided me a change to smooth out my over-sized sweater and fix a stray shiny black curl before I stepped out. 

I passed multiple conference rooms, private offices and rooms I don’t know their purpose for before finding studio 54 and entering with a knock.

Camera flashes and shouting about poses overwhelm me for a second before I slip in off to the side. The man, or rather boy, he couldn’t be older than twenty, shouting is short, deathly pale and wearing a decked out Supreme*tm outfit the fits badly, even if it was meant to be baggy. I recognize him as he’s angling a camera at Hayley, my wife. The sight of such a ridiculous outfit on him makes me almost giggle, what really does it is when I look over to Hayley. 

Brown hair pulled up into some sort of hairstyle modeled after, I don’t even know what, and make up done up with colour’s a child would pick were cringe worthy, but they weren’t as bad as her dress. 

The teen seemed to take notice of my stifled giggles and whipped around to me “And just are you laughin ‘bout?” he asks, accent think as can be. Everyone turns to me surprised at the outburst or that I’m here, I don’t know which. 

I recognize some faces, a fashion designer, Ral Shell known for abstract and geometric work, a few lighting techs and a refreshment guy. 

I feel my stomach flutter again “Well, it’s just that, the dress, it...” I trail off not wanting to offend Ral’s work just because I had a different perspective then him.

Ral steps through the crowd and stops a few feet from me, his arm across him hugging his chest while the other was resting on it, his hand near his face “Penny, I value your opinion, please do share,” he prompts, his face kind.

I sigh and cross my arms trying to sound tactful “It looks like a glitter covered dick...’

Ral looks over to Hayley alarmed, jaw dropping open. “Dear lord how did I not notice that,” he says rubbing his eyes and face “Thank you for pointing that out Penny,” he says turning back around to face me.

I shrug “Thankful enough to let Hayley go before her shoot’s over?” I ask cheekily with a smirk. Ral laughs and surprisingly agrees, saying something along the lines of me saving him from being a laughing stock in the public’s eye. 

Hayley beckons me to follow her out of the studio, fiddling with pulling bobby pins out as she walks out the door with me in tow. We’re barely out the door and she has a handful of them already. 

Stunned and in utter amazement I silently watch her take out another handful of bobby pins while we walk down the hall I came in through. The photographer giving me a death glare as we walk. 

Once we turn into a room for hair and makeup he closes the door harshly, turning to me, Hayley sitting down in front of a mirror “Who are you to barge into my studio and interrupt my shoot and jeopardize my entire career,” he says quietly, red in the face, fists curled. 

Hayley huffs one of those laughing huffs you do when someone suggests something so annoyingly preposterous it’s actually humorous “Trust me Supreme you were doing that all on your own,” she says, a stylist taking out more bobby pins letting her chocolate hair fall down “Ral likes people who aren’t afraid to cut him down when they see an opportunity, not ones who worship the ground he walks on, and besides, what in the world did Penny do? She didn’t laugh at your work, just Ral’s,” she says waving off an artist holding some make up remover. 

Supreme’s still red in the face but I suspect it’s for another reason now. Unable to come up with an opposing argument he turns to leave until I grab his arm “Ral told me about you a few months ago,” I begin, turning him so he’s facing me, though he’s hunched in on himself, trying to hide tears “He told me to check out this Instagram account that had maybe a hundred followers, I did, assuming it was another one of Ral’s “He has talent!” finds that in actuality had no talent at all. I was very wrong, now don’t get me wrong, you are still inexperienced and your work’s not the best executed at times, but... it has an originality to it that, that is hard to find these days,

“And I said to myself “I need to know more about this kid,” so I followed your personal account and sifted through your posts, do you know what I found? I found this boy who loves old films, his friends, photography and has a French style aesthetic that put’s Hayley’s to shame,” Hayley cuts me a look I see out the corner of my eye and I resist laughing at it, the kid’s looking at me full on now and full on crying “What I trying to say is, the person you’ve molded yourself into these past few months is not going to impress Ral, or anyone else for that matter,” I say smiling a bit, he’s sniffling but the tears have stopped, I think I got through to him.

“Thank goodness, I miss my trench coat,” he says whipping at he eyes with his sleeve and I chuckle a bit. He gives me a shaky smile before leaving. 

Hayley wraps her arms around my waist and lays her head on my shoulder form behind “He so does not have a better aesthetic than me,” she mumbles into my neck.

“Whatever you say honey,” I chuckle kissing the top of her head “Let’s go home, movie night?” I offer walking towards the exit with her still clinging to me. 

She hums “Popcorn and chocolate?” 

“You bet my rainbow assed lesbo,” I say giggling walking into the lobby.

[princelockedinatower]

The music in slow jazz is the 1920′s Bix Beiderbecke's Davenport Blues,  performed by Alex Welsh on cornet and Fred Hunt on piano. You know, in case you were wondering... 

[princelockedinatower]

Book Shop; Part 1

**Story with an actual plot this time lol (Fluff will follow in part two or three... idk)

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grunting, I lift the first box out of about five or six filled with new books for my shop from the delivery truck, the sun just beginning to rise in the chilly autumn morning. A thin layer of already melting snow on the ground. The driver, Payton lending a hand and grabbing one too. We carry them through the open door at the back at my shop then to the back room table letting them land with thuds. 

“How’s your wife?” I ask heading back out for another box, Payton behind me “Clara, right?”

He grunts grabbing another box “She’s great, just got a promotion at her firm, junior partner now,” Payton says heading inside as I struggle with a peculiarly heavy one. 

“That’s great!” I huff out close to dropping the box “Willing to bet she’ll have her name on the wall in three years,” I say praying the box slipping from my hands stays in them for a little longer as I take a step into the backroom. 

Payton sees me struggling and takes the box from me “Laynie you-” he pauses with a guilty look “Sorry, Lance you should’ve let me take this one,” he says plopping it down on the table and we head out again. 

“I’ll take the last box in,” he says the guilty look still on his features “Least I can do for calling you the wrong name,” he smiles taking the box in.

I smile at him as he walks in. Payton was a good man, wasted no time in using the right pronouns once I asked him to and quickly apologized if he accidentally forgot. The thing that made him better than other men is he’s super supportive of his wife’s career as a lawyer and has never once got jealous about how much money she makes. Once saw him give a thirty minute impromptu lecture to a guy who joked she should get back in the kitchen too, twas a good day. 

“Thanks,” I say opening up a box and lifting the red covers out to contrast on the table with worn dull green paint “Did you hear Jessica’s moving out next door? Says she needed more room for her restaurant and while she was considering selling this guy comes up to her one day and offers her way more money than he should to have her move out and him have the space,” 

Payton raises his brows “No I didn’t, that’s crazy he came up to her, do you know who she’s selling to?” he asks running back out to his truck to close the back and grab his tablet for me to sign. 

I shake my head starting on the next box, this one with a picture of a girl on the cover “Never saw the guy and Jessica won’t tell me his name,”

“Damn,” Payton says sitting on the battered chair near the table, tapping away on his tablet “Hope he doesn’t force you out too,”

I shiver at the thought and mutter out a “Me too,” I would hate to part with my shop, had her since day one when I was fresh out of business school and could barely get a loan to open her up. Memories of building the oak shelves lining the perimeter from raw wood and spotting the two mismatching antiquish tables at different shops that occupy the floor without making it feel crowded, flood back. And, uh, also moving all the books would be hell too. 

Payton hands me the tablet “Just need ya to sign here,” I nod and sign quickly, going back to unpacking the boxes. 

He shows himself out wishing me a good day as he kicks the doorstop out and lets the door close. The sudden darkness makes me curse and stumble around the small room looking for the lightswitch, wishing I hadn’t left my phone at the register. 

I grit my teeth groping the wall when the door leading to the front of the shop opens and floods the room with light. My employee, actually my only employee, Kat flipping on the light “Hey Lance, are the new books in yet?” she asks hanging up her coat as I let my eyes adjust. 

“Yep, over on the table,” I say gesturing over to it “Nice sweater by the way,” 

She looks down at it “Thanks, got it half off,” Kat says coming to the table and starting on a box. I nod returning to my box, Kat making small talk as we get them unboxed and put on the selves. We’re half way through before someone knocks on the door. 

I frown furrowing my brow “The sign says we’re closed,” I say checking my watch, we’re not due to open for another hour or so by it.

Kat shrugs continuing to put books on the shelf “Probably a Karen*TM thinking the world revolves around them,”

I chuckle at her guess and head to the front stopping to fix my dyed messy white hair and ruffled sweater in the mirror by the door. Peaking through one of the doors I see a man standing outside in a light winter coat, sharp cheekbones, bronze skin, and black hair styled nicely making him handsome. Fixing my sweater again I open the door and slightly cool air rushes in.

“Sorry but we open at nine,” I say my words making little clouds and wrapping an arm around my waist to protect from the cold.

“Yah, I uh, s-s-s-saw the sign, but I’m, uh,” he clatters out rubbing his arms “C-can I exp-p-plain inside if, if that’s alright?” he asks shifting from one foot to another, accidentally making the scarf he has fall from his shoulder. 

I huff but agree, opening the door further to let him pass. He thanks me as I close the door and looks around at my shop. 

“So?” I ask leaning against the register seeing the seconds I could be getting ready for opening tick by. I cross my arms, a little annoyed at his arrogance. 

He whips back around to me from inspecting a table “Right, uh, I’m Travis,” he says holding out his hand. When I don’t move, keeping a annoyed expression he takes it back “I bought the restaurant on the left of your store and I plan on turning it into a cafe and I just wanted to give you a face to the guy who’s gonna be making an ungodly amount of noise for the next few weeks,”

He gives me a weak smile and swallows a little nervous “I uh, was also wondering if you wanted to come up with a promotional deal or something like, buy a book at “Lance’s Books and Trinkets” then get a half off coffee at Cafe something,” 

I tilt my head and think about doing that. As much as I want to be petty and shove his offer back in his face it’s a really good idea “Alright, when do you want to work out the details? Cause I got to open in...” I trail off leaning back to get a glance of the register’s clock, slightly panicking as I read it “Eleven minutes.” 

“Does Monday at five work? We can meet where ever you want,” he says heading towards the door fiddling with his scarf. 

“I’ll let you know,” I say reaching around the register to grab a pen and sticky note and try to make my handwriting legible “My phone number,” I cross over to him and shove it into his hands. 

He nods at it then opens the door the air finally warm enough to have the doors open today “I’ll text you-” he squints at the note “Luliee?” 

“Lance,” I correct him grabbing a sign, a little bite in my voice “It says Lance,” I open the door beside him and set up the sign. 

He sighs wincing and nodding “Sorry,” he says heading back to his restaurant. 

I roll my eyes spying Kat by the door “Did you have to bite his head off?” she asks eyeing him then me with her arms crossed.

“He got my name wrong,” I say opening the other door and leaning down to grab the cute puppy doorstop to keep it open “Can you blame me?”

She raises her eyebrow at me then grabs the other door stopper her blonde hair falling to the side so I don’t have to be under her judgy teenage stare. 

It doesn’t last for long as when I get up from getting the door in place her stare is waiting for me.

“I think you were mean because you like him,” she says turning and going back in to touch up one of the tables.

I huff out a laugh and head inside “Really starting to regret telling you I’m gay,” I say fiddling with the register getting it set up.

She laughs at that “You’ve been saying that for the last six months,” she states turning back to me “I still think you like him,” 

I roll my eyes, even though I know she’s right, greeting a customer coming through the doors. 

[princelockedinatower]

Slow Jazz

**Fluff without plot**

like porn without plot but cute and PG and gay

Also I did 0 editing or revising cause yolo, hope you guys enjoy :)

Soft silk sheets. A mini spurge courtesy of my last trip to target. Everytime I go I swear to myself I’ll only get the thing I went there for, and everytime I come out with a leather bound journal, pack of erasers, pajamas or something christmas related among a cart full of little knick nacks and cool jizmabobs. 

I stretch out, flopping over onto my back as I do and listen to the songbirds outside the window, their nice singing threatening to lure me back to sleep. For a few moments I do, feeling at peace despite the growing need to get to up for the day.

“Morning Adrian,” my husbands gruff though gentle voice awakes me. Shifting to half sit up I see him standing at the door, red hair messy, wearing only sweatpants, a gold ring around his finger with two cups of coffee in his hands “Coffee?” he asks lifting up a cup.

I give a lazy smile and nod, sitting up against the headboard as he crosses the room and carefully gets on the bed. After handing me my cup he cuddles up to me with his head on my shoulder even though he’s the taller one. 

I sigh smiling, letting my eyes wonder over the room, there’s a picture of us on our wedding day, both in suits, in a cheap dollar store frame on the dresser, clothes spilling out of it as normal. Mismatched curtains on mismatching curtain rods pulled back to let the early morning sun in to rest on the rugs covering our small bedroom. Nothing’s too expensive, not even the china passed down to us that was bought at a gas station way back when but everything’s nice, warm and cozy.

“Adam?” I say, pausing to take a sip of my coffee “Do you like how we live?” 

Adam looks up at me and grins, a tooth missing “I wouldn’t change a thing,”

I smile, moving to press a kiss to his lips, the bitter taste of coffee on him. 

I pull away, getting off our bed and crossing over to our dresser “We should probably open the clinic soon,” I say digging through our shirts drawer looking for a specific one “What time is it actually?” I ask.

Adam suffles on the bed for his phone as I find the lime green scrub shirt I was looking for that brings out my darker green eyes “Eight twenty-six, we’ve got thirty-two minets,” he answers bolting up from our bed to join me in search of clothes. 

Adam’s still searching for pants when I start fussing over my long brown wavy hair in the bathroom mirror. I get it tamed as he asks “Where are my black and red scrubs?” 

I walk over to a basket of clean laundry and after digging for a millisecond I pull out the matching shirt and pants “You mean these?” I chuckle and grab my white doctors coat. He laughs, grabbing them from me and shoves them on. 

Together we dash down the flight of stairs to the backroom of our clinic we own and live above. Bustling out into the waiting area I see a few patients waiting and our receptionist, Clark talking on the phone. 

Upon seeing us he puts whoever was on the line on hold and hands me a clipboard “Dr. Devorack Room 1 is waiting for you,” he pauses reaching for another clipboard and giving it to Adam “Nurse Adam Room 3 is the Kylands, they’re here for their immunizations.” 

Clark goes back to the phone as Adam and I go off to do our duties. Before I slip into the first room I catch Adam’s eye and blow him a kiss, he smirks and rolls his eyes as I slip into the room. 

I smile gently at the small kid and mom who both look worse for wear. The kid looks about to be about six and the mom about mid thirties, both extremely tired and the kid has a few tears running down his cheeks, more coming whenever he swallows. 

“Hi, I’m Dr. Devorack,” I say sitting in the swivel chair at the desk “What seems to be the problem?” 

The mom rubs her eyes and tells me her son’s throat really hurts to the point he hasn’t eaten yet today. I nod and ask the kid to hop up the table while I grab a tongue stick. 

Gently I feel his throat which is swollen and hot then ask him to say “aww” for me. Little white dots line his throat and I decide to take his temperature. It reads 38.1*C and I start typing in my computer “Your son has a case of Strep Throat, so I’m going to give you a precription to give to him for ten days,” I say printing off the required sheet “Make sure he takes all ten days or the infection might come back.” 

She nods thanking me, visibly relieved as I stand and get the door for them. A warm feeling spreads from my chest as I smile, something about helping people makes me feel this way. Grabbing the clipboard I head back to the waiting room with the mom and kid. 

Clark already has another clipboard for me when I reach his desk and I let myself fall into the familiar routine of helping patients all day long, only stopping for a quick lunch with Adam, Clark and our other nurse Natasha. 

Closing time rolls around at five, Clark and Natasha going home before I finish with my last patient of the day, Adam doing some paperwork while he waits for me.

I wasn’t going to take them honestly, they came in on the dot and Clark was already out the door with Natasha on his heels. I can’t blame them, it was friday night and they were both off tomorrow. 

What changed my mind was the dad’s dirty work clothes like he came directly from work, the younger daughters pained expression and the older kid’s school workbook as she was writing in it while walking. She even bumped into the reception desk she was so focused. 

So I took them into an exam room and introducing myself the daughters homework caught my eye as she sat down to work on it “What class is that for?” 

“Health Sciences,” she answers without looking up “It’s a basic intro to the medical field, right now we’re working on identifying basic long term illnesses and before that common bacterial and viral infections.” 

I nod finding it pretty cool they offered classes like that in highschool “Want a little hands on experience?” I ask disregarding the fact it would make this a lot longer.

She looks up at that and stares a little “Uh, yah that’d be awesome,” she says standing up and I motion for her to take the lead with her little sister up on the table. 

She lets a nervous laugh out before asking what the problem is to her little sister. She complains about her ear hurting and tugs at it. The older sister nods and asks her if she’s had any headaches, trouble hearing or balancing and a few other symptoms. 

After her little sister answers she turns to me and asks if I can take her temperature and look in her ear. I agree with a grin, knowing she’s doing a pretty good job for a teen with zero medical training. 

“Her temperature’s thirty-eight point six and the inside of her ear is red and inflamed,” I tell her, tossing the little earpiece in the trash “Diagnosis and recommended treatment?” I ask sitting at the desk. 

She smiles shyly “Ear infection, probably AOM so I’d write a prescription but wait a day or two to see if it gets better on it’s own,” 

I nod my head “I concur with your diagnosis and treatment,” I say writing out a prescription then getting the door “Keep studying kid you’re headed places,” I say as she walks by. 

She beams and practically skips out the door before I lock it for the night. 

I head up stairs into the living room, the smell of salmon hitting me as I walk past the grey couch with it’s peculiar pillows and tables with scattered candles and pictures on them to the kitchen. 

Adam stands at the white counter mixing a salad, his back to me as I walk up and snake my arms around him. He chuckles but continues mixing as I rest my head on his shoulder, given I have to go up on my toes to do that. I hum into his ear “They’re doing a Midsummer’s Dream tomorrow at the live theatre,”

“Oh?” he says moving the bowl away before turning to face me, letting his hands trail up my sides then back down to my back “That sounds nice.” 

I press against him letting my head rest on his chest, the scent of his cologne making me sigh “We should make it a date, and get dressed up for it,” I say nuzzling further into him “Maybe even go out for dinner,”

“Let’s do that,” he says lightly pushing me so he can look at me “Spaghetti Factory for dinner?” he asks, the timer for the fish going off.

I nod and cross the kitchen to grab plates and cutlery, Adam pulling the fish out of the oven. He plates our meals meticulously for fifteen minets as I watch him, my stomach nagging at me to just grab the plate and eat. I push the thought out of my mind because I know Adam loves doing this, as evident by his grin. 

We end up eating in the kitchen, me up on a counter and Adam cross legged on the floor, talking about how Romeo and Juliet could have turned out if Romeo had been in love with Tibalt. The conversation eventually lead to us making dick jokes and our sides hurt from laughing too much we couldn’t breathe. 

Coming down from our fit of laughter we catch each other's eyes and smile.

“Follow me,” Adam says softly getting to his feet and slipping his hands in mine. I do as he asks, getting down and letting him lead me into the living room bathed in a dusty orange light from the setting sun. He lets my hands go in the middle of the empty floor and walks over to the old record player we have. 

Choosing a disc he places the needle on it and a slow jazz song plays as he wraps his arms around my waist and I reach mine up to wrap around his neck. We sway to the music for what feels like hours and I can’t help but believe I’m the happiest man alive.