Chasing Shadows

Rain

- Rain

Juvia sighed and closed her eyes. Letting her body collapse on the swivelling chair, she rested. Just minutes ago, she was talking to one of her writers, warning and explaining that her manuscript might get dropped if she continued her tardy submissions. They talked for quite a long time.

Dejected, the lady rushed out of her office to hasten her work, high heels making noisy sounds while she ran with tears starting to fall from her face. This was the part Juvia hated the most, seeing the regret and fear in the hopeful eyes of the writers who put their lives into writing, months of hard work and creativity limited only by a due date set on their talents. These people would lock themselves in their rooms and sit all night, racking their brains, typing endlessly as the words filled the pages on their laptop screens, slowly creating their own unique tale, and when morning came, they still persisted. She always tried to encourage and set deadlines that writers could manage, she loved reading their work and improving them as she flipped through the pages of their manuscripts, but there were some who just can't keep track.

"Follow your passion, not let it consume you" she said to her empty office.

She'd been doing this for 2 years now, and it didn't get any easier. Everyday sitting in this office, talking or reading with writers, discussing matters about their work, she'd see the passion in their eyes. It was a showcase of a person's vulnerability, and she was the one that brought them out. She didn't want that. She was amazed by what people could write about, the expression and the story that they could create in their minds, how they could interpret love, friendship, family or any other aspect of daily life in millions of different ways and put it on paper using words that made perfect sense. It was a gift to the world when they could be published and read, but that fulfilment came with continuous dedication and punctuality. It was a collective effort on the part of the writer and the editor. If one couldn't keep up, it would all fall apart.

She shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. She opened her eyes and looked at her office, it was spacious and well lit, there were several plants beside the door, a deep brown rug, twin bookshelves lined one corner and her desk was at the center, a set of chairs in front of it, the blinds were pulled back and revealed dark clouds that threatened to unleash waves of water upon the poor mortals of the city. She closed her eyes again.

Rain.

Another though crossed her mind, a dangerously beautiful face that haunted her, even in her sleep, memories of 6 years ago, black hair that fell over his pale skin and sapphire blue eyes bordered by dark lashes, a wide sensuous mouth that turned up into an easy grin, ever since they were kids, she'd always, always recognize that smile. But this memory was not one of him smiling, it was a memory wherein they were drenched by the rapid rain, when she was 18 and he a year older than her.

She'd let him under her umbrella, the same one tattered and destroyed on the ground, when she saw him standing in the middle of the field outside their school. He just stood there, not minding the rain, wetting his clothes and his ink black hair. He'd let his backpack fall from his shoulder and it landed with a thud on the wet ground.

"Gray?" She shouted over the thunder of the rain. He didn't seem to hear. No one else was in sight, in this weather, everything hid from the torrent of the rain, they were the only two outside. The rain hit the pavement vigorously, making noisy sounds as they collided with the ground. She didn't want to go back inside and leave him there.

She rushed to him, halfway her shoes got a little wet when she almost stepped into a puddle. Finally she was beside him and she held up her umbrella, with a worried look on her face she'd ask him if he was okay.