Mocha Latte
-Kitty
Chapter 3: Rainy Afternoon
The air was wet and the sky was grey and he didn't move save for a flick of an ear when the apartment's owner returned. She broke the silence around him in a minor cacophony of crackling bags, stumbling as she struggled out of her shoes.
"You're up!" She said with mild surprise, "Jeez you guys heal fast."
She immediately stepped up to him and he back pedaled quickly, his face clearly displeased with her proximity. If she was aware of his discomfort, she ignored it studiously and focused intently on the bandaging around his stomach.
"Hmm," she muttered to herself, "I guess you'll live."
She whisked around and began to unpack her bags, taking her various purchases to their appropriate places. A rumble of thunder rippled through the air and gave her pause. She lifted her eyes to the window, observing the dark grey clouds and heavy atmosphere outside.
"You feeling up for a walk in the rain?" She asked brightly. She obviously didn't believe in waiting for responses to her questions, he concluded, as she immediately began digging around the room, eventually pulling a crinkling rain poncho out of nowhere and holding it up to him.
"That should fit," she said, seemingly to herself. "I'm not sure about shoes though… ah!"
Triumphantly, she turned from the storage bin near her front door, holding up a pair of flip flops that looked like they could fit him. He sniffed with disgust, his ears laid back, a scowl growing on his face. The woman didn't miss a beat, pulling out a large, worn out sweater and handing it to him.
"Here," she said, "Some fresh air will feel so nice."
And then she was off again, this time into the kitchen, a clatter of dishes and kitchenware echoing out of the small, cramped space. The rickety electric kettle was set to boil and after a few minutes, the steaming water was poured out into a thermos and she was turning back to him. He hadn't moved an inch, holding the old sweater out in front of him with obvious distaste. She paused, assessing his body language before huffing.
"Well, be that way if you want," she said, brushing off his cold attitude, "but I'd be going bonkers if I were cooped up inside all day."
Stuffing her bottle into a small backpack, she pulled out a pair of brightly colored rain boots and a shiny raincoat, opening up the door and glancing back at him one more time.
"Last chance," she said, "You're call."
She paused this time, a breath or two longer than she had previously. It was as if she knew he was vacillating in his decision to be resolutely displeased with his host. Finally, the scowl deepened on his face as he felt his desires caving in to her offer, it would be good to breath the fresh air.
The flip flops though, were left behind, laying dejectedly in a corner as the door closed and the room was enveloped in darkness.
…
The girl's moan turned into a high pitched squeak as she stretched her hands above her head before shaking herself like dog and stepping out under the dark grey sky. It was just beginning to drizzle, the shy water droplets tickling his skin as he followed silently, moving like a shadow behind her. She led the way with confidence, hardly looking back to see if he was even there, humming softly to herself, enjoying the wetness in the air. He could leave now, bolt. He could start running and there was nothing she could do to stop him. He glanced around, seriously contemplating it, befuddled with himself that he didn't immediately seize the opportunity to escape.
A fat raindrop landed on his nose, cold and shocking against his skin. Shortly after, another landed on the plastic of the poncho hood, and then another, stamping out a staccato rhythm that somehow seemed to match the tune the woman in front of him was humming. The space between raindrops shrank and suddenly, they were in the midst of a downpour. In front of him, a squeal erupted that rang painfully in his ears and she took off running.
"Come on!" She urged him. They turned a corner and he found himself standing at the edge of small neighborhood park, a wide, study wooden structure shelving them from the rain. The woman had slipped out of her backpack and set it down on one of the picnic tables, and then turned to beam at him, her smile bright and her cheeks flushed.
"Sorry!" She exclaimed breathlessly, "Probably shouldn't have made you run with those wounds. How are you feeling?"
"... I'll live," he muttered, the words slipping out before he even realized he'd spoken. He was surprised that he responded but the woman just breathed with relief then stepped back out from under the roof. And now he was watching her, frown furrowing over his eyes again. She flapped her arms, giggling maniacally in the rain, the hood of her jacket falling back so that water began streaming down her face from her drenched hair. And then, something amazing happened.
A shimmer in the air around her, at first he thought nothing of it. But then the shimmer grew more defined and became a shape. A shape with a face. The tattered and broken body of a boy, a dead boy, who materialized and watched the young woman in her exhilaration and joy over the late autumn shower. At first, he reacted protectively, ready to move in between this potential threat and the carefree woman. And then he remembered that he didn't care about her, would prefer that she got hurt even, so he could be free to run off and carry on with his life. And while he was busy internally berating himself for his inexplicable sudden urge to defend this peculiar young woman, she turned to the ghost child, extending a hand to the bloody figure and welcoming the boy to play in the rain with her.
And now he stood, absolutely and completely dumbfounded, mouth hanging open, as more and more ghost children joined in. Even the spirit of the nearby oak tree emerged from its trunk to rejoice in the gift of rain. And then, her brown eyes turned to lock onto his, captivating him. And then a slender, open hand gestured toward him, inviting him to join them. And for a moment, his muscles moved to accept, magnetically drawn to the purity of her joy. And then he remembered himself and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to glare at her despite his continued shock over the entire situation. And again, she didn't press the issue, just shrugged and continued to dance and splash in the empty playground, surrounded by the translucent shapes of children in various stages of dismemberment, and a leafy, alien spirit of the oak tree.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there, sulkily watching the fun while he continued to pass up his chance at freedom. Eventually, she stood still, breathless and laughing, then waved goodbye to the children before turning toward him, returning to the shelter, her jacket useless as she appeared to be completely soaked through underneath it. She was panting, her eyes gleaming and her face flushed. The smile across her face stretched from ear to ear and she laughed at him.
"You having fun standing there sulking?" She asked jovially. He glowered at her, releasing a quiet growl under his breath. There might be a little bit of regret in those golden eyes. She laughed again and sat herself down on top of the picnic table, peeling off her jacket and shirt before rummaging into her bag. Astonished by her lack of modesty, he quickly looked away, frowning at the playground slide while he listened to her pull out something, shuffling around to the backdrop of raindrops on the wooden roof. Finally, she sighed and he glanced back at her. In a new, warm looking sweater, she gestured to him, patting beside her on the table. She had her thermos out and two steaming cups poured, obviously expecting him to join her.
He stood stiffly for a second, two seconds, then shifted begrudgingly, sidling over to seat himself at the very edge of the table, slouching low with hunched shoulders. The sweet, dark smell of chocolate hit his nose and he glanced over at the cup now being held out to him.
"Mocha latte," she said brightly, "Best on rainy days."
His hands moved on their own, accepting the beverage carefully, before turning away from her again. Thunder rolled in the distance and the rain began to fall even more heavily, surrounding them in a blanket of white noise. A flash ripped across the sky and the girl beside him looked up as far as she could from under the park structure.
"Storm's getting closer," she muttered to herself. The park was situated on a hill and the view, while limited in between two very tall apartment buildings, opened up to overlook the rest of the city and the next time thunder rumbled above them, the girl sat up straighter, gazing eagerly into the distance until a streak of lightning sliced a jagged line through the sky. She gasped in delight, shivering as she stroked the rim of her cup before lifting it up to her face to take a slow, long sip. Then she sighed, her eyes wide and eager as she continue to watch for lightning.
He glanced down at the cup in his hands. He glanced at the city below them, grey and dreary and cold. He glanced at the woman beside him, completely incomprehensible in her excitement and happiness over a the thunderstorm around them. He rolled his eyes, huffed a sigh, and brought the beverage to his lips, taking a tentative, tiny taste.
The sweet, dark flavor washed over his tongue and settled over him like blanket. It embraced him, seemed to protect him. The air around him was wet and chilly but he was warm, nursing the hot drink in his hands, sharing a moment with a woman he didn't know.
A/N: anything hot and chocolaty is the best on rainy days :D
