writing prompt fiction rockanddrool.com

I’m rolling two prompts into one today.

From the 100 Word Challenge:

Using “weather” for inspiration, write 100 Words – no more, no less. You can either use the word – or any form of the word – as one of your 100, or it can be implied. Include the link from your post back here , and add your story to the Mister Linky list.

And from Studio30 Plus:

THE RULES:

  1. Go write something using the prompt: fiction, poetry, thrillers, fantasy, romance, personal memoir… anything.
  2. You MUST use one or both prompts, in any tense or form, as long as it’s grammatically correct.
  3. Try to keep your missive to 700 – 1,000 words.
  4. Come back here to link up in the comments section below. Include the URL to the specific post and not just your homepage.
  5. Deadline to enter is Sunday, midnight CST (5 a.m. Monday GMT)
  6. One entry per person.

THE PROMPTS

Vainglorious and/or Smug

[adj] having inordinate pride in oneself or one’s achievements; having or showing an excessive pride in oneself or one’s achievements


 

I sat in the front row in-between my twin, Sawyer and our best friend Theo. The somber mood made even more so by the rumbling thunder and the rain whipping against the rattling windows of the sanctuary.

The whole town showed up for our fathers funeral. The heavy wooden doors leading to the sanctuary had been propped open and seats lined up in rows filled the foyer.

A few women wept openly, probably his leftovers. He preferred women to his children. Which was most likely the reason tears weren’t being shed by his offspring.


I stood over his blatantly expensive, elaborate coffin and inspected his face; one that should be so familiar yet wasn’t. Even in death he was smug. Hey, he had amassed a rather large estate, why wouldn’t he be? He was as ruthless in business as he was as a parent. And heartless. And cold.

I guess I had been staring quite a long time at the man whose house I lived in when I felt a gentle tug on my arm. Theo had his hand on my elbow. Even at a funeral, when I should be somewhat sad, his touch made my stomach quiver with excitement. He was in the friend zone because he was supposed to be off limits.

“Hey Sloan,” Theo pulled me to his chest, “Let’s head over to the house. People will be stopping by to pay respect and you and Sawyer need to be there to greet them.”

He was right, of course. There wouldn’t be anything graveside so the crowd would be heading to our house. But, oh god, I wanted to stay right where I was, wrapped in Theo’s arms, inhaling his cologne and feeling his heart pulse against my cheek. “I guess. Let’s go.”

We grabbed Sawyer, who had been surrounded by a gaggle of girls, the same gaggle that giggles when he walks down the hall at school. Do they have no shame? Flirting with the son of the not-so-dearly departed?

He smiled his famously slow grin at his adoring fans, “See you at the house, ladies.”

Their uni-giggle trailed after us as we walked out toward the car. Theo and Sawyer had an effect on the female gender that was unparalleled by any other guy in our school. It had been this way since we were in Kindergarten.

We drove the short distance in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. When we pulled up to the house, Theo’s mom’s car was already parked in the driveway. I had noticed Nancy’s absence from the funeral and now it made sense. The woman hated our father as much as she loved my brother and me. She was our surrogate mother since we met her son in Kindergarten, ours had left before we had any chance to form memories of her.

We found Nancy setting trays out, strategically placing them on tables throughout the large living room and dining room. She gave each of us a hug and shooed us away. I took this bit of free time to head to my room. I needed to change out of these awful dressy clothes, they weren’t in my comfort zone. I needed to be in my jeans and wash-worn concert tee. Our guests would just have to forgive my lack of formality. I wasn’t feeling it.

As I was about to plop down onto my bed and try to figure out how to mourn the man who created me, there was a light knock on my door. “Sloan? You decent?”

My dang heart, it started to do some sort of tribal beat to Theo’s voice, “Yup. C’mon in.”

He had changed out of his suit and was now wearing a pair of jeans that hung casually on his narrow hip and a blue t-shirt that showed off his expansive chest and ripped arms, something he worked hard at and was proud of. As he should be.

“I need to talk to you. This might not be the best time but I have to get this out of my head because I am having a hard time dealing with it on my own.” The way he was looking at me, so hopeful yet confused.

My mouth went dry, all that moisture went elsewhere.

Mentally slapping myself to snap out of this, I tried to smile at him as I patted the corner of my bed, an invitation for him to sit down.

Accepting my invite, he sat closer to me than I expected. I noticed a slight blush creep across his cheeks as our thighs touched, it was adorable. But, it made me blush, which probably wasn’t as cute.

He shifted toward me. How had I never noticed before those yellow flecks in his brown eyes, “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

I nodded as he raked his fingers through his sandy curls, making me temporarily jealous of those fingers, “Yep, practically our whole lives.”

His hands dropped to his lap, his gaze tracking their movement. I started to feel a little panicky, something was wrong with my best friend. Forget that I’ve been in love with him for as long as we’ve know each other, this guy was a wreck about something and it didn’t matter that guests were starting to arrive, I needed to know if he was okay.

I grabbed his hands off his lap and held them in my own, “Theo, are you okay? Are you in trouble?” I sent a quick prayer up to the big guy that Theo hadn’t knocked anyone up because, in our town, that would make him an outcast.

He shook his head, “No. All good. Other than barely passing chemistry, I’m ok. Except…”

We locked eyes, and suddenly I had a slight idea of what was going on. But, I couldn’t believe it.

When his mouth found his way to mine, I still couldn’t believe it.

When his arms wrapped themselves around me and pulled me closer to him, I still couldn’t believe it.

When my fingers finally found their way into his hair, I still couldn’t believe it.

When my brother stormed into my room, startling us to opposite sides of my bed, and I saw the look of amusement mixed with horror plastered on his face. Well, that’s when it finally hit me.

Theo actually felt about me the way I did about him.