Dainty and Dauntless

Wonder:

Let me inside, I wanna get to know you.
I don't wanna make you feel bad, but I've been trying hard not to act a fool.
~ Harry Styles

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My mind kept demanding, on and on, over and over again. It just kept going nonstop. I pleaded with it, pointing out how terrible the weather was at the moment. I begged for it to spare me till the clouds were done raging but It was all fruitless.
Funny how at ease I am when I finally give in to the commands, it's foolish too. I laugh at us both, my mind and me, as I let my mind do as it wills.
As my feet lead me back, I feel so proud of myself. I was being a good boy, and good boys sprint in the rain, the brutal down-pour kind as a way to feel less guilty for hurting another.
When I finally get there, the cold and I had merged, unlike the water streaming down my body. My drenched self was making the puddle at my feet wider each second as I kept standing there. I look up the stairs, questioning if I should proceed to climb them. If there had been a good chance of me changing my mind, it would have been now... or a second ago, because I had already made it to the entrance of the library.
I peek inside, the room is gloomy now. Only the little golden lights on the walls are on, flickering.
No one was in right now, It was just a room of shelves, some scattered books on the counter and an empty bag at a table in the corner.
Could it be hers?
I ask myself as I walk towards the aisle. She had walked on to the back, at least that's what I recall when I had looked up before I had missed her passing by. This heartbeat of mine keeps putting up a fight with the thunder that keeps rumbling outside as once again, my feet lead me forward. My eyes glance sideways at the aisles of each bookshelf I pass, even the one I had been in a while back and make my way to the last one.
What was she still doing back here?
I had to make sure that she wasn't still back there. I hadn't seen her get out and it has been close to twenty minutes now. A sigh escapes my lips when I set my eyes on the figure snuggled down on the floor, its shoulders gently rising and falling with every breath taken and withdrawn.

This girl.
Sleeping soundly in a dark library in such gloomy weather is too reckless. I think of the possibility of the librarian actually locking the library, unaware of her at the back and I sigh again. My continuous worry was not helping the situation, not even my disappointed head shake tried to calm my nerves. Seriously Simmons, and to think she will hate me more if I scold her about it! The storm outside was only getting worse. Waking her up would only startle her, and she will probably want to storm off the second she registers my presence. I was going to let her continue with her sleep and keep watch, just in case.

"This is what you want, right?"
My mind doesn't answer back, and I receive no objection from it either. I sneer at its silence as I sit down next to her.  I manage to cross my legs and bridge the gap between us. I felt colder now with the damp clothes touching my body and hoped for the cozy room to help with reducing the chances of a possible cold later on. At least she has a coat on. When I look closely, I see that her cheek is glistening. Her eyelashes too.
Tears! Had she been crying some time back?
The hand beneath her cheek has a small pool of liquid, definitely tears. If playful comments and witty jokes riled her up, I bet telling her "No" can do much worse. I chuckle, "girlfriend material_"

...wait, what!

I stop myself; Was I just beaming up as I said that... out loud? I take a second to re-think what just happened. The more I re-wind the scene, the bigger I feel ashamed; I'm sitting cross legged, closely watching the girl I made cry a year ago yet I am finding pleasure in calling her girlfriend material. And I even have a girlfriend.

"What the actual HELL!!!" I don't think I am aware of how loud I am with the exclamation and simply go on. "Like, really? Oh my_"
I then recall that there is someone sleeping near by and I look down to see her attempting to move. She gets up and I freeze, I didn't mean to wake her up.
What now? She may run out in the rain.
I don't know what to do so I just watch her, and get ready for her to whisk herself away once she can see me clearly. She sits up, crosses her legs and tries to blink the sleep away. Her eyes are a bit swollen when she stares at me. She squints her eyes at me then laughs a bit as she wipes the tears off her cheeks then takes her time, drying her face, fixing her hair and clothes. Then after she sighs and looks at me, supporting her cheek with an arm, elbow poking her knee.

"Ethan, what are you doing here?" She smiles.

I really don't mean to be astounded, but I can't help it. How is she so unpredictable?
About her question... I consider telling her; Brain over here told me to come look for you, but I need a believable answer.

"Did you come back to look for me, maybe? she shrugs slightly. I am not saying you did, but your clothes look soaked," she says this while looking at my damp clothings," I say nothing. "So, why did you walk in the rain and get back here?"

I want to point out that I ran in a storm but decide to keep it to myself.
Why though? Why did you sprint out here?
Mr. Brain was now questioning me. The nerve of this guy!

Simmons had asked great questions; what and why, but I also wanted the answers to these fine inquiries. I had none, my brain was a traitor and my heart was pounding louder every time I searched for answers. All I had was a blank stare, that was really all I had to offer to her.

So she looks at me and says, "Well, I will take my leave now. I really need the cold air to hit me in the face and whisk me back to the world outside, to reality".

I don't quite understand her statement but watch as she gets up, stretches and walks away. I follow after a few minutes and go down the stairs. The cold breeze hits me, and I recollect the present. In this new-old world, I am almost done with high school, I am one of the best students in my class and I have a girlfriend, but my heart drops when I look at Simmons. In it, I will probably never see her again after here. I hate that, I really do and It reminds me of the very first time I saw her. As I come close to the start of the aisle leading away from this building, she is standing at its end, still in the shelter of the roof that expands across the aisle. She has the bag over her shoulder and her palms rub her arms up and down, probably due to the cold. The wind blows her hair as she turns and catches sight of me. She looks at me for some time then looks away from me. I know she hates me.
She walks into the rain and runs off and I watch her figure dissolve away. I hadn't thought I'd meet her again. She had left her coloring page at my house and I remembered asking my mother to teach me how to pronounce her name. I still couldn't say it flawlessly.
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