Ficly

Man & Manu

“I want to be straightforward,” He started, blue eyes framed by the slightest speckling of freckles that matched messy, blond hair disheveled just above his lashes, “things can be deceiving, and honestly, Austin, that’s not my intention.”

I swallowed, my eyebrow spasming as it was prone to with nervousness. From the moment I caught his eyes, I’d had no control over my biological response. He was devastating, and that should have been my first clue.

All I could think about were his hands around that cup-the ring-around his finger. I assessed our time together in nano-second flashes wondering what I’d missed. Sure, there were instances of doubt, but he was just a quirky guy, I’d rationalized. Realizing there were even times where others had questioned him, I had defended my presumptions.

He tipped his cup, revealing it to be empty, and the table seemed to tilt with reality. There was no denying his advanced pedigree any longer. He twisted his ring to reveal the two small pinholes of a charging dock.

View this story's 5 comments.