《Raine》01 | Late

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"Baby girl, don't die on me..." She cooed lovingly to her watch, undoing the strap to clasp it close to her, a futile attempt to keep the very stupidly un-waterproof device from getting wet.

Armed with an uncharged cellphone and a watch with a lifespan a hair's breath away from dying, Raine stood along the corner of the pavement, trying to estimate the amount of time that had rolled past from the 5:30am she'd glimpsed from the wall clock when she left her apartment.

Drenched, cold, and enduring the drizzle-lookalike rain that brewed on like a relentless thunderstorm, she combed through her hair that had dampened a dark mahogany, frustrated at how it curled uninhibitedly in a blob of tangled yarn down her back.

Cars sped past in a distinct blur, leaving in its wake only a huge splash of water, half of which raining marvellously on her.

Oh, what a beautiful Monday morning it was.

Now all she needed was a guy, preferably a lanky giraffe 185cm and above, preferably blonde and had time to waste.

Because if she dared to appear, late—which she already was—at Aspr. Studios without one, she would very undoubtedly be welcomed with the dreadful greeting of Zoe blowing her top.

Raine had known Zoe long enough, and had seen her imploding at people enough times to know how poor a temper her blonde friend had, so she did not want to try her luck. Especially not after learning her friend had been working, overtime, since 7pm last night.

Eyes opened wide, she squinted past the heavy sleet of rain, straying from the road where she was supposed to hail her taxi to the lean figure that had just arrived and taken a place further down the pavement in front of her instead.

He stood, a transparent, old-fashioned-looking umbrella in his hand, all warm and dry and... tall.

Tall! She perked, her gaze stapling itself to the guy, watching as he straightened, becoming even taller, and gave a smooth wave to an incoming bumblebee yellow. The taxi turned in, parking itself in front of him.

Before her lips even tilted into an instinctive grin, her heels were already clicking through the puddles of water pooling on the crappy excuse of a pavement.

He better be blonde enough for her to forgive him for stealing her taxi-flagging territory.

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last edited: 14.04.18

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