Short Stories

Heartbroken

Rainy days had always been her favourite days. Jonathan sat thinking at the window of his favourite café, bouncing his leg up and down anxiously. He fingered the small midnight blue velvet box which lay quietly important in his coat pocket. He was tempted to take the tiny little box out and examine the ring once again, checking for the...how many times had he been checking that the ring was there?

It was a beautiful ring, sitting prettily on a band made of the purest silver, shining under the fairy lights of the café. Small vines made to look decoratively appealing intertwined around the gem set in the middle of the band. A precious centerpiece, meant to be admired by many. Jonathan smiled at the thought of Hazelle proudly flashing her finger in that way of hers to all her friends. When she tried to discreetly boast about something. Like when she flipped her hair a little too conspicuously over her shoulder after she had just gotten new highlights.

Jonathan smiled at the thought of Hazelle. The thought of her smile and the way she snorted when she was laughing at a very good joke. He loved being the reason she smiled and that was the best feeling in the whole world. He loved her independence and her assertiveness, the way she never seemed to be ashamed to just be herself. He admired how she could be so comfortable in her own skin. How she didn't give a damn about what others thought about her. In his eyes, Hazelle shined. Even more brightly than the diamond sitting in his pocket now. Everything paled in comparison when it was next to her.

As cliché as it sounded, Jonathan saw nothing else except Hazelle when he was with her. She was practically his whole world. Not that Jonathan did not have friends. Of course he did. But for some reason, Hazelle knew every single thing about him. He told her even the most embarrassing things about himself he would not have dared to confess to his closest friends. And Hazelle never judged him for his flaws. She loved every one of them.

She had treated all of Jonathan's shortcomings as opportunities and things to appreciate. Things he had once seen as blemishes to his personality, Hazelle had laughed them off, telling him in between kisses that they gave him character. She had worked her way through his insecurities and uncovering the many facets to his many personality, peeling them off layer by layer till he was completely vulnerable to her. Not that it was a bad thing. Hazelle had seen through his low self-esteem, helping him to build his confidence, encouraging him to take baby steps.

Falling in love, Jonathan realised did happen in reality. He thought about this, a smile playing at the corner of his lips, threatening to break out into a full grin. He was figuratively falling for Hazelle more everyday and it was uncontrollable, the way he felt. But she had found her way into his heart in a very noisy fashion. Hazelle never did things quietly, he knew that right from the moment he saw her.

Both of them were running to catch the last bus. Jonathan had just come from work, he had stayed overtime to complete some work but he had lost track of time. So he was running for the last bus. Hazelle had come back from a club, running in her wobbly stiletto heels. She really shouldn't have been out that night but she had snuck out of her window, filched the keys to her parents car but was now too drunk to drive herself home. She had a crazy streak but she wasn't reckless.

She had been drunk stupid and couldn't even walk straight. Wearing her heels and running, she had run straight into Jonathan and the both of them ended up not catching that last bus. But he did end up catching her before she fell to the floor. He had stared into her ocean blue eyes, mesmerized by them. She had stared back into his warm amber eyes in her drunken stupor, thinking how she would have liked to wake up to them every morning for the rest of her life.

Jonathan had taken Hazelle back to her car and driven her all the way home, shyly asking for her number. His heart had beaten as quickly as a hummingbird's wings, threatening to jump out of his chest. She had scribbled her number on his forearm, an inky tattoo on his skin, leaving her unmistakable mark on him as she had made such a huge difference in his life.