That Boston Boy (an Affair)

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"So...you're gonna leave soon?" I asked.

He winked. "Keen to get the sheets clean?"

I pondered for a moment. I couldn't let him win by acting like I wanted him gone. "Your assonance aside, I would you stayed," I offered, in perfect iambic pentameter, with a flourish.

"I told Joey checkout was at-" he stopped short. My eyes widened. So did his.

"Midtown checks out at eleven, huh?" My retort made him blush.

"Well, I didn't know what I would tell him about-"

"-that Boston Boy," I finished his sentence. I'd often referred to myself that way, the flirtatious pest who made overtures to him from a safe distance, the one he would likely never meet. He looked slightly uncomfortable, and I realized I was probably being unfair. I got up to clear the dishes, kissed his cheek playfully. "Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."

He gently grabbed my wrist and I dropped a fork, which clanged noisily. "What would you like me to do?"

"Look to like, if looking liking move." Somehow my slightly cracking heart was coping in the most ridiculous manner with Shakespeare. "Or...something."

We stood in silence for a moment more, until at last I felt him captive held, more by my force of will, than by my love. My heart demurred, and gave his chains their key.

"I'll help you take your things down to your car."

He gathered up his bags, and waited while I put on clothes to brave the chill outside. I let him out ahead of me and stopped, his suitcase in my hand, my final stand.

"What is love, 'tis not hereafter?" I sang - Thomas Morely's setting of words from Twelfth Night.

"Stop," his shoulders sank, but he didn't turn around.

"What is love, 'tis not hereafter?

Present mirth hath present laughter.

Present mirth hath present laughter, what's to come is still unsure."

He turned slowly, and I continued:

"In delay there lies no plenty,

Then come and kiss me, sweet-and-twenty,

Youth's a stuff will not endure."

My voice cracked on the last note, and my eyes teared slightly. Daniel walked back into the apartment, dropped his bags, and this time threw himself at me from the front.

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AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

"tis a joy when first we begin but a bitter sadness when we are done, leaving naught but tears trailing restlessly in the wind"

- a foolish poet

good story, thanks man.

adidas21525adidas215254 months agoAuthor

Really appreciate the feedback! In case it wasn't obvious, the last page is almost entirely in iambic pentameter ;)

AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

The good stories make your heart ache a little. Bittersweet perfection. I hated for it to end.

MRayWatcherMRayWatcher4 months ago

The biggest danger of an affair is the fact that it always seems to lead to falling in love. Add the factor of both having a partner who, though not present, fuels the fire. In thinking about this story I also have a familiar line. Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Having felt similar fleeting passion and as I read this work, I found myself being more of an observer present in the room with these lovers. A very well written piece.

AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

What a beautiful story!! Well written, fun and sexy. I felt a lot of beautiful emotions. I’d love another chapter!!!

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