For the beginning of The Hysterics, please read: The Hysterics: Short Story
Standing outside of Fallon’s door was making my nerves boil up in my stomach more so than I have ever felt before. I still was completely unable to put my finger on what was different about her, but I knew that she was something special. Girls, to me, before were just tits and asses, that sometimes seemed to have something intelligent to say, well as far as groupies were concerned and those were the only ones that ever came around. The women I worked with at the chronicle, I respected for their intellectual gifts, but for the most part my coworkers stayed at arm’s length from each other, something I really enjoyed about me job. I didn’t care to make friends from work, work was just a means for me to pay my bills so I could bang on my drum set with the guys at night. But here I was, sweating standing for way too long, contemplating on whether I should knock on the door or not.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself back into my confidence, then there went nothing, the doorbell rang. Surprisingly quickly, Fallon was standing in the doorway, a slight hint of makeup and perfume made her glow in her own way. Her smile widened as I held up the bags of Chinese takeout, pints of rocky road and bottle of red wine, “I had to take a guess on what you’d like, and hopefully I’m at least not too far off.” I could feel my face turning hot and had to divert my gaze from her bouncy tits about to pop out and she practically jumped into hugging me around my neck, thanking me for this “sweet gesture.” A sigh of relief spread over me as I took in a deep whiff of her incredible sent then made my way into her living room.
Her apartment was nothing like I had pictured. I was halfway expecting grunge posters on the walls, a drum set where the couch was, and it to not smell like lemon pledge. Surprising, Fallon’s apartment was clean kept with nice leather and wood furniture, with the only touch of even whimsy being the lime green and orange paisley area rug under the coffee table. Even being so clean there was something cozy about the space and that helped relax me more. Come on man, get a freaking grip! She’s just a broad for crying out loud!
Fallon popped back into the room from the kitchen with two plates, one wine glass and a water bottle, than sat Indian style on the floor to divvy up the food. I smiled and sat down next to her, “Am I not allowed to drink or something,” I joked, taking the water bottle and breaking the seal.
She grabbed it from me, smiling shyly, “I told you I wasn’t feeling well this morning…” She trailed off and broke eye contact with me before continuing, “I don’t think I will be drinking for a while.”
I took the bottle, getting up from the floor, “Well then we’ll save this for when you’re feeling better.” I walked into her kitchen and rummaged in the fridge for another bottle of water, turning around just in time to catch Fallon wiping her cheeks. I was taken aback a little, maybe I should have given her that rain check after all.
“Hey, Fallon,” I paused halfway into the living room, not too sure what to say next, rubbing the back of my neck, completely showing my nervousness, “Ugh, you want me to leave? I didn’t mean to force this on you…” My eyes met hers, they were piercing with sadness, or maybe loneliness; longing for something I couldn’t put my finger on.
She clambered to her feet and got almost toe to toe with me before responding, taking my hand in hers very gently, “To be honest, I didn’t want you to be here, I wanted to be alone…” Stopping to search for words, she stared down at our hands, “But I really don’t want to be alone right now. If I promise not to cry, will you stay and not ask me what’s wrong?”
All I could do was nod yes and then wrap her in my arms. I had never wanted to run away and stay as still as possible all at once before and the sensation was completely terrifying.