FICTION FRIDAY: Thimbleful – Have a Blast/Rose Colored Glasses

These two were short (200 and 300) prompts, so I figured I’d mush them together! Again, these are taken from the Thimbleful Thursday page, run by my dear friend and beloved author Lyn Thorne-Alder, who I heartily recommend you check out. (Both her stuff, and of course the TTH page. Because it’s fun! And good. Yes.) So prompt #1 is…a new world, I guess. No clue; it’s not an established setting. And prompt #2 is from NOBLESSE OBLIGE’s world. Enjoy!

1: “have a blast”

I sat on the far side of the doorway, face in my hands, desperately trying to keep my shoulders from shaking. Trying to keep the sobs trapped under lock and key. I couldn’t make a noise. Couldn’t let him know. I didn’t dare find out what happened…if he heard me.

A jolt sparked through my body as a soft knock came at the door. “Jonah?” I couldn’t speak. “I’m going to head out, okay? Mark called and said a bunch of the guys are going out to hit up the bar and watch the game. You want to come?”

I wanted to come. I wanted to be a part of his stupid group of friends. I wanted to be more than I could possibly ever be in his eyes…and especially in his friends’ eyes. I managed to shake my head, though I knew he couldn’t see. “No, I’ve got some work to to do here. Don’t worry about it.”

There was a long pause, and I could hear his weight shift outside the door. “You sure? Mark asked about you specifically.”

I swallowed. Of course he had. “Yeah, I’m sure. Go ahead. Have a blast.”

I still don’t know how I kept my voice level, kept it from cracking and showing all the pain and passive-aggressiveness inside.

2: “wearing rose-colored glasses”

“Must be bloody well nice.” Jasper kicked his feet, glaring at the floor.

“What are you talking about?”

Bright blue eyes came up to meet hers. “You’re kidding, right? You think everythin’s just goin’ to be hunky-dory now? Just ’cause he’s come down off ‘is high horse for three seconds?”

Kenna scoffed. “I know you don’t like him, Jasper, but I thought you’d at least trust my judgment a bit better.”

“I did, back before you started putting in with him.” Kenna didn’t know what to say in response to that, what to do in the face of the pain and frustration the cook was throwing back at her. “Back when you weren’t jus’ seein’ all the good in everythin’ all day long.”

“What’s wrong with being optimistic? God, Jasper! This house could use a little more optimism! And if we can start turning Alan around, then who’s to say that we can’t–”

“Alan. Goddamn.” He shook his head. “Listen to you. Like I don’t even know you.”

Now Kenna was starting to get huffy. “You know, I’ve spoken up for both you and Roscoe to the family before. To the young master,” she added, stressing the traditional title for Alan. “And you know what they’ve said?”

“That they picked me up and for all my problems I’m too damned talented to get rid of.”

“Arrogant ass.”

“S’not arrogance if it’s true. Try to tell me it’s not.” Of course, she couldn’t respond. “They picked me, and I picked Roscoe. An’ no matter what you might ‘ave said, and no matter what they might ‘ave thought, I’m not going anywhere. You, on the other hand, are just a dishmaid gettin’ uppity with the family.”

Her blood went cold. “You take that back. You don’t believe it.”

“Prove to me I’m wrong, Cherry. Then I’ll start thinking about what I believe.”


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