Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Tell Her: Recompense

More from the Tell Her series.  Yeah, I hadn't realized it was a series either, but it suddenly went and had parts, and then an ending.  It's kinda wild.  I'm working on the end now.

She pushed her hair behind her ear, expression pained.  "I know I'm not the only one who makes your life crappy midweek every week, but I usually try not to be one of those people," she said, ending on a note that made it sound more like a question than a statement.  "So I kinda feel bad."  She pushed her hair back again, even though there was nothing to push.

He shrugged.  "It's okay.  It happens every week."

"I know, but..."

"You feel bad."

"Yeah.  So I kinda wanna make it up to you."

He chuckled.  "Don't worry about it."

Her nose scrunched and her lip curled as her expression became more pained.   

He chuckled again, turning away from her as he brought his elbows up onto the desk and laced his fingers together.  When he looked at her again, she was more forlorn.  "You really want to do something to make it up to me," he said.

She nodded.  "Or give you something that you like, assuming it won't make me miss my next rent payment."

He grinned broadly and her expression brightened.  He put a finger to his chin and thought for a moment.  "I can think of one thing, maybe."

Her eyebrows went up.  "Oh?  What? Do share!"

“A kiss.”

He sat silent, his grin dimmed to a small, amused smile as she blinked and thought about it.  “A kiss?” she asked.

He nodded.  “A kiss.”

“Just one?”

“Just one.”

Her face brightened.  “Okay!”

He frowned as she turned away from his door and crossed the hall.  “Henry, can I borrow that?” he heard her say.  Shrugging, he went back to work.  “I promise to bring you a new one.”  He hadn’t actually expected her to kiss him, although her eventual reaction to his request now made little sense.

Someone clearing their throat made him look up again.  “Oh…hey.  I thought you went back upstairs,” he told her.

“Why would I do that?  I owe you a kiss.”

“Yes, but—“

She thrust out her hand, cutting him off.  “I hope you like it.  It’s the best I could do on short notice.  And they just don’t make them like they used to.”

He took the little nobbled plastic finger cover from her palm.  “Um, thanks?”

“I know, I know…they just don’t make kisses like they used to.”

His office-mate, Andy, chose that moment to return.  “What’s this?”

“A kiss,” she quickly said.

“Oh really?  Not silver?”

“They don’t make kisses the way they used to.”

And then he got it.  Shaking his head, and for the first time in his life sympathizing with Wendy instead of Peter, he said, “I meant a real kiss.”

“Oh,” she said thoughtfully.  “Well I’m fresh out of chocolate, so you’ll have to wait until I go to lunch.”

Smiling, he shook his head and pocketed the plastic thimble.  “Don’t worry about it.  This is okay.”


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