When It Rains

Chapter 2

"Oh I'm sorry; I was talking about the two people holding the same book." He answered with a smile while pointing at them. Just as I thought, by that it seems like he just clarified my doubts about those two people holding the same book and I was right about it.

If by any means that he was observing me as well, just because he noticed me staring at these two people, I guess it wasn't bad for him to start a conversation out of it. But I am not in a state of "look at me and notice me" mood right now. I'm in a "please don't look at me, I look funny" kind of a mood. To tell you I look like a complete mess. Ran so quick trying not to get wet while getting in the bus is probably not a good idea but what else I could do? I couldn't afford getting sick, and I could tell my bun hairstyle is probably looking like a nest right now even if I wasn't looking at the window reflection.

"I'm Theo, by the way." He added as he reached his hand out to me.

I don't want to leave him hanging. So out of politeness, I reach to shake his hand. The back of his hand was cold, but his palms are warm, and just enough to grasp my whole hand.

"Athena but people mostly call me Thea, nice to meet you." I replied, giving him a shy smile to make me sound less intimidated. A smile always works.

"By the way about those two people you were talking about, how do you make such statement like you know them so well." I said with a smile just enough to give him a hint to keep the conversation going.

He gave me a smile before he continued.

"I saw them many times around here. That book they had together"—he pointed at the two people again who seated two seats away in front of us—"They just bought that one out from a book store. Not that I was stalking them, but coincidentally saw them." 

"Small world after all."

We both say it at the same time and we both exchanged glances in surprise and let out a small laugh. He has pearly white teeth just as I expected them to be, then he turn to look at me but I immediately look away awkwardly, then down to rub my thumb out of nervousness slowly filling up in me.

"Actually, like I mentioned that I saw them many times, gives me a little bit of inspiration and I"—he slowly pulled out the notebook he have on his hand and slowly opened it and flipping through the pages.

I could see some of the sketches; most of them are portraits of people, buildings, and flowers. He stopped at almost the middle part of the notebook and stretched it widely for me to see it clearly.

It was a rough sketch of two people—the two people we both talked about awhile ago. It was kind of messy but in a way that you can still recognized the figures and the outline of the sketch.

"That's really impressive and I guess this is the two people we both talked about just awhile ago?" I asked facing him.

"It is." He said turning his head to face me while tapping on the drawing gently to avoid smudge.

"You see"—he continue, pointing at the girl's scarf in his sketch, "she always wear a scarf every rainy days. I guess that would be her signature to this sketch. Just like ever OC known as 'original character' to either I don't know if it includes writers"—he let out a nervous laugh—"but as an artist, not all but most artist has its own OC like every OC has its own signature."

He really is good at explaining detail comes from a short topic.

"I didn't know that." I lied.

So he is an artist. Comes off with a dark academia vibe, I thought he was just another 1900's writer who usually read Bukowski or probably Jane Austen for a spice of romance.

Most artist do make OC, either their OC as a reflection of themselves of who they wanna be(both physical and emotional) or an OC as a presentation of themselves to the public to keep them anonymous in real life. And as for writers, they do make an OC too but not like how artist do. In most writers, they make their OC could be more like the main character, side character or a villain. It is a story to tell for other people in a way of creating their own world. At least that's what I know.

"Well now you know." He shot me a look and smiled.

"Oh, my stop's here." He said pointing at the bus window.

Although I can't see anything due to heavy rain, but I assume he know where he is as much as I know where my stop is. He slowly picks up his stuffs getting ready to leave as the bus slows down. He leans to me to take a closer look to the window.

"It's raining cats and dogs and it might take for awhile. Here, take my umbrella." He got up walking away from me disappearing in the crowd of people who just got in the bus before I could reply.

"Wait!" I demanded trying to catch him up but he's nowhere to be seen.

"Nice nest by the way!" he shouted and I shook my head and smile in reply hoping he'll catch a glimpse of me from afar.