#my otp feels

Goat (Story Number 4 in the 100-Word Richard and Camille Drabble Series 2)

Are you saying you want to use a goat as your alibi?

*Benjamin Sammi nods while the baby goat bleats.*

Feeding Richard. *she writes in her notebook*

*He stares at her, unsmiling.*

She knew he was in a sulk. He walked off without saying a word. He slammed the Defender’s door shut and irritatedly put his seatbelt on. She was amused at first but now, she was getting cross. “What?” She asked, almost like a challenge. He groused audibly: “Really? You named a goat after me?!” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a great name for a goat,” she said, wanting to add: ‘Because goats are curious, independent and intelligent creatures. Like you.’ But he interjected: “You did that to get back at me!” She wished she thought of another name instead.

Enfield (Story Number 3 in the 100-Word Richard and Camille Drabble Series 2)

So how are we going back?

We have the bike.

Oh. Actually, do you know what? I…I think I might walk.

Are you sure?

Yeah…yeah, why not? You know, it’s a lovely day.

Well, it’s seven miles.

I'll…I’ll be brisk.

In the sun?

Um yeah, well, it's…it’s 96 in the shade, it’s practically a cold snap…

She didn’t know why he abhorred riding the motorbike so much. It was a newer model, better than what Dwayne had before he came to the island. She decided to drive slowly behind him. “You can go on ahead,” he said, mopping the sweat off his face with his handkerchief and stepping on the side of the road. “What and leave you here in the middle of nowhere to faint from the heat?” She gave him a look that signified he was being stubborn. “It’s just…it’s uncomfortable,” he protested. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll be gentle,” she teased wickedly.

Petrichor (Story Number 2 in the 100-Word Richard and Camille Drabble Series 2)

The first rainstorm of the season caught them off guard. One minute, it was blazing hot, the next, rain poured down in torrents. He silently cursed himself for forgetting to buy a new umbrella. The old one they usually use broke during the last hurricane. Now, they were both rain-soaked, seeking shelter under a makeshift bus stop. They parked the Defender a mile away due to muddy roads. “Let’s use my parka. It’s waterproof,” she suggested, moving closer to drape it over their heads. Her scent assaulted him in the most pleasant of ways. Eyes closed, he thought: ‘Petrichor.’

Dance (Story Number 1 in the 100-Word Richard and Camille Drabble Series 2)

“You owe me a dance,” she announced as they drove toward his beach shack. He huffed. “I’m afraid that’s the first and the last. Anyway, I told you I couldn’t dance.” She shot him a quick look and said: “You danced fine to me. You even know how to hold a woman in a dance.” He looked out the window, face turning red. “Well, I’m not totally clueless when it comes to slow dancing, you know.” She smiled, happy at her success in making him admit something. “Then, you owe me a proper one.” He stopped himself from grinning widely.