- Kyar - Prompt 2 - Siren - 259 words
- ”It’s nothing.”
Siren shifted, the acidic taste creeping back to his tongue, inching its way upwards as his eyes pressed shut. The train rattled along the tracks, pinging it’s next station stop before shuddering to a halt. He looked down, fingers curling tightly around the pole as it started up again.
Deep breaths, Siren.
He was three stops away from her home—the apartment with a bright blue welcome mat. He hadn’t been this way in nearly a year.
”We’re just friends.”
I’d trusted you.
The motion of the train car was lulling and disorienting. No matter how often he took public transit, this ride, he knew, was going to feel different. Wrong.
Why should he go back? Why should he owe her anything? She hadn’t cheated on him. In the end, she’d done the right thing. She left him, and moved on.
But the thought of her drifting away, while she fell in love with her neighbor... the knot in his stomach intensified. Two stops away. He felt sick.
”It’s been a while. How are you?”
The train blared its horn, rocketing between streets. New passengers shuffled in, filling the space around him.
”I was hoping you could come help me pack some boxes. I’m moving out.”
DING DING DING.
He swallowed hard. Time to go.
One shaky foot at a time, Siren stepped onto the platform, around the train. Hands in his pockets, he trudged onward, eyes down.
”Sure, I’d be happy to. What are friends for?”
He stepped up and hit the door buzzer, one last time.