Dokidoki; my heart

on a rainy day - I

Four walls closed off space; the slanted high ceiling held bright lights illuminating warmth not strong enough to reach him and her. Down there, two friends; a boy and a girl sought refuge from the cold - she shrugged off her rain jacket with ease. But they were both not trying to notice the momentary shiver that ruffled a strand of his inky, lengthy, boyish hair to the front of his face, not that it mattered to disrupting his soaking profile - a single layer of clothing clad to him, another hidden upper layer being only a thin t-shirt to a simple hoodie and sweatpants; what would usually have been warming enough for a bitter, chill day. But evidently it was taking a turn; just like what looked like to be a bleak day that would rise, it fell suddenly into unexpected angry rain.

He shook it out, taking off his hoodie and ceasing the stillness that made him cold - into movement as his steps moved in direction of purpose. Then, his own irrational, alleged reasoning caused a boost of speed as it brought out a snickering, girlish laugh as he looked like a constipated being needing to relieve himself, his high knees of acting not reaching his playful and honest eyes. He glances at her, with mischief. His energy source was fuelled by the now loud guffaw sounding from point a to now point b as she sped away in front of him as she managed to clutch the cold metal door handle of the storage room and pull it open for him, mockingly teasing;
"Ladies first, slowpoke."

There was no hesitation in entering the cluttered room full of sports equipment, as he headed straight for the metal poles that could be branch-like, as tiny stumps spanned out in three directions at the top. And who could help looking at the contracting, slightly visible muscle, there but slim in his lean figure as he walked out back straight, tufts of his growing hair hiding his face as he voices out with an unknowing smile in his tone;
"Get the blue tub next to you, we're playing badminton."

Her wide eyes stare towards the open doorway as she mutters,
"Man, I suck at badminton.."

Before glaring at an assortment of net and colourful racquets in the very blue tub.

The game was set as they kept a distance apart, sizing up the friendly opponent of each other, as they were both very competitive, no matter what. She could see him through the large holes of the net in her vision; and stared at him willingly, and almost desperately implying that she didn't know how to play the game with the black and white feather ball and a clumsy racquet in her hand - her whole previous experience was just grey like the sky outside - in between. Trust that the times she played with others they just ended up teasing her for being like a baby bird not able to use her flutter of feathers - hypothetically of course. She needed someone to teach her.

He had never seen her in that attention before, but of course then he saw clearer that while she was trying to keep a composure, doing the best she could, it was not enough to hide that she was nervous holding the feather ball in her shaking left hand that after a moment she willed it still, with the clumsiness of her right hand she drops the round point of the ball towards where her racquet was supposed to go, but she swung a second too late so the ball in clunk against the racquet frame didn't match her strength in motion - it collided to the barrier: the net.

It could have been just bad luck for starting, but her sheepish expression directed to either the net or him said everything.

His lifted the side of his mouth as he answered;
"Lesson 101 in Badminton", she smiled at this goofball as he says;

"Come on Turbo, let's speed away."

His humble smirk that formed, beckoning her to cross the line of their court as she took the first steps under the barrier.

Once she was on his side, he demonstrated how to serve properly, well as proper for a friendly game. As she was intently watching, she couldn't help but also think how steady his tanned hand held his racquet, the strong-looking structure linear to the visible veins lining to the knuckles that defined five, long digits curled around the handle; the hand to eye coordination natural as the teacher briefly focused on doing it right, before giving a sly wink to the girl staring, and his gentle but confident voice spoke out;

"I know it's freezing in here and it's so easy to focus on one of the hottest beings in the room, like me, but I need you to look over here,"he laughs earnestly as it echoes around the hall. He continues;

"-look at the ball of feathers dropping from my right hand, although inanimate by itself, when it comes into contact with the upper-middle point of my racquet, it will go over the net."
He takes the small step forward by one leg.

Her gaze dropped down to his pair of hands as she focused furthermore, even that was hard, in the midst of cringing at the pickup line, that terrible that after the feather ball flew over the net, she burst out to her laughter, in between this fit of badly contained giggles, hiccup burps and tearing eyes, she exclaimed;

"Did you just indirectly call me hot?"
In habit of watching the simple bird fly, it was a moment until his eyes met hers, and suddenly the air thickened as he pursed his blush-like lips, in thought as his eyes crinkled in the response to his blunt admittance, not that he was going to reveal the rest of his thoughts.

"Did I? Or would you rather be called cold and non-appreciative of my jokes? Your turn." He sweetly smiled back at the girl he admired. She calms down at this and humorlessly replies;

"I'm no ice queen if you claim that I'm speedy Turbo," as she runs to retrieve the ball and her racquet. She runs back, and he moves a few steps back to get more of a bigger picture to her geeky, inexperienced stance. As she blew a few stray hairs that framed her face back, setting her facial expression to a cute pout, he patiently waited for her second attempt in the slow-moving day, a teacher to this young grasshopper.

It's quick and perhaps either a fluke or that she was a quick learner, but her feather ball sailed with much accuracy. This excited her, as wholesome pride envelops her. She bounces to the other of the court with the newfound energy like a 5 year old and he watches on amused. He stays silent, not at first wish, but as she spreads her arms behind her and is naruto-going back to her initial place, she doesn't care that she's yelling out;
"I can do this!"

And however irrational she was, this time she was in a rush, or it was her restless energy that powered the force that was, too much for the poor feather ball that flew too high and too far, falling to a ledge that was very high, obviously out of their arm reach.

This time she watches in sad awe, moments after moments still staring at the only ball they found. She slowly turns around, the squeak of her shoes twisting to face him as she awkwardly grins..

"Oops."

~to be continued.