another quickie drabble
Because it was rainy today, and I'm post-duty and crazy in the head.
.........................
It was raining. The kind of rain that felt more like snow, pouring down in sheets, covering the area in gray, making it impossible to work, even walk.
He waited for the end of the rain under a large tree, getting his long, crimson coat muddy and wet. He was patient. There were times for action. There were times for calm waiting.
From the haze of the rain he saw a figure approaching. In one quick movement he placed one hand on the sheath of his sword and the other on its handle.
"Relax, comrade," a low feminine voice called out. "It's just me."
He took the hand off the sheath but not the one on the handle.
The figure finally appeared. A female but a swordsman. Her silver hair was tied and formed a heavy rope across her back. "We've been looking all over for you. I have a parasol, just hold it for us as we go back, do you mind?"
He gave the slightest shake of his head. It was an awkward situation, but it was indeed a better one than running through the rain. He silently took up her hand, and held it for a moment, before taking the parasol into his own hands.
He inched the parasol slightly away from her. His trenchcoat was soaked. His straw-colored hair was decorated with fallen leaves and bark.
"Oh, you will do no such thing, my friend," she said. "You could see that I am soaked myself. Don't bother about getting more wet than I already am."
He stepped closer to her. They started to trudge the forest path, filled with puddles and loose soil.
"We look like a couple," she chuckled a bit.
He did not look at her. "Older woman."
"Younger man," she scoffed back, but jokingly.
He looked into the hazy distance, and took a deep breath. "It will not work."
She paused for a moment. "Did you actually have that on your mind?" she asked.
He turned to face her. He looked at her.
He returned the parasol and began to walk back to the village, alone, in the rain.
......................
EK 8 )
.........................
It was raining. The kind of rain that felt more like snow, pouring down in sheets, covering the area in gray, making it impossible to work, even walk.
He waited for the end of the rain under a large tree, getting his long, crimson coat muddy and wet. He was patient. There were times for action. There were times for calm waiting.
From the haze of the rain he saw a figure approaching. In one quick movement he placed one hand on the sheath of his sword and the other on its handle.
"Relax, comrade," a low feminine voice called out. "It's just me."
He took the hand off the sheath but not the one on the handle.
The figure finally appeared. A female but a swordsman. Her silver hair was tied and formed a heavy rope across her back. "We've been looking all over for you. I have a parasol, just hold it for us as we go back, do you mind?"
He gave the slightest shake of his head. It was an awkward situation, but it was indeed a better one than running through the rain. He silently took up her hand, and held it for a moment, before taking the parasol into his own hands.
He inched the parasol slightly away from her. His trenchcoat was soaked. His straw-colored hair was decorated with fallen leaves and bark.
"Oh, you will do no such thing, my friend," she said. "You could see that I am soaked myself. Don't bother about getting more wet than I already am."
He stepped closer to her. They started to trudge the forest path, filled with puddles and loose soil.
"We look like a couple," she chuckled a bit.
He did not look at her. "Older woman."
"Younger man," she scoffed back, but jokingly.
He looked into the hazy distance, and took a deep breath. "It will not work."
She paused for a moment. "Did you actually have that on your mind?" she asked.
He turned to face her. He looked at her.
He returned the parasol and began to walk back to the village, alone, in the rain.
......................
EK 8 )