"A Furry Visitor" - Short Story Winner!

First place baby!

I recently entered the Chapter Short Story contest run by Romance Writers of New Zealand. It requires entrants to write a short romance story of no more than 1800 words. I'm so exicted to announce that my short story, A Furry Visitor came first place!

I wasn't going to enter, I didn't have any ideas at first, but then an idea at the eleventh hour came to me out of nowhere. I started writing and it flowed so well, I kept going. Surprisingly, it wasn't half bad! So I thought, to hell with it, I might as well enter. What have I got to lose? If I don't get anywhere, it doesn't matter.

Well, it went somewhere alright and I'm really excited. Want to read it? I've shared it below, so keep on reading. Enjoy!

Lisa xx

~ * ~

A Furry Visitor

by Lisa Stanbridge

Zephyr appears in my kitchen like he owns the place.

I find him lounging on the counter, tail wrapped around his feet, licking one paw with the self-satisfaction of an animal who knows they’re welcome anywhere. He blinks at me, like I’m the one who broke into his apartment.

“Right,” I say, placing my shopping bags on the counter, “you again.”

His shiny tag displays the name Zephyr on the front and on the back a message from the owner saying, ‘If found, return to apartment 309—Max.’

I moved in six days ago, and Zephyr has visited my apartment three times. Usually he leaves of his own accord, but today he’s content to stay, so I take matters into my own hands.

Max lives next door and I’ve seen him twice. Once collecting mail in a black hoodie like it was a security blanket. The second time was when he was waiting for the elevator. When I smiled at him in the hallway, he’d looked behind him as though I were talking to someone else.

What a strange man.

Well, looks like we’ll finally be getting acquainted today. I scoop Zephyr—a black tom cat—into my arms and he flops against my chest, purring loudly. I go down the hall and knock on the door.

It opens just as I’m about to knock again.

Max is taller than I remember. Barefoot. Wearing a hoodie again, blue this time. He looks at me like I might be here to sell something.

“Hi, I’m Olivia, your neighbour,” I greet cheerfully and gesture to my apartment next door. “One cat delivery.” I hold Zephyr out to him. “He broke into my apartment. Seemed quite content.”

Max releases a long-suffering sigh. “He does that, I’m afraid.”

“Is it a hobby of his?”

“We share a balcony, so if you keep a window open he’ll find a way in. He likes warm places.”

“And I radiate sunshine,” I chirp with a grin.

That gets a blink, even a twitch of a smile. He reaches out and takes Zephyr, our fingers brushing. It’s a brief contact, warm, but gone too fast. I feel the aftershock all the way to my toes.

Max clears his throat, his cheeks tinging pink. “Thanks,” he says, then disappears, his door clicking shut.

I grin all the way back to my apartment.

~ * ~

Three days later, Zephyr returns. This time he’s on my sofa, mid-nap, his face half squished into the throw pillow like it’s been a long week. I really should start shutting that window, but being on the third floor, it’s safe and I like the fresh air coming into my apartment. Besides, Zephyr is a good boy and I’m growing fond of him.

“You’re making a habit of this,” I say, sitting on the sofa and scratching him under his chin. He stretches, yawns, and rolls onto his back. No remorse whatsoever.

Ten minutes later, I knock on Max’s door again with Zephyr in my arms. Max opens the door quicker this time, like he knew it would be me.

“Your serial trespasser has struck again,” I say. “Honestly, I feel like we should be co-parenting at this point.”

He takes Zephyr from me. This time when our fingers touch, they linger. That same warmth spreads right through me, and I can’t stop grinning.

“He likes you,” Max says, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. Holding.

“He has good taste.”

A pause. “You mean the cat, right?” His brow furrows.

“Maybe,” I say with a wink.

Max mutters something under his breath and starts to close the door, a little slower this time as he watches me … curious.

~ * ~

The rain starts when I leave work and by the time I get home, it’s pouring. The aggressive, sideways, soak-through-to-your-undies-in-three-seconds type of rain. Since I don’t have a parking space at the apartment block, I park on a side street and sprint back.

The elevator is out of order, so I take the three flights of stairs, dripping, shoes squelching with every step. I’m half laughing, half freezing when I reach my floor. This time, Zephyr is waiting outside my apartment door.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.

He meows like this was always the plan and blinks at me. I scoop him up but don’t hold him too close and knock on Max’s door. The hoodie-wearing hermit himself opens it and when he spots me, soaked through, hair plastered to my forehead, grinning like an idiot while holding Zephyr outstretched, his eyebrows lift high.

“Your cat invited me,” I joke.

He gives an effortless smile, then takes Zephyr and steps back, gesturing for me to come in. This is a massive win.

Inside, his apartment smells like coffee, old books, and comfort. It’s warm. Dim. The glow from the monitors on his desk flicker across the wall and the only sound is rain drumming on the windows.

Max disappears and returns with a towel—grey, slightly frayed at the edges. I take it and our fingers brush again. This time he wraps his fingers around mine and our gazes meet. I shiver at the intensity in his eyes.

“Thanks,” I say, wrapping the towel around my shoulders.

Max nods once, then walks back to his desk like I haven’t just shattered the atmosphere with my existence.

“Sorry if I interrupted anything,” I say, perching on the edge of the sofa.

“Nothing important,” Max says. “Just coding.”

Zephyr hops up beside me and starts grooming himself.

“You always this charming?” I ask light-heartedly. “Or is it just for me?”

Max doesn’t look up. “You’re the only person I’ve talked to in three days.”

My heart does a small flutter. “That explains the social skills.”

He smirks and looks up, our gazes holding again. My breath catches this time and something shifts. Like the world tilts on its axis. And that’s when the power goes out. We’re in near darkness with only the faded light coming in through Max’s curtained windows.

“Okay,” I say after a pause. “Did I just break your entire power grid with my personality?”

There’s a small chuckle, which sends shivers down my spine, followed by Max’s footsteps. A moment later I hear the swipe of a match and a candle flares to life.

“No,” Max says. “This building’s just crap.”

He lights another candle and sets it on the coffee table in front of me. The glow flickers across his jaw, his eyes, the tiny scar near his temple I hadn’t noticed before. I remain seated, towel still around me, but warmer now.

“You can stay if you want,” Max says.

“Wow, I’ll have to mark this one on my calendar as a special occasion.” I grin at him.

“I like your company,” Max says so quietly I nearly miss it.

My heart does that flutter again, and I release a shaky breath. I lean back into the sofa, Zephyr settling beside me, purring. I pat his back while Max sits on the other side and pats Zephyr’s head. Soon our hands collide, but neither of us move and Max links his fingers through mine.

~ * ~

I find the notebook by complete fluke. It’s the day after the blackout and I stop to return Max’s towel. He’s out, but his door is unlocked, so I let myself in. I set the towel on the kitchen counter and turn to go when I spot it.

Black cover. Worn edges. Peeking out from beneath a cushion on the sofa. I shouldn’t touch it, so obviously I do.

It’s not code or a journal. It’s writing. As in fiction. I read a few lines and they stop me in my tracks. It’s sci-fi—lonely, strange, beautiful. A man stranded on a distant moon, haunted by echoes.

I read some more, only stopping when I realise I’m being invasive. I pull out a sticky note from my bag and scrawl a note.

Still thinking about that character on page six. Just saying.

~ * ~

The next night Zephyr is missing. Max comes banging on my door asking if he’s with me, but I haven’t seen him. I’ve never seen Max so frazzled, and he rushes out again. Apparently, Zephyr is always back for his dinner at seven p.m. and it’s already nine. I’m not sure what I can do, so I wait to hear word. While I do, I step out onto our shared balcony, and that’s when I hear that familiar meow.

“There you are,” I say to Zephyr, the cat appearing out of nowhere. “You had us worried.”

I scoop him up as Max appears on his own balcony and looks at me, breathing heavily.

“Found him,” I say, and Max’s shoulders relax.

“You menace,” he says as he takes Zephyr while looking at me.

“Me?” I hold a hand to my chest. “Zephyr chose me. I didn’t catnap him.”

A real smile from Max this time as he buries his face in Zephyr’s fur and whispers something. My heart does a silly little flip at the sight.

“I wrote last night,” he said.

“Oh. Good.”

“I haven’t written in over a year. I thought I’d lost the love of it, but then you—” He works his jaw like he’s mulling over something. “You just … saw it and liked it and it was the boost I needed.” He looks at me hard. “Thank you, Olivia.”

I step closer and he meets me halfway. A rail fence is the only thing separating us, but I can feel his breath on my lips.

“You scare me,” he murmurs. “In a good way. In a ‘you make me want things again’ kind of way.”

“Like what?” My voice trembles.

He reaches out, brushing his fingers along my jaw. “This. You.”

Butterflies swoop and silence stretches. We’re so close I can smell his shampoo, feel the warmth of him in the space between us. I tilt my head and he leans in. Our lips brush when suddenly Zephyr meows. He escapes from Max’s arms and jumps down, dashing into his apartment.

We step back and Max laughs.

“I can’t believe your cat just cockblocked you,” I say, laughing with him.

His gaze meets mine again, and he steps forward with the most purpose I’ve ever seen in him. He uses his finger to tilt my chin and presses his soft, warm lips on mine in the sweetest kiss I’ve ever experienced.

“You’re the best part of my day,” he says.

His words shift something in me, and I grab his shirt, pulling him to me. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Then I kiss him again, slow and certain, like a beginning.