Comedic

The door opened, and there he was, like no time had passed. Trevor walked in, dragging a duffel bag that left a faint trail of sand on the floor. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, somehow managing to look both relaxed and absurdly out of place.

I blinked at him from my seat at the kitchen table.

“Smells the same,” Trevor said, tossing his bag to the side. “Is that coffee?”

“Yeah.”

He walked to the cabinet, pulled down a mug—his old mug—and sat down across from me. He poured himself a cup from the pot on the table, took a sip, and winced. “Still too strong.”

“Still don’t pay rent,” I replied.

Trevor grinned, unfazed. “Miss me?”

I folded my arms. “You’re drinking my coffee.”

“Fair point.” He leaned back, propping his feet up on the chair beside him. “You got any food? All I’ve eaten for days is buffet shrimp.”

“Kitchen’s still over there,” I said, jerking my head toward the fridge.

He didn’t move. Just sat there, sipping his coffee like we’d been catching up every day for the past two years.

After a long silence, I shook my head and laughed. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Trevor raised his mug in a toast. “I try.”

Serious

The door opened quietly, and Trevor stepped inside.

He didn’t say anything at first, just dropped his duffel bag near the door and shrugged off his coat. Water dripped from the hem onto the floor. He glanced around the room, his gaze settling briefly on me before moving to the coffee pot on the counter.

“Coffee?” he asked, walking toward it.

“Help yourself,” I said, watching as he pulled a mug down from the cabinet—his old spot, still in use. He poured himself a cup and sat at the table across from me, cradling the mug in both hands.

For a while, neither of us said anything. He took a sip, winced slightly, and set the mug down. “Still make it strong.”

I shrugged. “It’s coffee.”

Trevor looked down at his hands, tracing the edge of the mug with his thumb. “Been a long time.”

I nodded, taking a sip of my own. “Yeah.”

The rain outside tapped against the windows, filling the silence. After a while, Trevor leaned back in his chair and exhaled.

“You sticking around?” I asked.

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “We’ll see.”

Thriller/Horror

The door creaked open, slow and deliberate, and Trevor stepped inside.

I didn’t move from my spot at the kitchen table, just watched as he shook the rain from his coat and let it fall to the floor. His boots left wet, muddy prints as he walked to the chair across from me and sat down.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at the coffee pot on the counter.

“Coffee?” I finally offered.

He nodded, his movements stiff, almost mechanical. I poured a mug and set it in front of him. Trevor didn’t touch it right away, just rested his hands on the table, his fingers twitching slightly.

“You’ve been gone awhile,” I said.

Trevor’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, dark and hollow. “Yeah.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a damp, crumpled piece of paper. He slid it across the table without a word.

I didn’t pick it up.

“Should I be worried?” I asked after a long silence.

Trevor smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Probably.”

The rain outside grew heavier, hammering against the windows. Trevor finally picked up the mug, his hands shaking just enough for the coffee to ripple.

“We’re safe here, right?” he asked.

The question lingered in the air. I didn’t answer.