𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒: 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴.

𝟏𝟕. 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝘔𝘜𝘚𝘏 𝘔𝘌𝘠𝘌𝘙𝘚

In New York, it always seemed to rain. For Y/N Pulitzer, it was such a special thing to be able to sit and watch outside of her father's window — the window that he stood in right before he lost the strike. One day, it seemed to become far more personal to watch the rain... when there appeared a curly haired newsie.

———

You stand by the window of your father's office, looking down upon the square battered by rainfall. You allow yourself to wander into your thoughts, when a cheered yell interrupts them. "Hm?" you murmur to yourself, allowing your eyes to fall onto a group of newsies — the curly haired one included. You turn around toward the door, allowing your feet to carry you down the stairs and into the beautiful weathered outdoors.

The newsies all turn to you, including the curly haired one — he was even more beautiful up close. "Hi, Y/N!" Race steps up, someone who had become your close friend over the years. "Hey, Race! You guys are clearly enjoying the rain," you chuckle, hugging your dearest friend. "We all are," he begins, "oh! Also, since you're down here.. allow me to introduce you to everyone!"

The curly haired one locks eyes with you - who you learn from Race is named Mush - and the whole world seems to fade out. Your gaze involuntarily lowers down to his mouth to watch a smile form, with one unknowingly forming onto your own face. "It's nice to meet you," Mush speaks in a soft tone. "It's great to meet you as well," you respond. He steps closer to you, his gaze never leaving yours; until a cough causes him to tear his attention away.

You look up at the sky, allowing the rain to fall onto your face. You close your eyes, "Ah, I love weather like this," you say. "A-As do I," Mush responds, stepping even closer to you. "You seem cold, your stutter is apparent with your teeth chattering.. would you like to go inside of the building?" you ask softly. "Yes, please," he says, and the two of you walk inside, the other newsies following close behind.

You gather up some blankets, some towels, and ask to prepare some warm tea (fancy, am I right?). You take a seat on the couch, where Mush decides to join you. "Thank you for bringing us in, Y/N," he says, gently nudging his knee against yours. "You're very welcome," you respond, looking over at him. The moment your eyes meet, a lightning bolt strikes outside... maybe that's Mother Nature's way of telling you this is the start of something beautiful.

Mush took one of the folded blankets from your lap, layering it over his shoulders to keep himself warm. You offer a cup of tea, resting it onto the table before the pair of you. With Race and the others currently occupied, you decide to speak to your curly haired newsie. "So, Mush. That's quite frankly the only thing I know about you thus far, it seems."

"Right. Mush Meyers," he started. "I'm 16, soon 17, and I've worked with the guys since my mother's passing back when I was 12." A sad revelation dawned on your facial features; there was more to these boys than the hardheaded and hardworking personalities they constantly displayed.

Mush made you wish to know more. Not only about himself, but about all the rest too — and you were going to take advantage of all the time the pair of you got together to learn. You learned all of their names, youngest to oldest — Mush, naturally, was one of your favorites. You got to know Blink, Bumlets, Swifty, Dutchy, and so many more.

But your curly haired newsie was always yours. Mush had taken an immediate interest in you. He adored everything about you, especially your shared love of rain. You'd go out together each night it tended to rain. You would lay there and talk, or you would mess about dancing with him. Every time your eyes seemed to meet, lightning struck and thunder clapped somewhere.

The rainfall told your destiny with the curly haired newsie.