.:Behind Door Number 216:.
rated: PG (slight adult language)
type: original story
disclaimer: None! This is all my idea.
dedication: To my best friend, Kyle.
author notes: Please send my C&C, flames are welcome too.
He'd been standing there for over three hours. For three hours he'd pondered whether or not he should knock. Pondered if now was the time to say what his heart felt. Pondered if the person on the other side of the door would return his love. Pondered if his dream lover would accept his love. Pondered if now was the time. The right time.
He'd rushed to get to this door. The door itself was a normal everyday apartment door. Nothing special, except this door protected the privacy of the one he'd loved almost since the first time they;d met. He loved his dream lover's smile and beautiful eyes. He'd waited to tell his dream lover for what seemed like forever, but now he stood at the front door. He stood only inches from the hollow wood door with the number 216 printed in gold.
He licked hi dry, cracking lips. He fidgeted with his jacket. He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left foot. He ran his fingers through his hair. He watched the door, waiting, pondering. Now? Today? Tomorrow? Later? A sigh escaped his parched lips. He closed his eyes. He licked his lips. Then opened his eyes again. He sighed once more. He couldn't do it. He hung his head in defeat, turning he made his way back to the elevator.
"Wait!" a voice shouted after him.
I saw his truck pull up outside. I could see he was nervous. He got out and my heart stopped. He was that beautiful, he always was to me. I could look at him forever and still find him beautiful. He ran his hand through his thick hair and my breath caught.
He shut his door and locked the old truck. I always wondered why he liked that truck, he had the wealth to buy himself hundreds of brand new trucks. Or even a limo... or ten. But he was always the kind of guy who never flaunted his fortune. He was too good for that. Too kind. Too altruistic.
I could hear his footsteps coming from the elevator, I looked out the peep-hole and saw him standing there. He stood at my door for three and a half hours. I suppose he was trying to decide whether or not to knock. But as he licked his dry lips for the last time he turned to leave. I watched him start to go, but a sharp pain in my heart became apparent. My heart began to break as I watched him go. Slowing the pain grew till I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to do something!
I had to stop him or this pain in my heart would never fade. Would never cease. Would never lift. Would never let my love another. I opened my door and called after him, "Wait!" He stopped. He didn't turn around, he just stood there. I guess he was trying, yet again, to decide whether he should turn or not.
I was too. I didn't know if I should say anything or if I should wait for him to start talking. I watched his muscles in his back clenched and unclenched. He was nervous. I wished at that moment I could see his face, but at the same time he was a vision not only from the front. What can I say, he has a nice ass.
I don't know how long we stood there. Him looking at the elevator, me examining his tight ass. Him longing to flee without conflict, me only wanting "conflict." Him not turning, me not moving. Neither speaking. Neither twitching. Neither knowing what the other was thinking. Neither knowing if now was the time to do this. If now was the time to get involved. If now was the time to get in a fight. If now was the time to fall in love.
"Maybe I should turn around and confront all of this. I've been caught at her door, I have to say something. I either need to make up an excuse for being here or I can tell her the truth. I go with option number one; excuse. I thought I should come by and check the quality of your door. No, that's lame. Oh hey, I didn't know you lived here. Nu-ah, she won't buy that. Damn! Why did I come here?"
"He's going to try and run. I can see it in his... uh... well I just know. Because I know him. He's either going to just walk away or try to make up some lame excuse. Please just say something, anything. Even if you do lie to me, at least, you're talking and not just standing there silent. Please speak to me. Please, damn you! Why don't you talk to me?"
He closed his eyes and thought... /I have no choice.../
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I know I'm evil. This is obviously a cliffhanger. So can you guess who "he" and "she" are? Huh, huh? ^_^ I know I ended this at a really bad spot, but I didn't want to give anything away. So what do you think happens? Does he talk to her? Does he walk away? Does he give her some lame-o excuse? Does he tell her the truth?
That's for you to decide! ^_^
Dedication: I hereby dedicate this tale (or rather cliffhanger) to my cousin, Kyle. Kyle you're a great friend and I find it kinda ironic that I'm dedicating this particular story to you because as we both know, you hate cliffhangers. ^_^ Well thanks for always being there, and thanks for all your help and support. Much love, your baka cousin. ^_^