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Write about a relationship, either romantic or platonic, that is being affected by jealousy.

Posted in Romance on Jul 29, 2022

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✍️ 70 stories

Alice Through the Broken Glass

Shortlisted for Contest #157 ⭐️

The significance of stage fright and anything other than life itself evaporated the moment the window shattered from the impact of my body.Sparkling shards formed an iridescent cloud around me, suspended under the clear blue sky. The glass sang a wind chime tune, a backdrop to my sharp intake of breath and the heavy thump of my heart.As the distance between me and the window grew and my blond wig blew into my face, tears flooded my eyes. I messed up now. Not only was I going to die, I was trying to be Alice whilst doing so, breaking my paren...

74 likes 110 comments 110
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Something Broken

Submitted to Contest #157

“Vince and Sal have invited us out on their yacht next weekend.” Ben glances at me before dropping his gaze to his phone.The lounge is cold. I sip my coffee and stare at the wilting pot plant in the corner. And the silence hangs over the casually thrown gauntlet.He coughs. “I’ll tell Vince no, then?”I grip my mug. He’s serious. Tiny ripples of horror radiate through the coffee.He waits for my answer as though he’d asked if we wanted to spend a weekend with our closest friends.“You can’t seriously expect me to go?” I ask.“This might be a good...

44 likes 33 comments 33
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Haunted

Shortlisted for Contest #157 ⭐️

TW: Domestic Abuse/Violence  I was so young when I fell in love with him. Seventeen is too young to know anything for sure, really. And it’s definitely too young to see through the sheep’s clothing worn by the fiercest wolves. Looking at him now, even in the midst of him resting so peacefully, I can see there is an evilness to him. Even if I didn’t have evidence by way of bruises and shattered glass, I can still see it. His whole aura reeks of demons and violence and insecurity. There was a time when I thou...

29 likes 12 comments 12
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THe Other Woman

Submitted to Contest #157

The Other Woman It’s a fairly innocuous piece of furniture. About three feet tall, cheap pine with a dark brown varnish, a couple of dents along the edges. Just a normal, unobtrusive hall table. When we first moved in, I kept a vase of flowers on it. I wanted to live in one of those houses you see in magazines. Floor-length curtains, hand-carved tables from Africa, splashes of colour on the walls. And so I filled my one Ikea vase with discounted flowers until functionality won, and the table reverted back to what it has always been: a dump...

20 likes 10 comments 10
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Lunch Is Canceled

Submitted to Contest #157

Life in her shadow became a long dark moment.  It all started in the kitchen. John was seasoning a steak — with too much pepper, if you ask me — as he explained for the hundredth time why we should adopt a child. Knowing I was cornered until he was done pontificating, I leaned against the fridge, almost regretting my trip there for the glass of water in my hand, nodding and saying “uh-huh” at the appropriate intervals. He paused just long enough to chug the now lukewarm coffee I gave  him earlier, then restarted his lecture wi...

19 likes 15 comments 15
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Just concentrate

Submitted to Contest #157

It was going to be a horrible day. The teacher was making him play basketball in PhysEd class. It wasn't his thing. Not only was he an apartment child, with nowhere to practice, but he absolutely hated collective sports of every kind. Baseball, football, soccer, absolutely all sports. He tried to find the silver lining in the situation. His heart was in turmoil though, as was his brain.  "Can't I practice running with the track team?," he asked. "Just give basketball a try, will you?" the coach answered.  To make things worse, h...

18 likes 2 comments 2
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Fire of malicious love.

Submitted to Contest #157

Escorted by three boys, he was brought limping in severe pain. Nazakat was a very cute boy with chiseled features and a feminine look; face blushing adolescent, bearing bigger and more dramatic eyes in which God had applied kohl with His own hands. Hair had just started sprouting on his upper lip, chin, and sideburns had appeared, which he plucked with tweezers instead of shaving. He even had a tattoo on his chin. The brightly colored silk Kaftan smelt of his intense, musky perfume. The silk trousers were soaked with blood, oozing from a lon...

16 likes 2 comments 2
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Smile For Me

Submitted to Contest #157

Trigger Warning: This story contains stalking as well as implied signs of violenceAre you seriously going to see her, wearing the same suit as the one you wore on our first date?How unoriginal, James.I scoff and shake my head as I watch you make a pathetic attempt at making yourself look presentable, tugging at the lapels, adjusting your coat. You eye yourself on the rearview mirror, smiling smugly at your reflection as if you did a splendid job at making yourself look like a delicious meal. And as if that doesn’t cut it, you even comb your ...

15 likes 4 comments 4
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Second to None

Submitted to Contest #157

Five years.  Five. God damn. Years. And this is what it had come to. A streak of orange light painted the inside of my car, the last signs of a dying day. The light illuminated the tear and makeup streaked face that I was unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of in the rear-view mirror.  “You’ve seen better days, Hun,” I said to myself, shocked by how the woman in the mirror looked. “Maybe that’s why it didn’t work out”.  I chuckled, revealing a row of unhappy little teeth filling my mouth. It had been four days si...

15 likes 2 comments 2
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How My Sister Stole Christmas

Submitted to Contest #157

Content warning: This story is about Christmas. Yes, I know it’s only August! Please forgive me.How My Sister Stole ChristmasLucy was born on Christmas day. That should tell you everything you need to know about her. Somehow, I still remember that morning vividly. My favourite film, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, was playing on the VHS player and the smell of pine and sweet pancakes wafted around us. My Mum, belly all swollen like the stuffed turkey in the oven, was sitting on the sofa and my Dad next to me, cross-legged on the carpet. A se...

15 likes 10 comments 10
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Cute Bike

Submitted to Contest #157

“Your bike is so cute!” To Maya, everything was ‘cute.’ Kat thought, ‘It’s like she knows seven words and four of them are ‘cute.’’ “Maya, is there anything that isn’t cute? Bugs are cute. Babies are cute. Puppies are cute. Dimples. Shoes. Band-Aids. Rats. Anything?” Kat knew Maya had mastered the back-handed compliment. Calling something ‘cute’ didn’t mean she valued it. Maya’s use of ‘cute’ was nuanced. Maya assessed Kat’s response. She had deflected from the ‘cute bike’ to the use of ‘cute’ itself. She parried. “What I mean Kat, it’s ...

14 likes 6 comments 6
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Eighteenth Street Intimacy

Submitted to Contest #157

It was August, and the slow-dance gang was over by then. That probably had something to do with why I finally asked Rachel out, though I'm really not sure. Everyone else at the student house still called us 'the slow-dance gang' with as much sneering as ever. But Rachel had said the slow-dance gang was over. No one else knew just why, but it was her apartment and her CDs, and so we never questioned it, or at least I didn't. I was still hopelessly in love with Arlene and had no desire to watch from the couch as she waltzed about in Leo’s ar...

14 likes 0 comments 0
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Green Eyes

Submitted to Contest #157

Most of my friends are guys. Alex and I have known each other practically since birth. Sam and I met in the third grade. Cory and I became friends in middle school. I met West just this year. When West showed up in my history class at 8:05am on Tuesday, March 23rd at Adams High School, I didn’t notice. I didn’t notice the Beach Boys t-shirt he was wearing, or the cuffed blue jeans, or his bright green eyes, or the girl on his arm. Addison Dargen, the coolest girl in school, and not in the cheerleader/class president kind of way. She not on...

14 likes 0 comments 0
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Jupiter's Journal

Submitted to Contest #157

[Warning: this book contains talk of suicide, briefly alcoholism, very brief domestic violence, as well as arguing]    It was April 12th the day of the first incident. I was polyamorous, and was in a polycule of 6 people, and we loved each other to death.    Arlo Rosendale, my first love. Every day in the beginning we’d text, or call, or see each other in our classes. Though I was fifteen, my parents were overseas, so I lived alone. They sent me money for food and bills, so I wasn’t starving. Slowly, e...

13 likes 1 comment 1
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I Choose You

Submitted to Contest #157

“He’s using you.” “What do you care?” He gulped, slightly, if I hadn’t had known him so long I wouldn’t have had picked up on it, but it was a little thing. Like how his eyes were looking anywhere else in the room, but me. How his index finger was drumming against his side repeatedly. How his breath had shallowed. “I care. Of course, I care Hales.” It came out as a hiss. Four years. Four years and he hadn’t sent a care in my direction, four years since it happened. Four years since the day it all went to shit. Four years, Three mont...

13 likes 1 comment 1
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