My second contribution to the Dalton Riot 2013. Today's prompt was fluff. It's not as fluffy as I intended, but I still think it's kind of cute.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, places, or organizations/clubs mentioned within. Those belong to CP Coulter and Glee respectively.
Except for Mr. Johnson, because after Mr. Harvey died, I don't think Miss Medel would've come back.
Logan wrinkled his nose in distaste as Mr. Johnson announced the song choice for their next performance. It wasn't the worst song, but it had one of those catchy melodies that got stuck in your head for weeks and weeks.
"Let's have a couple of run throughs and then you guys can go." Mr. Johnson stood from his seat in front of the piano. "Actually, let's go try one run through of our other two in the auditorium and then we'll come back here." They stood and filed slowly out the choir room, thunder cracking in the distance.
The group of Warbler's filed into the hallway and followed Mr. Johnson toward the auditorium. Footsteps echoed from the hallway above them and a figure came flying down the staircase toward them. Several Warblers exchanged confused glances.
Julian Larson looked absolutely disheveled. His blazer was missing, not surprising as he usually got rid of it the moment official school hours ended. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his tie was loosened around his neck. His usually perfect hair looked as if he had been running his hand through it for the better part of an hour.
"What's up, Jules?" Logan asked as he walked nearer to them.
"Rain." Julian said, as if they explained everything. he didn't pause to talk as he passed them.
"I hope you get hit by lightning!" Logan called after him.
Julian paused at the door. "Sing a pretty song at my funeral." And then he was gone.
Logan smiled softly for a moment, then refocused on music.
The Warbler's scattered at the door of the academic building, sprinting for their respective houses. Logan walked slowly around the edge of the building, heading for the soccer field.
Julian sat in the middle of the field, eyes closed, hair plastered to his head, white dress shirt transparent and clinging to his wet skin. Logan shrugged off his blazer and placed it around Julian's shoulders. "You're going to get sick."
Julian gasped and started violently, relaxing when he saw that it was only Logan. "Lo. You scared me. I didn't hear you coming."
"Sorry." Logan flopped down onto the muddy grass next to his friend. Ever since he had woken from his coma, Julian had been very jumpy whenever startled. On one, thankfully rare, occasion some idiot freshman had thought it would be funny to grab him from behind while he had headphones in. Julian had punched the kid, hard, and had a full-blown panic attack, locking himself in a nearby janitors closet. It had taken a broken door, Derek, Logan, and a solid forty-five minutes to calm him down.
"I'm serious, Jules. You're going to get sick. Besides, it's wet and muddy out here."
Julian shrugged. "I like it."
Logan sighed and lay back on the grass. He'd never understood Julian's fascination with the rain. Julian turned to the side and leaned back onto Logan's stomach. They lay there in peaceful silence until well into the night when the last of the rain faded away.
Thanks for reading! Please leave me some feedback! :)
Tomorrow's prompt: Future. I'll be uploading something for that prompt tomorrow!
-Donna