Yellow Excitement by Einsilbig
Otherwise caught in the throes of a numbed existence
This, this is real and here and ours
Little able to dampen the excitement, not even distance
It still grows like the strongest flowers
Each day brings a new thought, but always back to you
A burst of warmth to chilled cheeks
And I know that this little thrill in my heart speaks true
Remembering all these past weeks
Fizzy – Heart 11 by DorottyaS
These moments spent together
It puts the time apart into perspective
Waiting without breathing, coiled to spring
A knife edge of not enough, never enough
Everything else bland, flat in comparison
Until, reunited, that bottled energy bursts
Shaken relentlessly with longing
And erupting in a tang that coats the tongue
A tilt of the head, a soft and fond smile
Meeting again, by sight and sound, touch and taste
Finally able to breathe, breathe, breathe
These moments spent together
Always make life more flavorful
Hand in Hand by MarinaCoric
Only a smattering of blemishes color your cheeks
Perfect all the same, unique in their placement
They only look this way on you
I know that expression, a resigned acceptance, disbelief
Maybe someday you’ll see the you that I see
It’s not just an imagining of my mind
Something I created, a veneer to hide you beneath
Truly, only you are on the surface
I wouldn’t dream of smothering one so bright
Concealing you, the worst of transgressions
Andrew was surprised to find that Richard was a heavy sleeper. Though, that might have something to do with the pain medication he was currently on, now that Andrew thought about it. But it was nice, seeing him so relaxed for once.
Richard was finally going to be discharged tomorrow, and Andrew had managed to sway some nurses into letting him stay for the last night. Richard had been going stir crazy for almost two weeks and was very ready to get out. He’d still be stuck on desk duty once he got back to work, but it had to beat sitting in a bed all day. He was nothing if not dedicated to his job.
Which made this quiet moment all the better. Getting to see Richard like this, face lax in sleep and mouth slightly parted for soft breaths to escape, it felt like a precious occasion. Even his hair was mussed compared to its usual neatly combed back style.
The sight made Andrew’s chest ache. The very real chance that Richard could have died sat heavy on his shoulders. He didn’t blame himself–they both knew the risks of the job, and Richard had handled himself well. They’d been outnumbered and overwhelmed, that was all.
Still, the bone-melting relief Andrew felt when he’d seen with his own two eyes that Richard was alive, and going to be fine, well. Even a few days later he took a second to let out a shaky breath, reminding himself that Richard was okay.
From his position next to the bed, head nestled on his folded arms as he leaned on the mattress, Andrew couldn’t stop himself from reaching up and lightly patting Richard’s hair. It was surprisingly curly, almost fluffy, even with bare minimum washing from being in the hospital for days on end.
Richard puffed out a little sigh and turned his head, facing Andrew more but still asleep. Phew, Andrew was afraid he’d woken him after all. He bit his lip to hide a smile even though no one was there (or awake) to see it.
Carefully, he moved his hand from near Richard’s head down to his hand. It was cold to the touch compared to Andrew’s warm palm. But between the coolness of his skin and the tiny twitch of his fingers, it was soothing, grounding.
Andrew settled down more comfortably with the knowledge that Richard was here.
Took a break last week to do some prompts on twitter instead, but back to WPW!
A Touch of Glass by thermalraven
Plaything, even a passing glance will carry him through the day
Longing, needy, aching with want that can’t be acted on
Eventually, he gets what he craves, pleased as punch
Always at the man’s convenience, of course, but he is satisfied
Sharing his company is more than enough, and his touch?
Enough to send him sprawling, to bite his tongue to stop his pleas
Desperate for any amount of attention, any pressure of contact
untitled by Briana Weiss
Robyn was beside herself. First, her alarm doesn’t go off—her phone had died in the middle of the night, even though she’d plugged it in. She figured her roommate tripped on the cord when she got back at some ungodly hour. Then the bus was late, resulting in her being late for class. Icing on the cake, it turns out the professor decides to spring a pop quiz over something that the class was supposed to read for next time. And he wouldn’t let her retake it, or not count her as tardy because her excuse sounded fabricated.
To hell with it! She growled internally, clenching her fists so tightly that her knuckles were bone white. Third day of school and she was quickly realizing that some professors really were assholes. Fine then. In response she turned on her heel, sneakers squeaking on the recently cleaned floors, and stormed from the classroom in the middle of the professor berating her in front of her classmates.
Like she’d stand around for that bullshit.
Regrettably, this wasn’t going to set up a good first impression, but at this point Robyn was ready to raise her middle fingers high over her head and scream obscenities at the campus as a whole. Even more regrettable, because she was actually a very pleasant person…
Sitting herself down on a bench outside Harris Hall, Robyn reclined against the cool concrete and sighed loudly, stretching her legs fully until her knees popped. She tilted her head back until she could see the sky through the branches of the tree overhead, letting the quiet calm her down.
“Man,” she groaned, closing her eyes. Slowly Robyn let her muscles relax, one by one, until she was practically boneless against the bench. After settling into her new apartment and all the work involved with transferring, she was ready for a break already. Northmont University had a great education program, however. It would be worth it.
Which made this morning’s situation all the worse; Professor Gillum taught a handful of the classes she’d need for her education major. She’d have to watch herself from now on.
She heard hurried steps heading in her direction, and peeked an eye open to see a young man staring intently at what she assumed was his schedule, rushing down the sidewalk to the building she’d just left. His glasses—hipster glasses, Robyn noted, though they looked a little smaller, how nerdy—were almost at the end of his nose, and his hair was a disheveled mess.
Seeing enough, she closed her eye again, only to have them jolt open when the same young man stumbled and tripped over her outstretched legs.
He squawked and flailed, his schedule and the couple of books in his hands flying forward ahead of him while his messenger bag slid down and off his arm. He landed hard on the sidewalk, and his glasses flew off his face, skidding forward into the grass.
“Oh my God!” Robyn almost tripped herself in her haste to get up. “Are you okay? Why weren’t you watching where you were going?”
She went from concern to anger in seconds, and the poor guy looked up at her. He blinked dazedly, the fall and her sudden mood swing throwing him for a loop. “Huh?” he asked smartly.
“You didn’t hit your head, so you should be fine,” she mumbled to herself, leaning forward on her knees to grab his glasses. “Can you see?” she asked, handing them over.
He nodded lamely, murmuring a soft thanks as he grabbed his glasses and inspected them for damage. Luckily they fell close to the ground, and only the frames were scuffed. “They’re just readers,” he said. He perched them back on his nose nonetheless, blinking owlishly at her. “Uh, thanks.”
“Don’t thank me,” she scoffed, sitting back and folding her arms across her chest. “My legs are what tripped you up to begin with.”
“Oh.”
“You should watch where you walk,” she scolded. He looked down and fiddled with his hands sheepishly. “You lost?” She stood and offered him a hand. He quickly gathered his books by his side and took it, standing up.
“Sort of,” he admitted, tapping his fingers against his books as he glanced toward the building he’d been heading to. “I haven’t been able to look around the campus much.”
“Let me see your schedule,” Robyn said, holding out her hand. He gave it to her, and she wrinkled her nose at the class he was supposed to be in. “English Grammar with Gillum, Harris 203.”
“Harris is one of the few buildings that doesn’t have its name on the side,” he explained. “I went to the wrong one first and asked for directions.”
I really don’t want to go back in there, Robyn thought to herself. She sighed and handed him his schedule back, blinking as she realized he was about half a foot taller than her. “As an apology,” she started, motioning for him to follow as she moved toward Harris again, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He followed obediently like a puppy. “I’ll walk you to the room. It’s kind of off in a corner, anyway.”
“Thank you,” he enthused, and when Robyn looked back he was positively beaming at her. She faced front again, hoping she was quick enough to conceal her blush.
She walked him to the door and motioned him in. He smiled his thanks again and ducked in the door. Not sure what to do with herself at this point, and slightly thankful that the guy had left the door open a crack, Robyn sat down outside the door to listen in on the rest of the class.
“Well hello again.” She looked up quickly to see the same young man standing over her, grinning. Class was over, and she’d just been finishing up writing down the assignment for Friday she’d heard through the gap. Robyn waved her hand a little in greeting and stood. “You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”
“No,” she said immediately, frowning. “This is my class, too.”
“Why not come in then?”
“Well…” She waved her hand dismissively. “I never caught your name earlier,” she said awkwardly, quirking her mouth and shrugging.
“Oh,” he said, looking like he would have smacked himself for the lapse. “It’s Dan.”
She smiled. “I’m Rob—”
“Dante. I’m glad you hadn’t wandered off yet.” Both students turned back to the door. The last of their classmates were leaving, and Professor Gillum stood there with papers in his hand. “I wanted to get you the syllabus since you missed class on Monday…” He trailed off upon catching sight of Robyn. She looked away stubbornly. “And I was going to ask you to try to locate Miss Voll, since you both found it fit to come to class late. She didn’t stay long enough to get the worksheet from the beginning of class.”
“Oh, thank you.” Where Robyn would have probably snapped at the slide at her earlier departure, Dan—Dante—politely took the papers and handed her the worksheet. She still pointedly looked in the opposite direction, practically snatching it from his hand.
“Until Friday, then,” Gillum said by way of farewell, and he stepped around them to leave. Robyn blew a quiet raspberry at his back.
“So. Rob doesn’t like Professor Gillum much?” She whipped her head around to face Dan again.
“Who?” she asked dangerously. He winced a little at her tone, but grinned all the same. “Robyn,” she emphasized, “just had a bad day. But apparently Dante can’t make it to class.”
“Dan,” he corrected.
“Danny,” she retorted.
“Robby,” he shot back.
“You—” She huffed. For a guy that was pretty wishy-washy before, he could be really… “You’re infuriating.”
Dante frowned slightly, and then shook himself from his thoughts. “Anyway… Thanks again for showing me to class, Robyn.” He looked to his hands, now holding the Grammar syllabus and his schedule, and grinned that sheepish smile at her again. “Think you could help me find another one? Unless you need to get somewhere?”
She rolled her eyes. “How about a map?” she suggested, walking ahead.
Catching on, Dan followed after her once again, smiling to himself.
The Library by george-wilson
Erin lightly tapped the spines of several books as she skimmed the shelf, humming under her breath. She hadn’t expected much from the town’s public library, but there were surprisingly more books on music than she thought. Suppose lots of bored people who’ve retired are teaching it, maybe? Erin wondered, but goodness knows. The university she was attending had a decent music program, but that didn’t mean the rest of the town would accommodate it.
Still, she was thankful. Especially since her professor decided that the paper they needed to write had to have three physical sources, along with two other ones. God forbid she just hop on Google for an afternoon–not even–and drum up sources easy-peasy.
Lazily thumbing another book, Erin pulled down one titled How to Teach Piano Successfully and hoped it would prove useful enough for her to use. She already had a small stack in her arms to work with, so the chances of at least three of them being handy was decent, right?
Erin meandered a bit before finding a vacant table and setting down her haul. As she was about to take a seat, a rapid tap-tapping on her shoulder made her jump and whip around.
“Ah, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” A woman, timidly twisting the strap of her purse, bit her lip and bowed her head slightly in apology. “Um, but, you wouldn’t happen to have seen a young boy wandering around, have you? It’s my son, he’s wandered off I’m sure, I’m sure he’s okay, but it’s been a little bit and…”
“Oh, I haven’t, I’m so sorry,” Erin said, sympathetically placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “But I can help you look quick?”
“Oh please, if you could. I already asked the staff and they’re helping, and I’ve looked in the children’s section downstairs so I’m hoping he’s just up here somewhere…”
After assuring the distraught mother that she’d take a look around, Erin set off back into the thicket of bookshelves. It was about an hour after school had let out, so there were a few kids in the library, but most of them seemed like teens, maybe middle school age. She wandered for a bit, wondering if any of the boys were the woman’s missing son–
“Wait,” Erin muttered, and stopped a moment. “She didn’t tell me what he looked like.”
Sighing at her own stupidity for not asking, Erin turned back to find the mother. She spied the woman sitting at a table, a book in front of her and an employee next to her. They spoke quietly, the employee pulling away the hand they had on the woman’s shoulder and patting her briefly before walking away. Erin glanced after the employee before walking up the woman herself.
“I’m sorry, I completely forgot to ask what your son looked like!”
The woman stared at Erin a moment before seeming startled at the question. “Well, his name’s Drew–Andrew–and he’s…” She trailed off, glancing down slightly. Her face had the look of someone trying to recall a distant memory.
After a moment of silence, Erin cleared her throat. “Ma’am? Your son, what does he look like?”
“My son, he… he has dark hair, green eyes like mine, and…” Another bout of silence as the woman began fiddling with the book in front of her, using it like a security blanket. She was acting like Erin was interrogating her.
Erin very much wanted to help–a missing kid was scary, she had an idea what this woman must be going through–but her almost dodge-like way of speaking was starting to get irritating and suspicious. Was this lady just messing with her?
Unable to fully keep the tone out of her voice, Erin started in again. “Look, lady–”
Suddenly, and for the second time that day, there was a tap to Erin’s arm, cutting her off. As she turned to see who it was, a messy-haired young boy stepped up between Erin and the woman. He looked down at the book in her hands as he spoke. “Miss Hanson, I haven’t seen your son yet, but I talked to one of the librarians and they said they saw him running around up here. I’ll send him your way as soon as I find him.”
The woman tearfully faced the boy and smiled. “You’re so kind for helping, thank you. I’m glad he’s still here and okay!”
“Mm-hm.” The boy nodded, rubbing his nose where his glasses rested on them. “This girl here was helping me–we’re gonna split up and find him, okay? Sit tight.” Like the employee earlier, the boy patted the woman’s arm before motioning for Erin to go.
“Thank you both!” the woman said, sniffling a tad as they both left her.
As Erin dumbly followed behind the kid, he waved briefly at the librarian sitting at the nearby desk. The librarian–the same employee from earlier–gave him a thumbs up and a look, and Erin was just more confused. She turned to ask the kid what the heck was going on, but he’d already taken off.
She stood there for a moment, not really sure what to do. She didn’t want to bother the mother–she seemed to have her own problems, aside from a missing child–and the kid was gone. She had her own work to do, but… the boy had said that her son had been spotted, and volunteered her to find him and send him back to his mom. Letting out a baffled sigh, Erin went off in search of… a kid, again. At least this time she knew he had dark hair and his name was Andrew.
Finally, finally she came across the young boy with messy hair and glasses from before sitting on one of the big, comfy chairs, lazily flipping the pages of a book. Erin quirked her mouth. So much for looking for that lady’s kid. She huffed. I mean, he has dark hair, but she didn’t recognize him…
“Uh, hey-y,” Erin drawled, waving slightly as the boy looked up to her. “Say, you didn’t happen to find that woman’s son, did you…?”
The boy blinked, pursed his lips, and then glanced to the side–likely at the clock on the wall. It was about a quarter to five. Sighing, he grabbed what looked like a library card out of his pocket and put it between the pages of the book he held.
As he stood and moved to walk past her, Erin, shocked, turned to look after him and called, “Uh, excuse me?” She didn’t even know what to say–this kid was kinda rude. Whether he was the missing boy or not, he could at least answer! And if he was the one that lady had been looking for, he could be a little more concerned! What the heck?
Sighing, the boy turned to face her, his nose wrinkled and face scrunched as if to say, “You’re being a nuisance.”
“Then come with,” was all he said, and he kept walking. Not really sure about the whole interaction, Erin decided to follow.
As they approached the commons of the second floor, Erin spied the woman still sitting where they’d left her. She was still toying with the book in front of her, not seeming to be reading it but really just using it as a way to waste time.
As the boy reached her, he placed his hand on one of hers and said, “Here I am, mom. Sorry for worrying you.”
The woman looked the boy–Andrew?–directly in the eyes, and her own eyes lit up while a smile split her face nearly in two. “Drew! Thank goodness you’re okay! You had me worried sick, why didn’t you say you were going to go off and look?” As she gushed her relief at her returned son, the woman stood and tightly embraced Drew. He looked embarrassed, but returned the gesture.
“Sorry mom. Just wanted to find a book to read. I’ll say something next time.”
Erin was baffled.
