Tag Archives: romance short story

Daring Defiance – Fiction Short Story — Romance — Drama

Warnings: Violence, Language.

Vincent woke up, groggily regaining awareness, and for a moment, he felt happy, before a pang punched deep into his heart, wrenching him back to reality, and a wail escaped his lips.

Vincent reached for Olivia’s arm, pulling her back to him. ‘Livvy, please, don’t go. I’m begging you!’

‘Let go of me, Vincent,’ shouted Olivia.

Vincent let go and took a step back. ‘Please, stay,’ he whispered.

‘We have nothing to say to each other,’ Olivia sneered.

‘Livvy,’ began Vincent.

‘Don’t “Livvy” me. God, Vincent, do you even love me?’

‘Of course, I do!’ The shock of the question hit Vincent like the punch in the gut he’d received earlier. ‘Livvy, you’re my world!’ Again, Vincent pleaded for Livvy to stay.

‘Then tell me, where were you tonight and what were you doing?’ demanded Olivia.

Vincent opened his mouth to speak but merely bowed his head. He swallowed. ‘I can’t tell you.’

Olivia let out a mirthless laugh. ‘You know, I thought you were different.’

‘What is that supposed to mean, Olivia?’ Vicent moved to block her path as she turned towards the door. ‘You’re the one who told me every other guy you dated disappeared. Have I disappeared? No. I’m still here because I love you!’

‘Then why won’t you tell me where you were? Why you have a black eye and a swollen lip? Why your hair is dishevelled and you’re acting shifty as though you’ve been in a fight?’

‘I…’ Vincent hesitated. ‘I can’t tell you.’ Tears stung his eyes at the hurt in Olivia’s eyes.

Olivia’s voice came out a seething half-whisper. ‘You’re just like my brother, Vincent; you’re dangerous. Men who aren’t dangerous don’t get into fights they can’t tell the woman they love about.’

Vincent merely stared at Olivia, trembling.

‘It’s over between us, Vincent.’

‘Olivia, please!’ Vincent reached over to take her hand and she flinched away. ‘How can you say that? We have plans.’

‘Move out of the way!’

Vincent and Olivia stared at each other for what felt like an eternity of anguish before Vincent relented and moved aside. Olivia wrenched the door open and, pausing at the threshold, whispered. ‘I never want to see you again.’ Olivia slammed the door.

Leaning his back against the wall, Vincent slid down into a crouch, weeping.

Opening his tear-filled eyes, Vincent reached over to Olivia’s side of the bed, the side where she had lain so many times after they made love. His heart ached for her.

A jolt in his ribs elicited a grunt from him.

Vincent raised his hands to protect his face as a fist came towards his jaw. An uppercut from the side sent him sprawling to the ground.

Kaidan loomed above Vincent for a beat before kicking him in the stomach. Vincent grunted, curling up. Kaidan’s friend kicked Vincent’s back and Vincent cried out.

Kaidan crouched and grabbed Vincent by the hair, yanking his head back. ‘I’m telling you to stay the hell away from my sister,’ he growled. ‘Maybe you thought I wasn’t being serious?’

Vincent heaved painfully as Kaidan’s friend punched him in the ribs.

‘Tell me you’re going to stay away from her!’

‘I don’t have to tell you anything,’ Vincent sneered defiantly.

Letting go of Vincent’s hair, Kaidan punched Vincent in the face again, sending his head jolting back before he grabbed his hair again. ‘Wrong answer. You’re going to stay away from my sister, and if you don’t, I’ll kill you.’

‘Do your worst!’ Vincent spat blood onto the pavement.


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Vanilla-Scented Love – Fiction Short Story — Romance

Nicholas traipsed into work, pausing at the doorway, fear gripping his heart. It was the same story every day: He promised himself this was the day he would tell Brigitte how he felt about her, then he’d arrive at work, see her with customers, dread the moment he should tell her, and then go about his day as though nothing was and go home disappointed in himself.

They had most of their shifts together, so he seldom had a day where he could just avoid her or reassess his approach.

Nicholas bowed his head. He felt like such a fool.

How could such a beautiful young woman ever feel for him the way he felt about her?

He looked up, steeling himself for the day ahead where he would have to resist all urges and ignore all sensations once again, and he stepped through the doorway into the shop proper.

Brigitte looked up and away from the customer she was helping and she beamed at him. Nicholas smiled wanly back and trudged towards the backstore to set his bag down. Working retail wasn’t the most exciting of jobs, selling decorations and scented candles at least made his clothes smell nice.

He walked out of the backstore and approached a customer who was looking at an antique-looking oil lamp.

‘This isn’t a real antique, is it?’ she asked, looking dismayed.

‘No, ma’am. It’s an imitation antique, which means,’ Nicholas put on his best smile, leaning towards her and lowering his voice conspiratorially, ‘it makes for the perfect house decoration. Looks like the real thing but is much more affordable.’ He leaned back on his heels. ‘But your friends don’t need to know that.’

The lady suppressed a smile before her lips curled into a smirk. ‘Go on, then. I’ll take it.’

‘I knew you had good taste the moment I saw you.’ Nicholas grinned and walked to the cash register. He took care of his customer and bid her to have a good day.

‘You’re so charming!’

Nicholas looked up from the register to see Brigitte smiling at him.

‘You have such a way with customers. I haven’t made one sale yet today,’ she went on

Nicholas felt his face flush. He smiled. ‘You think I’m charming?’ He moved from behind the counter towards her, feeling emboldened by her compliment.


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Homecoming Frost Queen – Fiction Short Story — Teens — Homecoming Ball

The dance music was pumping out of the speakers when Toby and Jack arrived at the dance. Jack looked about, scanning the crowd.

‘Well, we have our usual clicks going on but nothing out of the ordinary,’ reported Toby.

‘Hey! Geek squad!’ Steve called out as he approached them from behind, draping an arm over each of their shoulders.

‘Oh look, Toby,’ Jack said pointedly, ‘it’s the traitor.’

‘What?’ cried Steve. ‘I’m not a traitor!’

‘You ditched us for your more popular gang of friends,’ complained Jack.

‘I became the school quarterback,’ protested Steve. ‘I didn’t ditch anyone.’

‘Then explain not hanging out with us since the start of school, huh?’ Toby folded his arms.

‘I’ve just been busy. Look, I was hoping we could all hang out tonight.’

‘Because that’s not gonna end in disaster,’ muttered Jack.

‘Come, let me introduce you to the gang.’ Steve steered Toby and Jack towards his teammates who stood huddled and eyeing the girls passing by. ‘Guys, meet my friends, Toby and Jack.’

‘They’re your neighbours,’ corrected Dylan. ‘Doesn’t make them your friends.’

‘Dylan, play nice,’ warned Steve. He walked up to his teammates, grabbed a couple of glasses of punch from the table behind them and passed them to Toby and Jack. ‘So this is Dylan, that’s Geoff with the beard.’

‘Sup!’ Geoff raised a hand in a small wave.

‘And that’s Don with the tattoo,’ said Steve.

Don sized Toby and Jack up and down and nodded but said nothing.

‘Toby and Jack are two of the smartest guys in the school and my oldest friends,’ explained Steve. ‘I thought it would be nice for us all to hang out.’

Geoff shrugged. ‘Sure, whatever, man.’ He turned to Toby and Jack. ‘You boys know how to beer pong?’

‘Well, I mean, we know,’ began Toby.

‘Good, then we’re cool. Game later.’ Geoff grinned.

At that moment, Beth, the most popular girl in school, walked by. Her short sparkly dress was cropped mid-thigh, her hair was tied up with locks curled to perfection. She was the lead cheerleader. Jack and Toby shared a glance.

‘Hey, Beth,’ Dylan cooed, sliding to her to stop her. 


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The Red Herring – Fiction Short Story — Detective — Mystery — Romance

Peter watched the interrogation from the other side of the glass window, musing over what their prime suspect was divulging while he waited for forensics to return with any fingerprints. He absently passed his thumb and index over his moustache.

Their suspect, a lean woman with a sultry voice whose long wavy hair fell below her breasts, sat with an arm draped over the back of the interrogation chair, jutting her chest out to expose her cleavage, as though she were giving a celebrity interview. God only knew she thought of herself as one. Her lavish crimson dress was cut at just the right angles and the way she moved only made the heat rise to Peter’s face.

Peter’s colleague, Michael, concluded the interrogation and entered the room Peter was watching from. Peter cleared his throat. Michael looked completely unphased.

‘Certainly lives up to her name, doesn’t she?’ Peter remarked. ‘What, with that dress.’

Michael shrugged. ‘Unlike you, I wasn’t paying attention to what she was wearing, I was busy asking her the right questions.’

‘We need to piece the timeline,’ Peter prompted, quickly changing the subject.

‘Dinner party with concert afterwards, except our victim never makes it to the concert after retreating to change, the other guests arrive late, while the smoke alarm in the manor goes off before our victim is found by the maid.’

‘Did you speak to her? The maid?’

Michael rolled his eyes. ‘Sadly, yes. She’s insufferable. Complaints left and right, droning on about nothing ever left in its place once touched by anyone, and her laugh, ugh, I think she’s a witch.’

‘A witch? Really?’ Peter chuckled.

‘Have you heard her laugh?’ Michael’s eyes widened. ‘She cackles!’ He shook his head. The overhead light cast a soft glow on his five o’clock shadow — it had been a long day, and it was far from over.

Peter chuckled again. He looked over at their suspect who turned to sit facing the glass –the mirror from her side– and puckered her lips seductively.

Peter cleared his throat. ‘I swear, she knows we’re watching her.’

Michael placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. ‘If she’s cleared, are you going to take her home?’

Peter grinned, feeling his cheeks flush.


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