Flash Fiction Friday: Roommates and Strangers

Today's story is set in the Myth and Science universe the morning after "Change in Perspective." Having read the rest of the series is helpful but not necessary to understand the story as it is.

And I know I changed the first line just a bit, but the triple negative was melting my brain. A double is bad enough.

Roommates and Strangers
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“Don’t think your pity party has gone unnoticed.”

Isaac yawned as he roused from his makeshift bed. He stretched, attempting to ease the ache in his back to no effect. He rubbed his eyes and frowned at Eralee’s scowl.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“I gave you a perfectly fine sofa to sleep on.” Eralee sneezed into a handkerchief she pulled from some pocket hidden in the wooly robe she wore and gave a few prim sniffs before continuing. “So why, pray tell, are you sleeping on the floor?”

“I slept on the rug, not the floor,” Isaac answered. 

The pixie looked less than pleased by his irritable tone, and Isaac watched her face darken from periwinkle to violet in sleepy amazement. It didn’t happen often, but he’d learned some species of Fae blushed during his time in Mab’s castle. It was a cue he’d soon taken as his time to flee as they were more likely to do so from anger than embarrassment, and their embarrassment could be just as dangerous for those nearby. It looked considerably different for a pixie than one of the more humanoid elves and fairies, but it filled him with the same dread.

He sighed. “I know bare wood and magically preserved petals are perfectly comfortable for you, Eralee,” Isaac explained, “but we humans have much thinner skin.” He clambered off the floor, wincing at a twinge in his side. “Whatever moss this rug is made from was more comfortable, that’s all.”

“Thinner skin,” Eralee huffed and crossed her arms only to yelp and drop them back to her sides as the move shifted her broken wing. “You make me sound like a troll!”

“Well I didn’t mean it that way!” Isaac snapped back before he could think better of it. He felt sure his heart stopped at the way her eyes flashed, but he couldn’t back down now. “I’m not meant to be in this realm,” he hurried to explain. “We’re the only species that doesn't have to scrape, tooth and claw, for our food and shelter back home.”

He winced again as some of the things Benari told him about the human realm was now came to mind. “Or well, we were in any case,” he added. “We didn’t have other groups vying with us for everything like you Fae do, and it’s made us soft.”

Remembering all the wars he’d heard about in school and the fights he’d seen some of the boys and men get into back home, he wasn’t sure how much he believed that. But three years trapped in the Sidhe court was a brutal tutor in navigating Fae moods. They could shift on a dime at the best of times, and Eralee was sick and injured, a deadly combination. So he figured he’d better placate her quick before he meet a sticky end. 

The scowl eased, and Eralee cocked her head to the side as her complexion lightened again. “It’s really uncomfortable for you?” she asked, confusion ringing in her tone. “But the petals are so soft.”

“They are,” Isaac agreed, “when I run my fingers over them. And the couch is comfortable enough for sitting. It’s actually similar to some of the chairs we had back home,” he explained. “But the petals aren’t squishy enough to be comfortable for sleeping, for a human at least. It hurts after a while.”

“I see,” Eralee murmured.

Isaac thought she said it more to herself than to him given the thoughtful expression she wore now. He wasn’t sure if he should feel encouraged or wary.

“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” she said a moment later. She considered him in a way that made him feel a little like a bug in a jar before nodding to herself. “I’ll find something more suitable…”

A hacking cough cut her off mid sentence. The force of it sounded painful, and Isaac could see her eyes beginning to water as the fit eased.

“Don’t worry about it,” Isaac said as he stepped around the table he’d moved last night to make room on the rug. “You’re sick and should be in bed. I’ll warm up some soup for you.”

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Each flash fiction in this series is 700 words or less. A new one, written from either a reader suggested prompt or a random first line, is published every Friday morning.

​If you have a prompt suggestion, add it in the comments below or tweet it at me. I'll include a screenshot of your suggestion when I post the story.

I prefer writing fictions based on the prompts you give me versus the first line prompts I can find around the internet, so I try to work them in as soon as possible.