Seven Fridays

Sixth Friday

Jean held his umbrella steadily as large rain drops pour over the city, he was walking slowly, not eager to look to see if she was there. She wouldn't be anyway. It was storming outside and the rain didn't do any justice on his now soaked dress pants. Besides, that young woman seemed to already be with somebody. That brunette haired guy from last Friday that she seemed to have a crush on or a romantic relationship with. Jean was still feeling jealous from last time and he didn't want to admit it. He wanted to know how did a guy like that got a girl like her. And it made him furious. But he sighed softly and noticed the familiar pathway that led to that famous bench. It's not like he thought he even had a chance with her anyway. He went down that pathway that he knows so well and that bench came to sight. But...

Jean stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening at the scene in front of him. He stood in silence, looking at the bench that should've been empty. The rain grew heavy, the sounds of it hitting against the pavement and his umbrella clouded his hearing. There was that black haired woman, sitting on the usual bench, her body was hunched over on it, her forearms rested on her lap and her head face down towards the ground. The white long dress she was wearing was stuck and soaked to her skin, revealing her cream colored skin through the fabric. Jean would've been blushing at the revealing skin but he was more concerned about what was happening to her. Jean didn't hesitate this time to walk towards her. He walked to her until he stopped in front of her. The young woman noticed someone in front of her and looked up from the ground. Jean frowned at the sight of her look; her usual beautiful face was tainted by her reddish eyes and puffy bags under them. Jean could see tears still rolling down her cheeks soon disappearing and fusing with the rain drops hitting against her face. She gave Jean a confused look as he began to remove the jacket he was wearing.

"Here." He threw it around her shoulders and handed her his umbrella. She took it and was about to speak but Jean didn't wait for her reply. He put one of his hands in his pants pocket and walked away in the rain. That day, Jean arrived home soaked from head to toe.