One Shots

She sighed as she pulled another article of clothing out of the washer to move them to the dryer. She checked the pockets of her jeans. She felt paper in it. She pulled it out. It was a picture of them. It was faded from how many times it'd been washed. She squinted at it. His face was almost gone. She sat it on the table and put her jeans in the dryer. She didn't need to make herself upset.

Once she had transferred everything to the dryer, she walked upstairs. She went into the kitchen to find something to eat. She opened the fridge and froze. The stupid styrofoam container of choimein was still in there. It has definitely gone bad, but she couldn't seem to throw it out. It was the last memory she had of him. She had been hoping to save it for the next time he came over.

"I don't want you to come with me." He spoke as he put the food in the fridge.

She stopped doing the dishes and turned to him. "But that's always been the plan." She frowned.

"Yeah, but you don't need to come with me. Your life is here. I'll be back enough that we can make it work." He held her face.

"My life is wherever you are." She argued. "I promised to stick this out and I'm going to, for you."

"I'm not bringing you with me. I'm not doing that to you. If you can't understand that then," He stopped and turned away from her.

"Then, what?" She crossed her arms.

"Then we have to break up." He exhaled.

She thought about that a lot. It had been a couple months since he left. She didn't change her lock or ask for his key back or anything. Deep down, she hoped he'd realize he needed her. She prayed that he wouldn't find what he was looking for while he was off playing hockey. She just wanted him to change his mind and come back. She wanted him to come home, to her, when his season was over.

She watched as he gathered his things from around her home. She didn't cry. She was too angry to cry. He put them all in a duffle bag. He met her eyes when he got to his junior jacket that he still wore to this day. She wondered what he was going to do with it. He grabbed it off the door and walked into the kitchen. She followed. He placed in on her trash.

"I'm moving on and you need to as well." He spoke before he walked out of her house and life.

She walked over to the jacket and picked it up. She wasn't about to see it go to waste. She hung it back up before she broke down. He was really gone.

She looked over at the door. It was still hanging there. She sighed. She needed to throw out the stupid jacket and the rotten Chinese. But she couldn't. She didn't have it in her. It had been months and she still wasn't over it. She couldn't let it go. She couldn't let him go.

She walked back downstairs to finish her laundry. She started to fold things as she picked them out of the dryer. A lot of her clothing were his old shirts that she stole. A lot of it had his junior logo all over it. She couldn't escape even if she tried. She changed into a pair of sweats with the junior logo and a tank top. She had no plans for the day.

She placed everything in her basket and got ready to head upstairs. A few steps up, she heard someone at her door. She climbed them faster. She set her basket on her couch before she walked to the door. She pulled it open and squinted at the brightness. It was him.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, confused.

"The season ended and I needed you." He explained, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. "You look good. How have you been?"

She just stared at him. "Are you really trying to make small talk?" She scoffed.

"I mean,"

She shook her head. "Come here." She said, her hands finding his neck as she brought her lips to his.

His hands found her lower back and pulled her into him. They kissed for what seemed like forever. They pulled apart and she wrapped her arms around his waist. He smiled, kissing the top of her head.

"I missed this." He whispered. "I missed your arms wrapping around my waist. I missed your touch."

She looked up at him. "I missed you." She breathed before he kissed her again.

Notes