[F4M] Happy Holidays; a small story of how my dynamics unfold
My little Foxy Boy thinks I am prophetic in the way I write my posts on here, so in honor of him I have decided to write a short story this week for you all. DMs are still open.
Y/N had promised themself they wouldn't check again.
It was an easy promise to make that morning. Alice had read the message shortly after breakfast, the tiny Seen beneath the conversation providing all the reassurance anyone reasonable should have needed. She hadn't replied, but that hardly meant anything. It was a holiday weekend. She had friends. Family. A life that existed entirely outside the small rectangle of a phone screen.
Y/N had always admired that about her. She never seemed to need anyone's attention, which made people all the more desperate to earn hers.
They let that thought follow them throughout the afternoon as relatives drifted in and out of conversation around the picnic table. Children shrieked somewhere across the yard, weaving between folding chairs while fireworks cracked lazily in the distance despite the sun still hanging high overhead. Every familiar sound blended together into the comfortable chaos that accompanied family gatherings, yet none of it seemed capable of holding Y/N's attention for very long.
Without meaning to, they found themself wondering what Alice's holiday looked like.
It was surprisingly easy to imagine.
She was probably stretched across a lounge chair somewhere beside a pool, sunglasses hiding that infuriatingly perceptive gaze while a half-finished drink sweated quietly beside her. Someone had undoubtedly said something amusing because she was laughing, head tilted back just enough that the sound carried across the water. Perhaps she hadn't even looked at her phone since morning. Perhaps it sat forgotten inside while she enjoyed herself without the slightest awareness that someone several states away kept thinking about her.
The image should have been comforting but all it did was cause a peculiar ache. It wasn't jealousy, Y/N told themself. Just a bit of curiosity about who or what was occupying her attention and whether or not she had even thought of them today.
That was all.
The phone remained in their pocket for another few minutes before their resolve quietly dissolved. There wasn't even a conscious decision to check it. One moment they were helping carry drinks into the kitchen and the next the screen was already glowing in their hand, thumb instinctively refreshing the conversation despite knowing nothing could possibly have changed during the short walk from the backyard.
Nothing had.
The disappointment felt strangely disproportionate.
Almost embarrassing.
Y/N slipped the phone away before returning outside, privately amused by their own impatience. Alice would have rolled her eyes if she'd seen it. Worse, she would have smiled at them in a way that seemed to say "Predictable."
It was absurd how often that certain thoughts no longer felt entirely their own. Months of conversations had left behind little echoes that surfaced unexpectedly throughout the day. Passing a bookstore prompted memories of novels she'd recommended. Walking past expensive watches invited speculation about what she'd notice first if she were standing beside them. Every small decision seemed to arrive accompanied by the quiet question of what Alice would think.
And now, every lull in conversation carried the same intrusive thought.
I wonder if Alice messaged me.
It arrived with such regularity that Y/N eventually stopped resisting it. The thought simply drifted through their mind before dissolving again, only to return a few minutes later with renewed persistence.
I wonder if Alice messaged me.
Someone asked if they could grab another drink from inside and they complied, desperate to check their phone again.
Nothing.
A little later they volunteered to throw away empty plates.
Nothing.
They offered to grab ice.
Nothing.
Each errand felt perfectly reasonable on its own. It was only later, looking back over the afternoon, that the pattern became impossible to ignore. Every small act of helpfulness had carried them inexorably toward the same destination, toward their phone and the hope that her name might finally appear.
Darkness had settled over the neighborhood by the time Y/N finally stopped pretending to pay attention.
The first fireworks climbed into the sky in slow, brilliant arcs, bursting overhead in showers of red and gold while conversations gradually gave way to quiet appreciation. Around them, family members leaned back in folding chairs with paper plates balanced on their laps, content simply to exist together for a little while.
But Y/N couldn't focus on the beauty of the fireworks when every red arc reminded them of Alice's hair. Every loud whistle causing their awareness to narrow until it occupied only two things: the weight of the phone in their pocket and the silence waiting on the other side of the screen.
Alice still hadn't replied.
Every few minutes their fingers drifted unconsciously toward their pocket before they caught themselves. Sometimes they resisted. Sometimes they didn't. The difference seemed increasingly arbitrary.
The screen lit.
Nothing.
Lock it.
A minute later it was in their hand again.
Nothing.
The brief flash of the lock screen soothed it for a moment before the cycle quietly began again.
Somewhere in the distance another firework exploded.
Someone laughed.
Someone called Y/N's name.
They answered automatically without lifting their eyes from the conversation that stubbornly refused to change.
Seen 9:14 AM.
Nothing else. Their thumb hovered over the keyboard, desperate to just send another message.
"Hope you're having a good holiday."
That sounded casual... She wouldn't mind. Would she? But in their mind they knew that Alice would know exactly what it meant.
It would be an admission. A quiet little confession that the silence had finally become too much to bear.
Y/N locked the phone and slipped it away with more force than necessary. This had become pathetic and they were desperate to show themselves they were better than this.
They had made it through the entire afternoon without reaching out again and surely that counted for something.
The vibration came so suddenly that it startled them. For one impossible second the entire world seemed to disappear.
The fireworks.
The conversations.
The laughter.
Everything dissolved beneath the single name glowing against the screen.
Alice messaged me.
Their pulse stumbled painfully against their ribs and they mashed their screen so frantically that it took two attempts before their thumb managed to unlock the phone.
There was only one message.
"You unlocked your phone seventy-three times today."
Y/N read it once.
Then again.
The words refused to make sense.
Seventy-three?
Their immediate instinct was to count backward.
Kitchen.
Garage.
Bathroom.
Porch.
The driveway while taking the trash out.
Standing beside the cooler.
Waiting for the grill.
The hallway.
The spare bedroom.
No.
Surely it hadn't been that many.
Another message appeared.
"I thought you'd have more self-control than that."
The breath caught somewhere in Y/N's throat as they looked instinctively toward the backyard. But everyone remained exactly where they had been moments before. No one was paying attention to them, they never really did.
No one except...
The thought came uninvited.
How did she know that?
