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a Little Story experiment
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Every now and then, I'm going to post little stories I've written that are writing experiments I give to myself. Questions I ask and answer for myself. These will be unbeta'ed since any decent beta would go nuts at the number of sentence fragments, the lack of commas, the general disregard for opening and losing quotes, basically, all the rules.

TITLE: Across The Room
AUTHOR:  gaeln
FANDOM: my own
          AUTHOR'S NOTES; Two guys are together, committed to each other for the long run even though, for the present, one wants an open relationship while the other doesn't, but who, because of fear-of-abandonment issues and an honest belief in their love, their destiny, chooses nonetheless to go along. What might happen within him internally as opposed to what he shows externally when he inadvertently finds his partner with someone else in a club where they are somewhat known?

Across the Room

Room twists and spins, dissolves and melts, finally becoming nothingness when I see you with him, Closing my eyes, I remember how to breathe and the room refocuses, refocuses into the clearest of crystal clarity, but only just where I see you with him, holding him, only just where I see you touching him with fingertips just as tender, just as caring, just as knowing as when you hold me, as when you touch me. Just as tender, just as caring as when you, only you, know me.

Everywhere else, everyone else fades, pales to sheerest white, shimmering all around me, everywhere else, everyone else loses all relevance except just where you are with him, only what is real is just where you are dancing with him. Closing my eyes for a second, only for a second, I fear what I don‘t understand. Why? Why him? Please tell me why you need him?

At my side Cody says, You alright? I nod. At my side Charlie says, You want to leave? I say, No. They lead me to the bar. Our friends at my side. Ours.

Watching tender fingertips, your fingertips stroking a stray curl behind his ear, drifting easy across his cheek and the room quiets, all the chatter of existence silences into nothingness. Except for my heart which pounds a deafening beat only I hear. Closing my eyes, just for a second, only for a second, I remember how to breathe. I turn away.

Cody says, Sure you’re alright? I nod. Charlie says, Sure you want to stay? I say, Yes. Taking a swallow of my drink, I turn back again, back toward you, I walk toward you and Cody says, Jaxon? and I hesitate, only for a second, I close my eyes only for a second and I smile to him and still, I walk toward you

Now, watching you cup his cheek in your palm, now, watching you caress your thumb down his throat, I stop. Ducking your head, you search his eyes and the space widens immeasurably between us, becomes infinite, impassable. Paralyzed with abrupt understanding, with the mind-fucking understanding that swallows me whole and complete, I stop.

All lies. You said nothing matters to you but me. All lies. That your love is given only to me. All lies. That the others mean nothing to you. Lies. Lies. Les. Truth is, when I see you smile at him. Truth is, when I see you kiss him. We are nothing but lies. Fear smelling hot of rage washes over me, pulses through me, pounds into me. Fuck you. Fuck you and your fucking lies.

Leaning into you, your arms accepting surrounding defining him as a part of you, he finds his place where I am supposed to be, where I am meant to be. His head on your shoulder, you move with him slow and easy to some far away rhythm when his eyes find mine and from across the room his slight and shimmering smile slaps me nearly blind. Closing my eyes for a second, only for a second, I remember how to breathe.

Claiming you as his, moving even further into you, melting even more into you, he shields you from me, shields you from even knowing that I’m there as a hundred a thousand a million eyes are on us. On me. On you. Waiting, just waiting so patiently to see what we will do. Even as, with each new kiss he dusts over your face, along your throat, the pain grows, demanding of me, why?

Charlie comes up behind me, says, Jaxon, let’s go, but again, I shake my head. Why do I make myself stay? as pain needed? as punishment deserved? as anguish required? Don’t know. I don’t know.

Seeing me, when you finally see me, you hesitate. Before you come to me, you hesitate, still holding his hand. His hand. Fuck you. Fuck. You. Stepping back, stepping away from you, from him, putting distance, even more distance, even more fucking distance between me and you, from him, I wait and I see confusion in your eyes. I don‘t know why.

You say, Thought I left you home.

I say, Cody and Charlie called, wanted to go out. Wouldn’t have come if I’d know you were here? Closing my eyes for a second, only for a second, I remember how to breathe.

You say, Well, you’re here now…so --

I glance to him, then back to you, I  say, Yeah, have been for awhile. Listen, not a problem, ya know? No big deal. But you’re looking at him. At him. Have eyes only for him. Have to go. Have to go. Have to get thefuck out. I say, We’ll just be going, No big deal anyway, right? Plenty of other bars in this town. I never would have --

Stop. You say, Jaxon, stop. Just. Stop.

So I do. Even if my shaking doesn’t. Even if the room still shimmers white. Even if I can only just remember how to breathe. Even if I know, even if I have always known, I will only ever love you. I stop. What else?

Talking to you, holding on to you, he tries to wipe the cloud of darkness he sees in your eyes, so I turn away, retreat to the place where I know you aren‘t. Back to Cody. Back to Charlie. Back. Walk with me. They walk with me to the door. They walk with me away. Away from you. We just walk the thefuck away from you.

Then, you call out to me, Baby?

And again I stop, I turn to you, I say, See you tomorrow, alright? You’ll be home tomorrow? Their hundred their thousand their million eyes are on us, I won’t let you down.

You say, I’ll be home tonight.

I say, Hey, like I said, no biggie, right? Come home when--

Tonight. You step towards me, towards me, you say, Tonight.

And I want to touch you. I want to breathe in your breath, your scent; I want to tell you that you are mine. I want to feel the sweat of your skin on mine, your hands touching, calming me; I want to know the grip of your fingers in my hair holding, claiming me. I need the sweet taste of your lips on mine reminding me, don’t let me forget, why I’m alive, but I can’t. I can’t. I can’t step toward you.

I say, Later. And I turn from you, I walk through the door away from you, I walk out to the street and facing the darkness of my night, I leave you behind.

to personal short stories

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That was so powerful and painful. I really enjoyed this and could envision the scenario.

thank you so much, yours is just the response I was hoping for.

That was very intense and so good writing.

thank you so much, intense was what I was going for. I want to do more, just hope I can come up with little ideas. If you think of any, let me know.

i think the epitome of unconditional love is said here -

So I do. Even if my trembling won’t. Even if the room still shimmers white. Even if I can only just remember how to breathe. Even even even if I know I will only ever love you.

great fic.


I think the love runs both way, it's just that one doesn't equate sex with love and the other does. I would have asked you to beta but I did think it might make you a little crazy.

If you have any little scenario ideas, a question like I asked myself, let me know. I love to write but the ideas can be difficult to come up with sometimes.

I think as much as open relationships hurt and I feel are almost cruel if one doesn't agree really, it is not the fault of the one out with other people, but the one making himself live throgh the pain. I know how it is to love and it not be enough, but I must say I walked, eventually. Not because he was wrong or I was right, but if you don't agree and they wont change then do yourself a favour right? On the other hand it did take me 3 painful years to work that out, lol. I really remember feeling so inadequate and the pain. OMG! So well described it took me back.

sorry, don't want to bring back the bad. You are entirely right though. This was my response to a story ashmedai is writing called Vermilion Sky, are you reading it?, where the relationship started out one-on-one, not open, and then one partner, the older one, changed it. For me Alex over-simplifies Rain's, the younger character who didn't change the relationship, reactions. That made me wonder. Obviously my take is not based on Alex's story but I wanted to explore that discrepancy between inner and outer response.

I have another one, along the same exploratory lines, almost ready to go and will post it soon.

It has been pouring with rain for days. Obviously, this bad weather reflects the fucked up situation the whole bloody world has found itself in.

I'm sorry, but I'm in gloom mood today. The situation at work made me angry, then the writing teacher with his incomprehensible comment... Angry and sad and disappointed.

Your story is very sad. If I were this guy, I would do the same

“Hey, like I said, no biggie…right? Come home when--”

Only I would leave this come home when--.

I'm voting for the open and honest approach. OK, the guy 'A' is a chicken in some way - he doesn't want an open relationship - but this doesn't mean the other guy 'B' is allowed or justified to be unfaithful to him. Quite contrary! If 'B' is for openness, then he should be open on all levels.

Poor 'A'.

Good story!

Now I'm going to watch "CSI:LAS VEGAS".


Added later:

It seems I misunderstood the story and what "open" actually means.

You meant having many different sex partners, right?

Anyway, 'B' is still dishonest in my opinion. Obviously, 'C' means a lot to him. He is not just an ordinary one-night fuck.

Edited at 2009-04-02 06:16 pm (UTC)

'It has been pouring with rain for days.'
On the other hand, we're experiencing a drought. all they say is 'cut back on use'. Easier said than done. Be glad for water. Eventually the sun will come, the rain will stop, the world will right itself. It's all cyclic. I hope your mood has brightened.

My story is a little sad. Been there...done that myself. But this is a moment. As I see them, they're mostly living a well-lived life. Every once in awhile, one strays, and the other copes. For B, sex is not the same as love, so he's cavalier, to him it's all so meaningless, that he doesn't even understand NOT to go where his and A's friends might see him. Obviously, it's not the same for A, but he loves. He's afraid, and he knows that eventually B will grow-up.

Hope you enjoyed your CSI. I watch NCIS a little. If you need help with writing, let me know.

'Obviously, 'C' means a lot to him. He is not just an ordinary one-night fuck.'

But he is. Remember, you're looking through A's eyes, you're seeing what he's seeing Not what may or may not be actually happening. B is not unlike Brian, just WAY less so. He's understood. C didn't get upset because he knows where he stands. A didn't get upset outwardly because he's supposed to understand B loves him. B just can't be monogamous, at least not yet.

Yes, you are right. I read, understood, and formed the impressions about the characters and story from my point of view. Instead of being objective, I was subjective - probably the result of yesterday's fucked-up mood.

Relationship thing sucks. Perhaps, that is why I am still single. I'm too much A; everything hurts and offend me. But on the other hand, I'm not a patient person. If I were A from the story, I wouldn't wait for B to grow up. Ha-ha!

I love CSI: LAS VEGAS. I call it the "original" CSI. I don't want to know anything about Miami or New York version. A couple of months ago our TV station, 'A' channel started to present Las Vegas from the beginning. It has been a pure joy watching it. Before I missed a lot of episodes. And, it's interesting how my impression about some characters changes from season to season. Especially Sarah is a very changeling character. She is a difficult person, very sensitive, easy to offend and hurt, over-principled. Gosh!

I didn't do "if" essay well (II. conditional). He didn't say I had to write it again, just that I didn't do it as he had asked. I wrote 268 words, used two "if" sentences, all others were "would". I thought it was OK. Well, it was not.

The theme we had to write about was "If I won two million euros, I would...".

His comment: The idea of the essay is to make you use 'if' clauses - if I won I would . . . You have not done this.


If she won two million euros, what would she… buy, treat herself to? Would she travel around the world? Why not? She had always tried to see as many countries as she could, considering her relatively low finances, of course. However, she would visit only the European countries, Australia, the USA, and perhaps a few countries of South America. Yes, she would avoid too exotic places, for she loved comfort very much. Comfort does not necessarily mean fancy!

She would travel around the world, meet people, and try not to kill them – ha-ha – or, let herself be killed.

She adored black humour.

For the world trip, she would need to buy new clothes and other little things: leather jackets, leather bags, leather rucksacks, leather boots and shoes, leather whatever – and hide from the ‘green’ and animal rights activists.

She could buy a new Hi-Fi system as the old one broke down months ago.

She could leave her job and do things she’d always yearned to do. For example, she could finally learn the art of gardening; lose herself among plants, bushes and rocks, she - invisible to the outside world.

She could study, not caring too much about the school fees, or not having enough time.

If she were smart, she would buy a flat or two, even more, and rent them. She would then have a regular income.

Would she tell someone she won? No, she would not. It wouldn’t be wise. Many jackpot winners ended badly. They lost family and friends. In the end, they had to say good-bye to the prize, too.

Edited at 2009-04-03 03:03 pm (UTC)

it's almost as if you wrote fiction when I think he want nonfiction. Probably if you had begun certain sentences, not all of them, with

'If I'd won two million euros, I would travel the world...'
'If I'd won two million euros, I could study, not caring...'

Also, to me, it's formatted just a little too much like a listing.

If you want, I could show you what I mean without changing much.

If you want, I could show you what I mean without changing much.

I would appreciate it very much. Thank you!

I'm going to write another essay, but this time with more "if" sentences than before.

see what you think.

If I won two million euros, what would I buy or treat myself to?

Would I travel around the world? Why not. I have always tried to see as many countries as I can even considering my relatively inadequate finances, of course. Still, even with money, I would only visit European countries. And Australia and the USA. And perhaps a few countries of South America too. I would avoid exotic places as I love comfort very much which isn’t the same as fancy. Yes, I would travel the world, meeting people, not killing them...just a little black humor. Or letting them kill me...I adore black humor.

Naturally, for traveling, I will need new clothes. And things made of leather like jackets, bags, rucksacks, boots and shoes. Just don’t tell the ‘green’ and animal rights activists because I also adore leather, leather whatever and they might get angry.

Or I could buy a new Hi-Fi system as the old one broke down and I’ve been without music for months.

I could study, not caring too much about fees or time. I could leave my job and finally do all the things I’ve yearned to do. I could learn the art of gardening, losing myself among plants, bushes and rocks, invisible to the outside world. Still, if I were smart, I would buy a flat or two, maybe even more, and rent them and in so doing, have a regular income.

Would I tell anyone I won? No, I wouldn’t, it wouldn’t be wise. There have been too many stories of jackpost winners that end badly. They lose family and friends, and in the end, many had to say good-bye to their winnings too. I think it would be best to just keep quiet.

In your version the words flow so easily. Ahhh! Maybe, one day, my words will flow just the same.

I wrote another "if" essay and this time, my teacher was satisfied with it. He also gave me another theme to write about. "If I could choose to be someone else".

He is funny; it seems I have to guess what he wants. Wouldn't it be easier to say "Jelica, as you didn't do your writing properly, you need to rewrite the essay"? But no, he expects from me to have a supernatural power and read his mind.

I think he wants to leave it as open, and thereby creative, as he can, but see how with the second one he was satisfied? I'm sure that one day your words will flow as smoothly as mine. I've been using this language for a very long time, and it still messes me up all the time.

(Deleted comment)
Thank you, as strange as it seems, I'm glad you felt the pain :D

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