Running With the Band

Submitted into Contest #50 in response to: Write a story about a proposal. ... view prompt

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The faint scent of a blown-out candle lingers in the hallway. Opening the window to let the smoke flow its way through the living room and out onto the trees, but it's stuck. I blow it along, but it just won't budge. I walk away knowing with time it'll find its course. I then fell asleep on the couch.

***

I suddenly wake up to a slight breeze tracing my shoulders. Like the scent was saying its salutations. Just as I crept to close the window, I hear a shout from below.


"Hey! Kennedy!" A familiar voice shouts


I look down to see nothing but white as I'm blinded by the sun. My face starts to burn, my eyes start to create little blue dots in my vision. I pull away from the windowpane to grab a pair of shades. Peeping my head back out only to see a leather jacket waving its arms in the air but no face.


"Hey! It's me!" The familiar voice shouts again


I still can't see them. Whoever they are.


"Hey, come on up!" I say with full confidence and panic.


"Which one are you again?!"


"222"


Not a second later I hear footsteps up the flight of stairs and a firm knock. I peep through the hole to finally see a face. It's Christopher. Who I haven’t seen and who hasn’t called me in months…just randomly shows up at my door with no notice…why should I let him in? I head to my turntable and bend down to the case just beneath it. Picking “Siamese Dreams” by The Smashing Pumpkins placing it on, and putting the needle to track one. I dance my way into my kitchen. Ignoring him. Debating on whether I should even let him in or not.


Another firm knock flows through my home as I pour myself a glass of chardonnay. I ignore once again, still debating. There’s yet another, louder knock. God, men are so impatient.


“Just a second!” I irritably shout as I lightly run to my room to change out of my loungewear. Coming back to open the door with a very annoyed, but very handsome guy behind it.


“Finally,” he says storming past me, heading straight to my kitchen.


“come in...” I sarcastically murmur.


For about 10 minutes we sat there in silence. The entire room was cold. He kept huffing and puffing. Pacing back and forth throughout the entire apartment. I sat on a stool tracing my finger along the rim of my glass, occasionally sipping, never looking up. Hoping he’d speak first. It felts as if we were back to stage one, strangers.


“So… like, what have you been up to?” Christopher cracks a beer open with my countertop and his palm


I jump up to check if my countertop was okay, shooting him a look of absolute disgust. Does he really expect me to feed into this shit? Like I know I will but like GOD.


“School, work, writing,” I muttered.


“That’s all?”


“Yes, that is all.”


This man comes and goes like the wind, I don’t owe him a play by play of my life anymore. Frankly, I never did. He just kind of does that to you, you know? That smirk, those eyes, his gentle hands that could melt one like butter. You sort of get sucked into it and next thing you know? He’s gone. Using the same tactics upon each return because he knows they work. His charm was magnetic, but you see, I have no energy to keep up anymore. I’ve outgrown that ‘running with the band’ lifestyle. I’m afraid he hasn’t outgrown his dream to be the next big thing. He wouldn’t be here if he had.


         “What is this really about Christopher?”


        “Nothing Ken. I just sort of missed you, that’s all.” he takes a sip of his beer.


It wasn’t the answer I wanted. What I really wanted was for him to hold me in his arms and tell me sweet nothings in my ear. I wanted him to tell me that he wanted something serious. Not just a partner in crime to do in the back of the venue after lines of god knows what. I which I assumed was the reason why he’s here.


“Seriously, Christopher.”


“I am serious Kennedy.” He walks closer, pulling me in wrapping his arms at my waist. Softly scratching the small of my back.



Check.



“I really missed you out on the road.”


“Obviously not enough to call.” I scoff.


“Well, I-“ He takes back his words knowing he’d probably regret them.


“You…”


Christopher just sighs and puts his hand in his pocket, getting on one knee. He looks up at me, hoping I get the picture. I sit there, waiting for the silence to stop feeling so loud.


“I have been thinking...” Chris starts. “about you and how I can’t be without you. These past few months I tried to get you out of my head because you said you wanted to ‘grow up’ as if you aren’t already the most mature person I know. I just simply couldn’t do it. I never want things to end. As a matter of fact, I want them to last forever. As a start, will you marry me?” he pulls out an opal ring.


Check. Check, a million times over. 


“Chris, I-“


“you…” he copies my tone from before.


“…love you...” I begin to sob. Falling to my knees, Chris puts his arms around me his hand on my head, bringing such comfort, such familiarity.



        “I love you,” Chris whispers.



        “...but I can’t...” I begin, too much of a coward to look up at his face.



“Kenny, babe…” Chris tries to hold my face, but I pull back.



“ I can’t run the risk of not being able to trust you, you’re gone all the time, and there are so many things that could go wro- ”


I’m interrupted by a passionate kiss, Chris’s strong, cold hands wrapped gently around my neck. His fingertips land behind my ears at my hairline. His chapped lips moving in sync with mine. That said more than what I needed him to.


I sigh, look up at him and say “okay.” 

July 12, 2020 05:24

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