A/N: Hi. So I've been having a little trouble lately. My depression has flared up pretty badly but I think I'm back on the upswing. I've got a few off days next week so hopefully I'll be able to update my stories. Anyway, this is just something I came up with because it's been really rainy lately.
Athens, Georgia 2015
University of Georgia
The lights in the library flickered twice before they finally went out. The backup generator kicked in quickly and the dim lights sparsely lining the walls set the room aglow almost as if it were candlelit. Without the hum of a hundred computers and the chatter of students, the severity of the storm raging outside became much easier to hear. Olivia looked up from the table where she had spread out her things to the window. Lightning streaked the sky as rain fell at a hard, steady pace. The city's tornado siren blared and made her ears ring. She quickly stuffed her things into her backpack, wishing she'd stayed in the dorm instead of coming to the library to work on her sketches, but she never got any work done in her apartment, always distracting herself with something or another, and the library was deserted after 10.
The librarian appeared in the middle of the room. "That was a warning siren. Everyone needs to move to the bottom floor immediately."
The dozen students on the library's third floor, the quiet study area, quickly shuffled to the stairs. Olivia frowned as walked over to the elevator and pressed the button. Someone tapped her shoulder just as it dinged and she turned to find a tall guy in a dark blue t-shirt looking down at her. "The backup generator doesn't power the elevators. Too much of a risk in a tornado."
Olivia was surprised. "I didn't know that. I've never been in a tornado."
He led her to the stairs. "Where are you from?"
"Arizona," she replied. "I've never seen so much rain."
"Well welcome to Georgia. We actually have two tornado seasons a year," he replied.
"What's a tornado season?"
He shrugged his broad shoulders. "It's the time of year—right before summer and right before winter—when the weather is the most volatile around here. Too many air pressure changes, too much dry weather. It's the perfect combination for a tornado."
Olivia nodded as they reached the bottom floor. Students filled the areas farthest from the windows, talking amongst themselves or continuing their work. Olivia followed the tall boy to a corner and sat on the floor next to him. She smiled as she extended her hand. "I'm Olivia."
He shook it with a smile. "I'm Fitz."
Olivia pulled her knees to her chest, wondering how bad the storm was going to get as she listened to the thunder boom above them. "So how often does this happen?"
Fitz shrugged. "Depends. Some years we don't even get a full twister, just a lot of rain. Other years we get a dozen in one month. You get used to it."
The siren blared again and Olivia looked around, trying to see out the windows on the other side of the library. She looked back at Fitz. He was frowning. "Two sirens means there's a tornado."
"What do we do?" Her eyes were wide with fear behind her large tortoiseshell rectangular glasses.
"We sit tight. This building is pretty sturdy so it couldn't do too much damage unless it's a big one." He ran his hand through his dark curls. Olivia noted how they waved around his strong jaw, lending his face a sweetness that made him seem both man and child at once.
She set her wide eyes on him. "I'm scared."
A loud electrical buzz filled the room before the lights brightened then extinguished, signaling that the backup generator had failed. Olivia could still make out Fitz's features in the darkness as he looked down at the weather app on his phone, lightly scratching his scruffy beard. He looked up at her. "There are a few tornados but none of them have touched down."
"Is that good?" she asked.
"Somewhat. Tornados do the most damage when they hit the ground."
There was another boom of thunder that made the widows shake and Olivia jumped, her shoulder bumping Fitz's. "I'm sorry."
He wrapped his arm around her thin shoulders. "Everything's okay. We're on the ground floor as far away from the windows as possible. We're as safe as we can be."
"I'm still scared." There was another boom of thunder and she squeaked, burying her face in his chest. She had to admit it was a comfort to shroud herself in his warm embrace. Fitz pulled her closer, settling her between his legs, and wrapped his arms around her completely.
He rested his chin on the top of her head. "You're okay. I've got you."
A gust of wind rattled the windows and Olivia cuddled closer. "When will it be over?"
He kissed the crown of her head, noting that she smelled incredible, like mint and lilies. "It won't be too long, I promise."
The rain continued to pelt the roof, the wind howling loudly enough to be heard through the library's brick walls. Hours passed, and one siren after another blared, but Fitz never let her go. He talked to her endlessly to distract her. Olivia had never been so terrified or simultaneously felt so safe in her life. She turned to look at him with a smile when his breathing evened out, surprised to find him sleeping. She tapped his knee as his eyes fluttered open. "I can't believe you can sleep through this."
He yawned and shrugged, sitting up off the wall behind them. "Guess I'm just used to it."
"Will you stay awake and talk to me more?" She felt small and needy, but his voice had soothed her.
"What do you wanna talk about?" He leaned his chin on the top of her head. "The bank robberies or the insider trading?"
Olivia laughed softly. "What's your major?"
"Marketing," he replied, wondering if it would be inappropriate to play with her cotton candy afro. Her soft curls smelled of something fruity and floral that made him inhale deeply each time a tuft brushed his chin. "What's yours?"
"Illustration with a minor in graphic design." He noted the shyness of her answer, and wondered about the reason behind it.
Fitz smiled. "That's cool. How'd you get into that?"
He was surprised at how she opened up with a little prodding. Her eyes danced as she talked, and talked, and talked, her little voice chirpy and lilting. She told him about how her parents had hoped she would be a nurse like her mother but had their dreams shattered when she fainted the first time she drew blood. They were even more nonplussed when she proclaimed her dream to be a photographer, turning down their suggestion to attend law school. She told him that she had stumbled upon her talent for drawing and was only taking the art classes at her advisor's insistence. Hours passed quickly, the storm almost forgotten, as he soaked up everything she said. He was so enraptured in watching her mouth move that he almost didn't realize she'd stopped talking.
"I'm sorry. I've been monopolizing the conversation completely. You must be bored."
Fitz shook his head. "Oh no. Please talk as much as you want. I'm more than happy to listen. Do you have any of your work with you?"
Olivia began digging through her backpack and produced her sketchpad. "This isn't my best work—that never leaves my room—but I think it's funny. Although I should tell you I have a really dry sense of humor."
Fitz flipped through the pad, using his phone's flashlight to see, and found himself laughing at her comics. "You know what these remind me of? Do you remember Daria?"
She grinned. "Yes! I love that show! I was 8 when MTV started showing reruns. I used to stay up so late to watch it."
"The girl who used to babysit me watched it nonstop. I feel like it's responsible for my overdeveloped sense of cynicism."
"Daria made me the most sarcastic third grader on the planet. I was so excited when I found out I needed glasses." She pulled out her own phone and quickly found the old picture of her in which she wore a pair of round black-framed glasses. "I was 11 and thought I was the coolest thing on the planet, especially since no one my age got the references. I thought it meant I was too mature for my crowd."
Fitz smiled at the picture. "I saw The Breakfast Club when I was 12 and I convinced myself I could be grunge punk like Bender. I begged my mom for a pair of Doc Martens that she refused to buy because apparently skinheads wore them at one point. Fortunately, my dad bought my guilt trip and got me some. And my uncle was grunge in the 90's so I took all his old clothes and bought a few Black Sabbath albums. I was as cool as I'll ever be that summer."
Olivia laughed. "I was as cool as I'll ever be freshman year of high school. I saw Clueless for the first time and turned myself in Cher. The matchy-matchy two-piece sets, the knee socks, the fuzzy pen. I said "ugh" and "as if" so much that my mom started this aversion therapy thing where she would pinch me each time I did it."
xxxxx
"So do you live on campus?" Fitz asked when the lights finally came back on.
"I have an apartment a few blocks away," Olivia answered as she stood.
"Can I walk you home?"
Olivia smiled shyly, biting her bottom lip. "Yeah."
Olivia was surprised to see it was morning when they left the library. She looked at her phone. It was almost 8 in the morning. She remembered nodding off around 3 am with Fitz's sleepy voice in her ear, but she didn't think they'd been asleep so long. Olivia's hand brushed Fitz's as they crossed the street and she was surprised when he took it in his, interlacing their fingers.
She led him to her apartment the long way, wanting to spend just a little more time with him. He told her about southern things, catching fireflies in a field and going night fishing, smiling the whole time. They stopped for coffee at her favorite place, a tiny coffee shop seemingly stuck in the 90's with its beanbag chairs and old school music. She stretched herself across a beanbag chair, laughing at his stories while they waited for their coffee. He took her hand again when they left and she looked up at him with a small smile that he studied intently so he'd never forget it. He hoped the walk took forever, or maybe just a bit longer, so he didn't have to leave her just yet. But ten minutes later, they were in her building, ascending the steps. He didn't release her hand until they reached apartment 308.
"So can we do this again?" he asked as she leaned back against her door, looking up at him.
That small smile played on her lips and she nodded. "If I can make one request, let's do it on a night without severe weather."
"Well if you give me your number, I can call you every day with the weather report." He smiled shyly, still nervous despite spending hours with her.
"Very smooth." She opened her backpack and retrieved her sketchpad. She opened it, flipping to the last used page and scribbled her number on the bottom corner. She pulled the page out and handed it to him. Fitz was surprised to see that it was a sketch of himself. "I drew this of you in the coffee shop. You didn't even notice."
He self-consciously reached for the knot of hair atop his head. "Is this really what I look like?"
"What do you think you look like?"
"Not this. Damn, I'm handsome," he joked.
Olivia laughed. "Well, according to my psych course, we actually have no idea what we look like."
"Really?"
"All we ever see are pictures and reflections, which are entirely subjective, so any image we have of ourselves is skewed. Not to mention our own insecurities and other people's opinions color our perception. The theory is that if you saw yourself in person, you wouldn't recognize yourself."
"That's incredible." He smiled. "Just in case you didn't know, you're beautiful."
"Thank you." Olivia smiled, her cheeks warming. Fitz stepped closer, towering over her in a gentle friendly manner that made her feel safe, and Olivia looked up at him. "What are you doing? Are you gonna kiss me?"
"I was thinking about it." He touched her neck, running his thumb over the soft hollow, and leaned in to press his lips to hers.
A/N: Don't forget to review! XOXOXO