Aquarelle [h.s]

one

FIVE YEARS LATER

The raindrops were hitting the glass of the window violently, the sound reverberating through the apartment, before slowly sliding down its smooth and cold surface, pooling on the windowsill before finally falling onto the street beneath.

The city always seemed so peaceful under the water. I'd always enjoyed rain, even though I'd always despised the thought of having to go outside and get wet. It always was a great inspiration to me, and I wished I could've just stayed at home and sketched a bit with the sound of the rain as my background. But I knew I had to go out to go to work, and even though it was the middle of February I could easily tell that quite a lot of people would've ended up at the museum I worked at. After all it was London, and whenever it rained the majority of tourists chose to go to museums.

I'd never expected it to become my job if I had to be honest, but it paid well enough and it allowed me to be surrounded by art, which was something I'd always loved. Besides, I'd definitely had to pull some strings in order to get it, considering the relatively little working experience I'd had after getting my bachelor's degree, so I surely wouldn't have left it anytime soon. It was the perfect job for me while I waited to start my career as an artist - which surely wasn't an easy task.

The warmth of the cup in my hands easily spread to my cooling skin, the heat of the bedsheets long gone.

Sometimes I stopped and wondered how I'd got to that point, years having flashed by and having taken me away quicker than lightning before I could acknowledge what was going on. The only soothing reassurance I had was that I'd done what I truly wanted to do, so even though I'd been dragged away by the current that whole time, I knew I was following my rightful path.

And then, everything had stilled. It was as if someone had stopped the watch, and all of sudden I was stuck, the road to my dream not being as easily walkable as it once was. I didn't feel stuck though, because I knew that such things are complicated to achieve, so it didn't feel like an end, but more like a temporary stop.

The truth was, I'd never felt as free as I did in that moment, which may have seemed odd considering I was stuck in a job with no possibility of making a career out of what I loved in the foreseeable future, but I couldn't help but feel like a bird ready to take flight. And then, I was.

"Good morning, love" a low voice said behind me all of sudden, bringing me out of my thoughts in a rushed but never unwanted way.

I smiled to myself, not turning around, gripping the cup in my hands a bit harder as I stood in front of the window, hearing his soft steps behind me as he came closer. I slightly turned my head to the side when I felt his arms wrap around my waist. "Hi" I whispered, letting myself linger in his gentle touch.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, and I shrugged, taking a sip of the latte in the cup I was holding.

"Nothing important" I told him, finally turning around in his arms and meeting his blue eyes, smiling as I saw the little smile curving his lips.

He hummed. "If you think so" he replied, making it clear that he knew it wasn't as irrelevant as I'd said it was, but that he had no intention of pressuring me into telling him what it was. That was probably one of the things I liked the most about him, he never pressured me to talk about anything - which often ended up becoming the perfect technique for me to tell him just about anything.

I sighed, escaping his hold and taking the couple of steps that separated me from the kitchen table, putting the cup down on it. "I'm just a bit nervous, I guess" I told him truthfully. "This is kind of a big deal, what if it doesn't work out?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I hope you're talking about the exposition and not our relationship, Sierra" he said, a little sarcasm in his voice masking the insecurity behind his words.