Romantic Flashes

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Small and quick, Flash fictions are the perfect opportunity to leave the world you live in behind and meet this new passion. Even if it's in a fifteen minute break, just after you wake up, just before you sleep, in the lunch break, after you are done with you work, flash fictions are the perfect place to start reading.

Even if it's small, it will be grand. Each romantic story in this collection, though disconnected, will stand strong and independent. It might be heart breaking or warming, sad or beautiful, but it always will be immersive. This is your one path out of your stressful life for a little while.

Will you take it?

Rahul couldn't stop the tapping of his foot. If he had been sitting inside, it would have been worse. The table would have toppled over in seconds. He checked the time for the eighth time. His wrist was weighed down by the borrowed expensive watch. Which also reminded him that he had to return it.

Can't giving you loans for stupid reasons forever. His older brother had said.

Anything related to her wasn't stupid. He thought.

He jerked his head from left to right, not sure from where she'd pop up. The hair on his head, which he spent more time on for the night than ever, threatened to mess up. He patted them down. 

Finally, his eyes found her. Or, more accurately, her black sedan. Ayera walked out of the car in her dark blue business suit and high heels. Her hair were crushed down as elegantly as they always were and the radiance of her face, owing all to the light make up she wore won him over. Again.

From her car, clutched in her hand was her black work bag that she carried to every business meeting or whenever she was at work. This alone should have given him an indication of her expectations but he'd already concluded that maybe she was coming from work.

She smiled at him and he hoped he was smiling back. The sweat in his hands had come alive the moment he saw her. It would have been a big problem if she had offered her hand up for a handshake, but she didn't. Thankfully.

“Hi.” She beamed at him and Rahul broke into a grin. Rahul's eyes took the entirety of her in and he couldn't believe how beautiful she was. But, alongside the perfect beauty was her small imperfections that he could not look away from. Her eyes were unsteady. Her face muscles twitched as she maintained her smile. Her hair, on closer inspection looked like they had been straightened up in haste.

“Hi, uh… are you okay?” Rahul asked

“Yeah, never felt better.” She said and quickly continued. “What is it?” 

“What is what?” Rahul raised an eyebrow.

“Oh don't act innocent. We both know why you called me here at nine in the night. You want to show me evidence that will help me save my client, right?” Ayera said. Her smiling face was gone. Her charade of perfection started to crack.

“There is no evidence.” Rahul said plainly

“What?! Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Your client is guilty. All the evidence regarding the case, I have already submitted to the court.”

“I can't believe this.” Ayera scoffed. “You people in the police always do this. You incriminate people unjustly and public prosecutors like have to work our asses off to set them free! I can't believe I came here.”

“But, Ayera, I—” Rahul began to say.

“Shut up!” Ayera yelled. A few people passing by turned to look in their direction. “I have been overworking for days just because of this stupid case. I don't want to hear from filth like you.” 

She stormed off to her car and drove off into the night. Rahul gave a long sigh. His ears were red. People's whispers filled his head. He hung his head down and walked into the restaurant.

“Table for two, under the name of Rahul Khurana.” He said to the man behind the front desk.

“Sure, sir. And uh, your date?” The man asked.

Rahul couldn't help but smile sheepishly. “Got yelled at before she knew about this. Next time.”

The man nodded and led him to his table.


Submitted: June 28, 2021

© Copyright 2021 jivanjot singh. All rights reserved.

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