untitled ... not done

Seth glared gloomily out the window. The day was dark and overcast, as though reflecting his inner turmoil. Clouds roiled and rolled, tumbling over themselves and lightning flashed in their dark depths. The air was hot and still, electric and waiting, as if the world were holding it's breath for the coming onslaught. 1

“S’Gonna be a hella of a storm,” he murmured.2

“What?” Sara snapped.3

He tried to control the flinch that threatened to make his body shiver. Her voice was like a whip, reflecting her anger easily.4

“Nothing,” he mumbled.5

“Of course it’s nothing,” she growled back, low enough that he wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear her.6

With a sigh, he watched the storm’s approach, refusing to turn around and watch her gather up all the things that she deemed hers in the apartment. He didn’t want to watch her dissembling all the things that they’d melded together into their home. 7

Would she take the stupid refrigerator magnet his sister gave them when they moved into this crappy little place? How about the slippers he’d bought her last Valentines- the dumb fluffy pink hearts that she had laughed about? Would she want to be reminded of him when she moved in with her sister? 8

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Biting his lip, he finally spun around. He was going to face this head-on, not cowering in the corner. He’d always been a laid-back guy. This probably wasn’t the time to be laid back.9

“Sara, wait. Maybe we should … you know, talk about this some more or something.”10