What They Can't See. || H.S

Chapter Five: The First Rain

I lay in bed starring at the wall, watching this tiny mischievous fly zig-zag above me like a performance. It had been my official second day of skipping work. The idea of walking in there and showing my face scare me in all honesty. I was ashamed of what took over me that afternoon. How I let myself fall into an emotional spiral. Emotions. The part that continues to trip me up, what emotions would cause a thing like this? 

"Bed again?" I saw the shadow of my mother leaning against my door way. "Yup." popping the 'P'at the end I turn over to face her getting a better look, grabbing the pillow my head was resting on and holding it closer. 

"You sure you don't want to-" 

"nope." 

I was at the age where my mother's advice stayed as just that. I hate to say it but my mom didn't understand. Hell, I didn't even understand it myself. We sat in silence till she said, "well, If you wont go into work, that doesn't mean you need to stay in bed all day." I watched as she took off her cleaning apron that she wore almost everyday of her life; even when she wasn't cleaning at all. She placed it on top of my dresser, "Come on get up, get dressed." I watched as she walked out my room and sighed with the kick of my feet onto the floor. 

-

The sound of my mother and I's heals against the pavement seemed to grow louder the more we walked. Though my mother and I could never step foot into a Macy's or a Bloomingdale, we somehow managed to purchase a great deal of goods. A spoil day if you will.  

 "Lets just keep this girls day to ourselves, no need to tell your father." my mother winked at me. All girls days were hidden from the man of the home, save both of us from a lecture on 'How important it is to save'  but one thing my dad never realize is he won't be able to take it with him when he dies. 

We continued walking down,  slowly I began to remember these streets from the past days. Seeing the flower shop with un-purchased wilted sunflowers around their door; I remembered where I was. We continued to walk till we came to Styles new location. But, something was different. As we approached I walked over to the open glass windows, and noticed in each one was the same painting. The only color of painting was black and the abstract work showed a girl, a girl I believed to be me. What other girls would he be painting in the rain, how many woman did he allow to walk alone in the rain.  I came closer, ignoring the fact that I already was pressing on to the glass. Reading a white paper  that was propped next to it with the words, 'The First Rain , By : Styles'

I stood there, ignoring my mother's numerous calls of my name, and watched the painting as if it would be moving at some point and I didn't want to miss it if it did. I turned back to my mom, handing her the bags. "I have to go.. I will be home for dinner." My mothers forehead wrinkled, "where do you think you're-" before I let her finished I kissed her cheek and began walking east of her; heading straight for Muse. 

- 

"Why The Umbrella." I watched him turn to me, shock on his face. I hope it was shock. I had been standing here for five minutes watching him look at proofs through the light coming down from the window, hoping he would see me before I had to say something first but the chance never came. He cleared his throat, setting down his papers on to the desk, my desk, and opening his mouth but nothing came. "I didn't have an umbrella." I add.

"Who said it was you in that painting." 

Silence rang,  we both stood in the same position. Skeptical on if it really was even me, I just decided to let silence be my prayer. "The umbrella-" he starts and I look up from my feet, " I know you did not have one, it's a symbol." I watched silently as he moved closer explaining more. "The umbrella it's warped, broken, its practically useless but she attempts to let it protect her. It tries it's best to do something, to shield her from the world, the rain, but fails and leaves her wet." He was now only inches from me, my hands that once stayed crossed in front of my body now reside  behind me hanging to the floor. 

I start, "And you're the-" he chuckles before releasing a sigh, taping the toes of his hard glassy shoes to the floor. "I'm the stupid fucking umbrella." The silence was no longer when laughs begin to fall from styles and I's mouth. When they soon fade he clears his throat, "I do wish to apologize for the other day. My character is largely unattractive but when I become mad I don't wish to be around well, anyone." I listened to him explain himself, the thing I most wanted from the beginning. He could lie to me now, and find himself Scott free in my eyes because everything he said felt as if it was all true. "And then when you were.. crying-" I cut him off there, nodding to show that It was enough. 

"It's fine Styles." 

"Do you mind calling me Harold.. or Harry." confusion ran through me and sat on my face waiting for further explanation to why. "Styles; its a business name a name used for clients and foam based people but you, Vienna, you are more than that,"

"So please call me Harry." 

_

Shit gonna get good I figured how I am using harry's art into place with this story, also all art is searched no rights reserved there. AS well as any photographs 

-author