I am still working on The AL Forgotten, it is to be updated soon, but for now I hope you enjoy this one-shot. R&R
The Decrepit
The thin rain had been coming down since yesterday morning and it did not seem to be letting up at the slightest. Not any time soon. Icy cold pelts fell in a rhythmic pitter-patter upon the city like a never-ending lullaby. He gave the turned up collar of his jacket a compulsive tug and returned his hands to its pockets. He ambled on down the lonely street.
He was soaked to the bone. His unkempt blond tresses plastered messily to his head and his clothes, drenched and heavy, clung to his lean body. His battered old sneakers made a squishy noise and coughed out water at every step. But he didn't notice any of that. Nor did he notice the damp or the cold. He shut his eyes and kept walking, at absolute ease in the rain. It was in that rain that he felt free.
Rains like that one were special and they were his favourite. He always knew whenever it came. He always had a feeling. And he was always right.
It was the sort of rain that comes unannounced and it outstays its welcome. It rolls in on an almost absent breeze with its dark grey clouds hugging the sky, casting a dull and sleepy shadow over the world. It was the sort that seems to drearily count the seconds of a seemingly never-ending day like a torturously slow death, but at the same time, there was something about that sort of rain that just soothes troubles away with a single breath.
But best of all, during rains like that, at night, it was like the entire world was asleep except him. And her.
A small smile tugged at his lips and he closed his eyes as he basked in the warmth the thought of her always brought.
In what seemed like either forever or a few seconds, in actuality only half an hour, his feet finally came to a halt and he opened his eyes. He was standing before an old decrepit warehouse near the docks. In the fifteen years he had lived in that city, he knew of no use for the warehouse. Neither did most other people. It was as though it had been built, some thirty odd years ago, for no purpose.
The old building loomed four storeys high, its faded blue walls were spotted colourfully with signatures of the local teens. The small rectangular windows were coated with grime and some were broken in. It looked elderly and desolate, as if shunned by society, left to fall into ruin alone at the end of the street, where people rarely ventured.
He took a second to let his imagination run, picturing a number of different purposes for the warehouse, but none seem to fit. So he dug his hands deeper into his pockets and shuffled round to the back of the building. He entered through the back door that looked as thought it could off come its hinges any time soon but never did. The lock on it had been broken long ago but no one had really bothered to use the old building for any illegal means for there to be any complaints for the proper authorities to replace the lock.
Wet footprints trailed behind him as he climbed up the stairs two steps at a time. It took him barely a minute to reach the top and, as excited as he was, he paused before the door that led to the rooftop. His heart pounded so hard he thought it would burst. But it didn't. He rested his palm on the cool brass old doorknob; his fingers curled around and twisted the spherical shape of metal. There was a soft click and the door came loose from the frame's hold. He pushed it outward and stepped out onto the rooftop.
The air was cooler, fresher and saltier. He took in a lungful, savouring the taste as it rejuvenates his body. Pure night sky hung like a drape above. The moon was high; nothing but the sound of rain in beautiful symphony. It was an ethereal world up there.
"I knew you'd come." And there was the voice of a goddess. Sweet and silky, almost dream-like, it greeted him instantly as the door to Earth clicked shut behind him. He could hear a smile in that voice; it eased a smile of his own onto his face.
"Hey you." She said again.
She sat in the dark of the night, her silhouette illuminated by the layer of raindrops that coated her, reflecting the dim glows of the moon and streetlights; almost literally she was shining. She sat on an old wooden bench facing the sea, with her knees brought to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. The hood of her jacket was pulled halfway over her head. She was also drenched and enjoying it. He smiled at the sight.
He sauntered across the rooftop in steady steps, as if in respect for the symphony; she watched as he wordlessly sat down beside her and then he grinned, feeling the magic of her presence beside him work, charming the invisible locks in his jaw and on his mouth, rendering him voluble and wanting to talk.
"Hey." He said shyly and she chuckled; the air became even lighter, his grin even wider. How he had missed her. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Me too." She smiled and then playfully frowned and pouted, "But you're late."
He leaned forward and looked to the horizon, studying the shade of the sky. "It'll be dawn in about an hour." He turned to her, "So we haven't got much time. How've you been?"
"I've been great. I'm doing pretty well in school, settled that ugly rivalry too. At home the three of us are getting along a lot better than before; we can actually go for three days straight without a fight. So I'd say we're improving."
"That's good to hear."
"And you, Mr Superstar? I caught your name in the paper again a fortnight ago." She teased and playfully elbowed him in the side. "Girls must be chasing in rabid mobs after you. Even the girls in my school talk about you. And I don't think you'd want to know what they said." She scrunched her nose at the thought. At the same thought he flushed a beet red that was not so visible in the dim lighting but she noticed it all the same and giggled, "Look at you; you're the same colour as my hair."
"Alright, stop teasing me. Yes girls have been…well there are actually some guys too. They stalk me in school, some of them anyways. Watch me during practice, try to bump into me in the corridors, sit with me during lunch. And they're part of…my fan club." He said the last part with dislike.
"You have your own personal fan club?" she asked, her eyes wide and her mouth agape ready to laugh.
"Yeah." He replied reluctantly but laughed nevertheless. "Others stuff letters into my bag or buy me things. The persistent ones are a very difficult bunch." Then he paused with a somewhat traumatized look on his face. "And Valentine's Day…"
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I received tons of the weirdest things in the form of the usual chocolates, sweets, cards, you know the like." She nodded eagerly, so he continued, "The cards I, I put them aside until the end of the day when I'd decide what to do with them. The sweets and chocolates I gave out to the guys in the locker room. Everyone got a sugar rush. Our teachers were extremely pleased at our unusual burst of energy and enthusiasm during class. Then they found out about our little sugar feast in the locker room when we seemed to be brain-dead near the end of the day and all they could accuse us of was eating in the locker room and littering. So we had to spend some time after school the next day cleaning it."
Her airy laughter sobered up when he continued his story with softness, a fondness rather, in his voice. "But the only thing that I kept was this card I'd received in the mail that morning. It had a broken heart on the cover and inside it simply read 'Smile'." he looked her in the eye and asked, "That was you, wasn't it?"
Her surprised reaction confirmed it and he felt his heart swell, his insides grow warmer and cooler at the same time.
"How'd you know?" she asked, sounding a little in awe.
He shrugged, still smiling, "I think I can always tell if it's you. I get this feeling I can't exactly describe, but it felt like when we first met those months back. Do you remember that night?"
She snorted in mock arrogance and wrapped her arms around her knees tighter. "Of course I do. I had hit you on the head with that wooden plank over there." She pointed to a sturdy plank of wood propped up against the empty crates that stacked near the door to Earth. "So you blacked out and woke up with a concussion when you read my card?"
"Woke up with a concussion and a rather nasty gash across the side of my head you mean." He corrected with his eyes narrowed into slits, which only lasted a few of seconds because his heart had melted at the sight of her apologetic smile. He shook his head and glanced at the horizon where red hues had begun to spread across the purple sky. "No, I meant when we talked afterwards, after I had to convince you I was harmless. It had felt so easy; it still does, it's just so natural to talk to you…like an uncanny trust between strangers."
She got up from the bench and went over to lean against the parapet. "So we're strangers?"
"Well," he began, getting up and joining her, "you know my name, but I don't know yours. You still won't give it to me."
She reached out shyly and placed her hands over his and looked up at him; he stood half a head taller. "And what would you do with my name?"
He manoeuvred his own hands so that he could intertwine his fingers with hers. "I'll say it every time I think of you."
"And how often would that be?"
"Every three minutes." He said in a joking as-a-matter-of-fact manner. She laughed.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, it is so. I'll spend the first minute thinking of you, and the next two wondering where you are, how you're doing, what you are doing, when will I get to see you next and what your name is." He said with an accomplished grin on his face. "So you see, I am constantly thinking of you."
"Wow. I feel sorry for those girls–"
"And guys." He added with some consideration.
"And guys in your fan club."
"Well you should." He pulled her closer and put on a thoughtful frown. "And you should also run away when you them on the streets. They'll probably mug you."
"I don't think they'd be that angry, would they?"
"I don't know." He leaned down till they were just an inch apart, his voice a whisper. "You are the first girl I think I'm falling for."
She grinned and closed the gap between them. They stood locked in an embrace and a kiss in the thin rain that had been coming down like a masked symphony. The first rays of sunlight shot over the horizon and shone on them. She pulled away enthralled. In a murmur against his lips she told him her name, making him smile, say her name for the first time and kiss her again.
Any guesses who they might be?