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Flash Fiction written for the And Then 2021 Contest, in the LGBTQ+ genre.
Word Count: 316 (including prompt), 296 (excluding prompt)
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Maybe someday the sun would rise for us, and maybe someday all the fears would be drowned by our dreams. But till that day comes, I can only wait; silently, patiently... painfully.
I squeezed Clara's hand. Feebly, she squeezed back, her pink lips twitching upwards into a forced smile.
My eyes lingered on the petite girl's face. Her hair, dark as the night, glowed under the moonlight, while her eyes, round as the moon, shimmered from the tears, sparkling even brighter than the stars. I hate that I could only ever observe her like this after the sun had long set, but her radiance was more than enough to make up for the darkness.
We were sitting in the makeshift treehouse that we had built together, almost a decade ago. It had been abandoned for years, but we somehow rediscovered it a few months ago —just like our relationship. Now, this shabby little hut was our only refuge.
"Aly, it's time," Clara whispered.
My eyes fluttered. I had been avoiding looking at the clock, but time did not stop even if you refused to acknowledge it. "Five more minutes."
"You have been saying that for the past hour." Clara chuckled lightly. "But I really need to go. My parents will return soon."
I swallowed; the gulp was bitter and sandy. How I wished I could hold onto her like this through the night, and into the day. How I wished I could look at her up close in school, in public... in the sunlight.
"I'll text you." She gave me a quick peck on my lips before hopping to her feet.
I watched the head of dark hair disappear into the swirls of night, and closed my eyes. Once again, I was back to waiting; silently, for her text messages; patiently, for her parents' occasional business trips; painfully, while she hung out with Bryan.
Maybe someday, I won't need to wait anymore. Maybe.
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"I'll text you." - Clara image made using picrew (@nonartisticart)
