𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 ❘❘ 𝒌.𝒕𝒉

4- 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒚

𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 15𝒕𝒉٫ 3:45 𝒑𝒎

Now I saw him when it rained and when the sky was cloudy. Today we met at the park again. Not intentionally, but unintentionally.

He showed me some more poetry.

That look of that moment, that time my heart that missed felt like it was a shame

I regret it, hoping that there will be that moment again

"What is this about?"

"The other day, I let my work get in the way of my daughter. I understand her adolescence and youth, but at that time I felt my instincts get in the way and I pushed her aside when she needed me. She offered me to play jumping jacks with her," his eyes fell to the ground. "I got frustrated and barked at her. I regret that moment and wish to apologize to her."

"Then why don't you?" I urged. He smiled at me, like I was blind. "Miss, I don't believe you've ever handled a child before..."

"Well, I may have not, but I believe that you should apologize. If you keep ignoring it, she may resent you and never invite you to games again."

"Never again. That's a new perspective and a horrifying thing to think of never playing games again." He said, eyes widening. "I'll keep that in mind when I'm with her again."

"I was just wondering," he hummed in response, indicating for me to go on. "What kind of novels do you read?"

"Novels?" He repeated. I nodded. "I like a lot of novels, but my favorites happen to be classics. Are you asking this question, miss, because I informed you last time we spoke that I was a writer?"

"Yes," I said. "And no. I would like to know where you get your inspiration from. Your writing is beautiful."

"Really? No one has ever said that before. I accept your compliment." He declared. He's so strange, I thought. But I was speaking the truth. His writing was something I have never experienced before, a completely different taste.

"What's your favorite book then?"

"Miss, you clearly cannot ask a book worm and certainly not a writer what their favorite book is. I'm afraid they have too many."

"Any book then." I could feel my upper lip trudge upwards into a tiny smile as I could not help his ridiculousness. His long fingers went up to his chin, stroking it in thought.

"Have you read Rebecca?" He asked. "I've seen the film..." I admitted sheepishly, and the next thing I knew, his hand was balled into a fist and hitting the top of my head.

"Fool!" He exclaimed, like he was some character in a book who was shaming on a lesser character. "You always must read the book before the movie! It's much better. I must admit, Alfred Hitchcock's films are impressive, I'm friends with a script writer who won't shut up about him, but alas, what came first? The book."

"Is it really that good?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Of course it is! Why would I be recommending it?" He scoffed. "I'm afraid, miss, that our acquaintanceship can't continue onwards, knowing that you've 'seen the film' and not bothered to take a look at a respectable piece of literature I consider to be the best-"

"Okay, okay! I'll read the book!" I cut him off, mentally reminding myself never to speak to him again about seeing films before the book. "That's the spirit!" He hopped up from his sitting position. "And you can borrow my copy, too!"

"Oh, no no, it's fine!" I raised my hands up and laughed nervously, knowing this was all my fault into this situation, that a crazy book worm was forcing me to read the book. "There's a lot of book stores in town, I'll just go there!"

"But why waste your good precious money when you know someone else has the same book? Are you not accepting my gesture of kindness towards you?"

"No, that's not it-"

"Then you get my copy. You're very much welcome." He sat down, as if that was the signal that the conversation was over. It was final. He won.

—-

"I must admit," he said, as his hand extended, reaching out into the air. On cue, this fingertip moistened from the water falling from the grey skies.

"Today, I was feeling blue and grey, but you've lifted my spirits up miss." He pulled out his umbrella, casting it over us as the rain began to fall without a sound.

"Looks like it's going to rain again."