He didn't know what drew him to venture out today. Roderich didn't like going out often, if at all. His walks were rather slow and left him winded. That should've been a sign for him to get out more, but he didn't normally. Unlike today.

Maybe it was this sudden craving for coffee, even though the drink was usually below his standards. Tea was his preferred beverage-classic, light, and soothing. Coffee was more like the weather today-harsh, bitter, and rough. But maybe he wanted something to fit the mood, he thought, as he wrapped his coat around himself tighter and pushed the glass door open to the café on the corner. Or maybe it was a contrary day.

He might as well stick with a classic, if he was going to branch out into coffee just for today. Trying new things really weren't his forté, but he did go inside a café of all places. So, he ordered café au lait. Settling himself into a seat, he stared outside his window and stared, little spots forming on the sidewalk. A light tapping began on the glass. Soon, he could hear it getting louder, and little streams of water ran down the windows. His shoulders slumped. Of course it would start to rain. This is why he didn't go out.

The order arrived, and he thanked the barista before staring at his drink. It couldn't be too bad, right? It was just half coffee, half milk; Roderich usually drank his tea with milk and more sugar than he'd like to admit. "Just take it," he muttered to himself, "You spent your money on it already."

As the bitter taste settled in his mouth, his lips formed a tight line. "It isn't as good as tea after all, but it will have to do," he thought. Stirring the hot liquid in the cup, he lost his gaze in the grey scene outside. The rain came down lighter than normal; there was no rumble of threatening thunder in the distance yet-just a faint buzz, so humdrum like his life, which proceeded without much variation.

He could name it all precisely-get up at 6:00 exactly, make a cup of tea, cut a slice of bread, and spread strawberry (never grape) jam on it. Take a shower, get dressed, and go to classes at the university. After that, he would do his shifts in the local library, where it was quiet, and he didn't have to deal with too many idiots (although that weird white-haired boy with the red eyes had it out for him and probably swore to annoy him constantly).

Come home, shut himself in his room for two hours to do homework (music theory had been especially hard recently), come out and make a simple dinner. Roderich refused to even consider fast food; he was much more dignified than that and would not stoop to the level of such fattening foods. Plus, he took pride in his cooking. After dinner, he would let himself indulge in some pastry he had on hand. This was a staple-he always had some cake in his fridge-and if he didn't, he'd make some.

Before he went to bed at 10:30 (or 12:00 on weekends-wasn't he so daring to stay up on weekends?), he would take out his current pride and joy-a Yamaha electric keyboard, with plug-in pedals. He would rehearse with it, playing whatever piece he was working on (so far, it was a Mozart piece, but he was almost done and thinking about a Rachmaninoff song). It was nowhere as nice as a real piano, but it was as close as he could get, with his limited space and money. And then off to bed it would be, with his cheap, frayed, striped pajamas (or occasionally, the nice ones with the music notes; he only wore those when felt like indulging himself) and white nightcap. This would repeat over and over again, with little change.

It wasn't that he didn't like change. There would be days where he woke up earlier to do homework, or maybe he would wear his music notes pajamas more than twice every two weeks. He got really bold when he stayed up until 1:00 on weekends, watching old 90's reruns. There were those weeks when he did his laundry on Thursday instead of Wednesday, and when he baked more than once a week-or heaven forbid, spent his time playing on the keyboard on his cleaning day (Sunday). And he didn't think his life was boring. He liked taking comfort in what he knew and having everything be in its place. It was nice to know that something in his life would stay relatively stable. But then again, it was just what Roderich had always known. How to be routine.

But, routine was repeating the same thing. Over. And. Over. Again. Each and every day. It was what he knew and what he liked, because it was safe. But there would be those times where his legs would ache from sitting and doing homework or playing the keyboard for too long, or when he would be out getting groceries, and he'd see people riding bikes in the park-something he had not done since he was little. When was the last time he really got out and did something special for once, not doing the same things repeatedly?

...he honestly couldn't even remember the last time he went outside just for a walk.

Outside, the rain beat on the windows harder, like mini-gunshots, many rivulets racing down the glass. And suddenly, there was a crack of lightning, followed by the inevitable thunder boom. Well, he tried to break the routine today, tried to seize the day (as his "friend" Vash called it)... and this was how it ended up. He sighed, sipping at his bitter coffee, and his fingers started to tap on the table, like they were playing the piano. Maybe he was better off just doing what he normally did.

At any rate, he had two options: either wait out the rain and finish his coffee (which he had learned his lesson about-coffee did not work for him), or make a quick run home and risk getting soaked. The first option sounded better right now-he was in no shape to run, and he certainly didn't want to deal with wet clothes. But as he came to this conclusion, the lights shut off, and there were screams in the darkness. The manager tried to calm the people, but Roderich shook his head. So much for staying...

Standing up and getting his coat, he tried not to bump into anything as he felt his way to the garbage can and threw out his coffee. The door didn't seem too far away. As he made his way to the door, though, someone pushed him, and he grabbed the handle for support. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"It's all right." He took the hand offered to him. In the dim light, he could barely make out long hair and soft features on the woman's face. She tried to offer him a friendly smile.

"Hey... aren't you that guy in 6C who plays the piano?"

"Keyboard," he corrected, "As if anyone could get a piano..." He squinted his eyes. "Why? Do you live in Parkside too, on 7th street?"

"Yes, I've lived there for a while..."

"That's... nice." Roderich didn't know what else to say to this mysterious girl. He could've asked her for her name, or what apartment she lived in, or even ask her how she found herself here, like him, but he never went out of his way to ask anyone this. And when it was a person of the opposite gender, he shut down even more, as he barely had any experience talking with women outside of his family (and even then...) The conversation stopped, and their silence faded into the general chatter of a slightly panicked café. He coughed, turning the handle. "I should really get going."

"You're leaving? In this weather?" her eyes widened. "You don't have an umbrella, it's pouring outside, and there's thunder and lighting too! Are you sure about that? You're going to be in for a rough run."

Violet eyes scanned the sky again. The woman was right... what was he doing? It would be less dangerous and cumbersome to just wait.

Before he could say that, though, she jumped back in. "Well, if you're going, then I am too! Um, if that's all right with you..."

"H-huh? What do you mean!"

She smiled at him, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "You seem like a pretty adventurous guy, who's not afraid to shake things up. I mean, you have to be pretty brave to go out in that weather." Likes to shake things up... Hmph. If only she knew how I really was... "Anyways, I like people like that. A little bit out-there and cool. Besides, I wanted to go back, too, and since we're both going to the same place, may I come with you?"

"I-I guess..." He couldn't back out now. Someone just called him cool. A woman. A woman who was kind of attractive. He could pretend to be "adventurous" for an afternoon. Yeah. Just this once. Right?

"Okay! Now... do you have a plan as to how we're going to do this, without drowning in the rain? I don't have an umbrella, either."

"Um, uh..." he swallowed hard, looking at his hands, looking everywhere as if the answer would come out of thin air. What was he supposed to do? He didn't actually think he would get this far! His arms fell to his sides and smacked his large overcoat.

Wait. Large overcoat. Large enough to cover the both of them? No. But if they held it up together...

Shrugging off the worn coat, he held it out to her. "Here. Maybe if we hold this over our heads, it will give us some protection from the rain?" She looked at it skeptically, but shrugged and said, "It's the best idea we've got. Are you ready to go?"

"Y-yeah." Was he really doing this? Running in the rain? With a stranger? Running?! This was completely new and dangerous and-

Different.

And wasn't he the one who wanted to change his life a little, do something new?

He took a deep breath. Opened the door. Looked at the woman, who was looking back with a nervous smile.

It was time to seize the day.

"Let's go."

If there was ever a storm to rival the one from Noah's time, this would've been it.

They ran as fast as they could, as the rain poured down in curtains and streams and buckets galore. The coat offered them little protection. Everything was a wet blur, cold and slippery and squishy and heavy. Their shoes kicked up waves when they ran into puddles, splashing the water into their shoes and making more puddles in their shoes that they couldn't outrun (thank goodness he had thought to wear his old sneakers, heaven forbid if these were his nice leather shoes). He stumbled and she stumbled along with him, and their clothes dragged them down and made them run a little slower with each step. It was a run that could turn many people away from rainstorms and running forever.

It may have been wet and cold and completely insane, but Roderich was still smiling all the way-at least he wasn't alone, at least she could laugh at the silliness, and if she could, so could he. They drank the fresh rainwater, hopped into the lake-puddles, twirled under the old coat beneath a curtain of rain, screamed together when cars rushed by and tried to splash them, breathed harder than they could've thought while they were running, shouted unintelligible things that were lost in the thunderclaps; they complained and danced and cried and ran and jumped, and it was a choppy and out-of-focus moment, like an energetic concerto movement, but damn it all to hell, it was dangerous, it was bold, and despite the greys of the clouds, it was colorful-the electrifying crack of white-hot lightning, her spring green eyes when she laughed, the yellow taxis and red sports cars whizzing by, his own violet-blur eyes becoming brighter as the gray shade of safe routine was broken. It was a rainbow rush that ran through his bloodstream and he felt alive and one with everything.

And all the while, he could almost feel her, this strange woman that he had just met. Sharing a raincoat and running with her had lowered all his logical barriers and now he didn't overthink it when she flashed him a grin, just here and there, when she laughed at him for jumping in the puddles, when she held his hand a little too tightly and a little too long to pull him when he stumbled, when she chattered about the news and college and her crappy co-worker between her heavy breaths (compared to his ragged breathing, which sounded like a dying man), or when she tried to wipe off some of the rain off his clothing to dry him, after they ran into the apartment building. By no means was it really romantic, running through the rain, but he didn't want to overthink it, and he just wanted it to leave it as, "Maybe she'll actually talk to me after this."

"Heh..." she panted, as they trudged up the stairs, "that was... kinda fun... even if we... got soaked." She tightened her hold on Roderich (as he was so out of breath that he was half leaning on her) and pulled them up slowly. "But let's not do that again... I don't think my heels can take it."

"Same... with my... lungs," he wheezed, and she chuckled before coughing. They had reached the 4th floor and had two more flights of stairs to go, but they stopped to catch their breath. He took this time to assess themselves: indeed, they were soaked to the bone, and they would more than likely catch a cold, as well as huge dry cleaning bills. Inwardly, he groaned; he'd have to put in overtime at the library to make up for the money and medicine that he would need, and he'd really have to exercise more, and possibly take time off... He anticipated that all this would happen, and he did it anyways. Everything would be shaken up now. But was it worth it?

A tug at his hand, and that same sideways grin he had grown to appreciate, turned his face warm and pulled his lips into a small smile.

"Well... this is it. Thanks for running home with me... oh, I'm afraid I never caught your name?"

"It's Roderich... a-and what about you?"

"Elizaveta. It was nice talking to you! I look forward to hearing more music through these walls, heh."

"Oh... uh, um, p-please wait, ah, um..." he said suddenly, with a hard swallow and shaking hands," I, uh, heh, I-I mean, you're welcome t-to come a-and listen... if you'd like! Y-you don't have to, I wouldn't want to impose on you, b-but I would like to extend an invitation, i-if you would be willing to accept-"

"Roderich," she said, "I would love to come over. And you can bet that I'll be dropping by soon. See you later!"

He closed the door quickly, turned around, and slid down to the ground. His lungs were working overtime, his heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and it wasn't because he had just run, either... I have to clean this place up, and practice that piece one more time-but what if she doesn't like Rachmaninoff, should I practice something else, what do I even say to her, what if she thinks I'm boring, what did I just get myself into?!

Oh, yes. This was definitely worth it-breaking routine and seizing the day.

[Author's Note] Roddy, why are you so awkward when it comes to girls...? *shakes head* This was a birthday gift for my lovely friend Maria-my fellow fangirl, fanfic writer, and overall, a wonderfully amazing person. She never fails to cheer me up with her bubbliness and her humor, and she's a really great conversationalist (as well as forgiving, when I forget to reply... or just forget things in general OTL). So happy birthday!

OR, this would've been her birthday present, if I had better planning, more motivation/inspiration, and better time management skills... but I have neither of those. So I'm publishing this... 4 months after her birthday... So I guess this is like a birthday, Christmas, and Valentine present combined? Sorry, Maria... hehe. I love you lots!

I'm sorry this isn't the best-I haven't written (seriously) in months, and I worked on this in different intervals, which is why the style keeps switching back and forth. The beginning was so much better than the ending... (which was drawn out and lackluster and just yeah I suck at endings) And plot? What's a plot? I knoweth not of this thing you call a... plot. But anyways. I hope you enjoy anyways~