Notes [Last revised February 16, 2018]:
○ All characters are voting age products of the authors' imaginations.
○ This short story uses
italics
for internal monologue.
○ Thanks to Skye4Life for editing this.
© Copyright 2018 by MindsMirror. All rights reserved.
Sloan stood at the end of her bed staring intently through the tall window that overlooked the ocean. The darkened room was fleetingly overwhelmed by flashes of light. Curtains drawn open, she could see the roiling waters and white caps of waves each time the sky lit up. The strobing electrical discharge seemed to reverberate through her, contracting every follicle as if anticipating the next strike. Tightening bumps rolled across her skin and the light hair on her arms stood erect as fresh sheets of rainwater inundated the glass pane. Fixated and frozen through the nearly endless dissonance of rolling thunder, she had no idea how long she may have been standing there. Several bolts struck along the horizon in rapid succession, their light revealing her state of undress and sending shadows eerily across her walls.
Ty walked along the rubber backed carpet runner toward his bedroom as he returned from his Friday night date. What he saw, as he passed her doorway, stuck in his mind as clear as a photograph. Her sharply contrasted image now emblazoned there by the blue-white flash that lit her silhouette. Her statue like form seemed to have no awareness of his presence. Perhaps his entrance was covered by noise or her distraction with the weather. The aperture of that window framed her perfectly. Her firm albescent breasts seemed to glow, yet the sharp relief shadow she cast featured temptingly taut teats that poked out prominently atop the puffy nipples.
He mumbled, "Goodnight."
Although his heart leapt, his stride was unbroken. He was lost in aimless thoughts while his mind's eye longingly reviewed the vision captured as he continued absently towards his room.
She flinched, startled by his voice. "Night," she offered her delayed response.
Her eyes struggled to see if he were in her doorway, but he'd continued passed. Realization crept slowly over her,
He saw me as he walked the path from the front door
. The carpet runner was a recent addition to reduce wear on the hardwood flooring. It ran along the edge of the dimly lit great room right passed her door to his room, but evidently had the side effect of stealthing footfalls. Storm contemplations she'd been lost in moments before, vanished and were replaced by obsession of forgetting his predictably punctual return home after any outing. After months of observing this behavior, she'd concluded that her brother's attempts at a social life were merely perfunctory.
Surely I couldn't have expected tonight's outcome would have ended any differently,
she chastised herself.
Surprise exposures by one or the other of them had occurred a few times over the past year or so. The shared bungalow usually afforded privacy, but it hadn't eliminated the occasional accidental encounter. Separate master bedrooms insulated most opportunities, however, inherent familiarity destined its occurrence with their living arrangement. In general their comfy abode by the sea gave them each some seclusion but less than a week ago she'd come home in the middle of the day to find him nude in the kitchen. A couple of weeks before that, he'd canceled his Friday date and seen the blur of her nude form dashing back from the laundry area.
Ty flipped on the light, closed the door to his room and questioned the rationality of agreeing to this. What'd seemed like the logical thing to do at the time, was now - a source of angst - something continued eating at him. It hadn't been like this at the beginning or even several years ago when they'd attended college together.
Sitting on his bed removing his shoes, he thought,
Am I crazy? Her door was open.
He tossed each shoe against the side of the dresser, their heels thumping. Slipping off his, socks, work slacks and shirt, he continued disrobing and finally donned silk boxers from the top drawer.
She knew when I'd get home,
his thoughts had nearly been spoken aloud. The bathroom light on now, he brushed his teeth while looking at himself with judging admonition.
Why am I thinking about her like that?
he asked squinting menacingly at his reflection.
He reviewed why they'd agreed to this and as uncomfortable as it was to admit, it'd come down to money, plain and simple. They'd both accepted their increased transparency in order to afford the beach life they both loved.
External forces had begun pushing them in this direction two years ago, as the economy had started to slow down. He'd been in a decent job as a civil engineer, but construction projects had fallen off significantly. Then at the end of that year the whole economic system had gone haywire. Fortunately, he hadn't been laid off, as many of his fellow employees had been, but he submitted to a fifteen percent pay cut.
Merely days later, his sister Sloan had shown up at his door in a panic; her lucrative contract position had been summarily let go. She was on the trail of a couple of short term gigs, but had nothing at that moment. During her visit, their lengthy discourse and commiserating evolved into a long twisting conversation like they hadn't had in years.
Eventually they'd arrived at what they both acknowledged as obvious. They were essentially throwing away money on pricey high-end single apartments. Their past had put them off making any investments or putting down roots, but they would soon be depleting their savings to make rent payments. In the end, they'd concluded to join their resources, pool what monies they had left from the insurance and start building equity in something. In under a month, they'd gathered together a twenty percent down-payment for a cute raised beach bungalow.
Their agreement meant they would have a lower combined outlay of money, which allowed a buffer in case one of them was out of work. The advantage was that in the long run they'd be on their way to becoming owners when they paid off their fifteen year mortgage. They took up residence together in late February a year ago and it was now early June. Things had gone smoothly for the most part, but neither had really thought deeply about the logistics of sharing a living space again.
After donning her nightgown, Sloan went to her doorway. The nightlights in the main room gave very little light there and she watched the light beneath his door. A tingle ran up her spine as the tension of millions of goose bumps rippled across her again. Lightning flashed, she tensed and gripped the door frame. She knew he'd seen her moments ago. Another series of flashes outside confirmed how brightly she must have been lit as he passed.
Is he thinking about me?
she wondered.
These chance exhibitions were definitely happening more frequently. Living at the beach invited various stages of undress and that's when it'd usually happened, but tonight the stormy weather had her disturbed.
I knew when he would be home; did I leave the door open accidentally on purpose?
she wondered as his toilet flushed and the light beneath his door darkened.
She went back inside her room, closed her door and climbed into bed. The sheets were cool and she wished she could feel the warmth of him holding her as the storm continued long into the night. She resisted the urge to go to him with an inner strength she didn't know she had.
