I was/am procrastinating. I should be writing the third to last chapter of the novel length fanfiction I've been living with for over a year. I found this very short story tucked away in a dusty corner of my hard drive. I don't remember why or when I wrote it. In fact I'm not sure I actually ... well, no I'm pretty sure I did write it! No beta on this one, but you'll probably figure that out on your own.
I Want You
He stood in the hallway and peered into his darkened bedroom. The lump under his bedspread was small. He didn't bother to go closer and look. He knew if he did, he'd see curly brown hair springing out above covers that would be pulled almost over her head. Her body was tightly coiled, probably in a fetal position.
He'd watched her at the funeral. Funerals were hard on her and this one should have been the worst. Hell, it had been hard on him and he hadn't even liked the guy. But she'd been stoic, with no hint of tears. He wondered if she was sedated, but near the end when she turned and caught his eye her gaze had been clear and unwavering. At the church she'd sat between her mother and father, near the Morellis but not with the family. He thought that was odd. They'd finally gotten engaged. That should have made her part of the family.
He wasn't surprised that she was here. Tank had told him she'd arrived over an hour ago. He'd been tied up with a new client but came back as soon as he could. He hadn't known what to expect but finding her in his bed hadn't been even a blip on his radar. Whatever it was between them, it was no longer. He'd killed it with his inability to commit. Still, he knew she trusted him. He thought he'd find her quietly crying curled up in a ball on the end of his sofa. He didn't think he'd find her curled up in a ball in his bed, unmoving.
She needed sleep apparently. And she'd always found comfort of one kind or another in his bed. He'd let her rest. He softly closed the door and went to the kitchen to see what Ella had left for his dinner.
He'd finished eating and was on his second glass of wine. That was unusual for him, but it was a night for introspection. There were the events of the day to reconsider, and there were the events of the past year as well. Thinking he'd take his glass and the bottle into the living room for more contemplation, he rose from the table.
And that's when he saw it.
He recognized her loopy handwriting. The slight uphill angle of her script on the paper said she was glass-half-full girl, and that thought made him smile. The smile vanished as he read the words.
"How can I go on? Joe is gone and you don't want me. What's left?"
His heart stopped and then the adrenaline surged. He dropped the note and moved toward his bedroom, each step increasing the terror, until he stood by his bedside. She was in the same position. She hadn't moved. He couldn't breathe as he bent and, fingers trembling, touched her neck. The steady thump of her pulse made his knees buckle. He leaned over her and fell beside her on the bed.
She stirred and turned toward him. "Ranger?" she asked groggily.
He took a deep calming breath and spoke with a certainty he'd never known before.
"I want you," he said.
The end