Raelyn's world is black and white. Shades of gray and dark shadows lurking in her dreams. She only ever sees the color blue. Blue in the eyes of her sick little brother. Blue in her own eyes staring back at her from the mirror. Blue in the sadness o...
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There's something about watching Raelyn work. Not her actual job though, where she's bustling around like a busy honey bee, serving hot coffee to customers in the early morning hours. That's when her brain seems to be only on one set mode; serve, smile, be friendly. That's when she makes small talk with regular customers, accepts generous tips with a gracious smile, and deals with rude people who think working in a diner is below them. She's different running around the diner for more than half the hours in a single day. But here, in the darkroom she calls her own, she's almost a completely new person.
Louis is sitting on a unoccupied workbench pushed against the far opposite wall, silently observing her. When Rae drove to his flat in the late morning, she tentatively asked him to join her in the dark room. He agreed, despite his messy bed head and crumpled joggers he slept in, and let her in. Both he and Harry, who came to greet her at the door, were shirtless at the time, every tattoo inked on their bodies on displayed. However, all Rae did was gently press her thumb onto the cross etched on Harry's hand asking if some day she could photograph each of their tattoos, including Zayn's.
Harry offered to make her a quick breakfast, and when he left the two of them alone, Rae turned to Louis. He tried catching her eyes, tried reading what was wrong since she seemed off to him. But her eyes were glued to his chest, and just as she did to Harry, she had lifted her hand to Louis' chest, carefully tracing over the elegant letters beneath his collar bone.
Rae's been abnormally quite ever since. Never speaking louder than necessary, in fact, only speaking when Louis prompted her to. Now he's watching her move about with his eyebrows perturbed in a furrow. The concentration she has while developing photos seems serene. Her shoulders are relaxed in this moment, her movement graceful and easy. It's a routine for her she's got down to a tee, so easy and simple and Louis thinks she's this clam because it's her escape. It's the only place Rae feels like she can go to, to shut off her mind, her thoughts, the voices that scream doubts into her eardrums. Where she can turn it all off and move on autopilot.
He doesn't like it. Louis hates this strange tension in the air, like Rae's just on the verge of breaking if not approached carefully. She hasn't mentioned it yet, but Louis suspects the dark circles and the dimness of her eyes are due to another long, sleepless night at the Hospice. Louis can't help but watch her though. He can't move from his spot just yet; wants to give her just a little more time for her to calm herself mentally before he says anything. He watches her hang up another picture, making sure it's secure in the clothes pin before moving on.
It's a breathtaking photo; taken just a few days ago at the park. The way Rae had captured the setting sun between the tree trunks is incredible. Streaks of light and dark fill the photo like stripes on a tiger, makes it look hauntingly beautiful. When Louis squints, he can make out a silhouette just at the far right corner. He thinks it's Zayn, judging by the barely visible swirl of smoke rising into the air.
