Shy

[Patrick]

I came to the realisation earlier today, while talking to a friend (who is one of the three people, not from my family, who knows that I write), that I usually write pretty sad, depressing stories. I was certainly in the mood for writing one of those tonight, but I decided that I'd try something different, namely writing a story, which aims to be happy, while being in one of those moods. Here is what it gave.

 

 

 

 

"I'm so happy, Sheila, so happy to finally be with you."

 

Central Park's tulip beds in Shakespeare's Garden were in full bloom, and their delicious scent mixed with the scent of crab-apple blossoms. It was a very peaceful, almost beautiful scene. Thomas only had eyes for Sheila though. It was just their second date, but it already seemed to him, that they were made for each other.

 

It had taken Thomas three months to pluck up the courage of asking the shy, brunette girl out, but in the end it had been well worth it. Thomas, just like Sheila studied literature at New York University. Both of them were in their second year.

 

As Thomas caressed Sheila's freckled face, he gently brushed a strand of her hair from her face. Sheila laughed, her crystal clear laughter competing with the songs of the many birds enjoying the warm rays of the spring sun.

 

"I love you Sheila." Thomas said, for what must have been the hundredth time since that morning. Sheila did not mind, she felt the same way about him. She had known for a long time that Tom was a very shy person, and from his looks towards her had guessed his feelings.

 

Lying in the grass, next to him, she was grateful that he had finally found the courage to ask her out. She had often wondered, since she was also shy, of what could happen if two shy people fell in love with each other. She had dreaded that neither of the two would find the courage to ask the other one out, and they would just torment themselves, blaming themselves for their shyness, and their inability to express their true feelings towards each other. It had been an immense relief, when last week Thomas had finally asked her out.

 

---Last week---

 

"Tom." Sheila said hesitantly, hoping that the quickening of her breath, and the slight flushing of her cheeks would go unnoticed. "I got your note. You wanted to talk to me?"

 

Thomas stared at his shoes. He had vowed to do it today, vowed not to mess up, like he had done the previous times. It wasn't often that he could catch a moment alone with Sheila, and he knew that he had to profit with it. Why was it that the girls he liked always were with their own friends, in front of whom he would never dare to confess his feelings to them?

 

He lifted his expression and locked his gaze into Sheila's brown eyes, those eyes he had fallen in love with. Most of Thomas' friends said that it was the body of a woman, which interested them most, but for Thomas the eyes, the expression behind them, and the actual personality of the person were much more important.

 

They were in a quiet corridor between two classes, next to a classroom, which had just emptied. The sun, shining in through the large southwards-facing windows, illuminated Sheila's hair in an almost golden glow.

 

"Sheila, I-" Thomas broke off. The whole speech he had though up for this occasion was already long forgotten, and he had never been good at improvising in situations including girls. He continued with a sudden determination, blurting out what he had wanted to say in a long speech in two short sentences.

 

"Sheila, I love you. Would you like to come out on a date with me?" he asked, and immediately turned a bright shade of red, and unconsciously started shuffling around on his feet. Just as a young child would have done after he had been caught doing something naughty.

 

"Tom… I don't know what to say…" she replied. Thomas did not dare look at her face. This was what he had feared. All those days of preparing himself for this moment, and then being rejected.

 

"Where to?" she asked. Thomas did not believe what he was hearing. Was she not rejecting his offer? Could this be?

 

"Well…there is this…charming little restaurant…" he stuttered, but was interrupted as Sheila threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him. It was a hesitant kiss at first, but as their mutual shyness quickly dissipated, it became more and more passionate.

 

They did not notice people arriving for the next lecture; neither did they hear the surprised comments of their fellow students, at seeing the two of them together.

 

Later in class, Professor Finston wondered at why his two favourite students were missing that day.

 

"How about we go back to that restaurant tonight, Tom?" she asked him, returning the kiss as they lay in the grass in Central Park.

 

"I'd like that."

Edited February 28, 2006 by Patrick Durham

[Sweetcherrie]

Nice, very nice

 

The emotions are well described, and you're improving greatly on your descriptions of things. You've added lots of nice 'flavours' to this story by the little things.

 

for example:

of asking the shy, brunette girl out, but in the

 

he gently brushed a strand of her hair from her face

Two parts of the story, but they give nice and warm images, and you even put the memory of the brow hair back in later.

 

Very nice