it was a rainy night when they met. a perfect drizzle. one with dark skies and even darker streets, yet the glow of the street lamps were enough for her to find her way.
her.
she was perfect, in all the ways one can be. right out of a pinterest post or a movie scene, if you will. everything about her was red. her skin, her hair, her eyes, the staff that bobs in her hand as she walks, and he'll soon to learn, her personality. it was red. she was red.
who knows where she was off to. if she's coming from somewhere or going somewhere. but it didn't matter to him. the moment he laid eyes on her, he was enticed. and not in the 365 days way, more like a walk to remember sort of way.
he tried to speak, tried to pull words out of his mouth, yet nothing. not more than a mere squeak of his voice. his eyes stayed glued to her. mesmerized. as if he had a little school girl crush. fuck heather, this girl is carmen.
she walked so eloquently. so smoothly. it was like she owned the ground beneath her. the click clack clack click clack of her high heels matched up perfectly with the peddling of the rain.
she's one with it, he realizes. one with the earth, one with the rain. she has to be.
just as he's one with the nightmares. one with the creepy crawlies that scurry around in the dark shadows of bedrooms. eternal; eater of worlds; of children.
a perfect balance.
she's just about to pass over the overhang of the sewers. right where rain water would rush down and get his shoes all wet again. the puff on his suit would point at the ends, the fabric would cling uncomfortably to his body. the humidity was already too much, imagine the mustiness of his clothing.
it was hard to decipher high heels from rain, but once he picked it up, it was hard to unhear. they neared closer... and closer.. and closer..
and he knew it was time.
"hello.." he speaks. slow, quiet. almost to the point of being drained away by the rain.
"hello," he says again. this time as he grips the cold stone of the sewer drain. his white gloves are dingy with grey water, speckled with dirt. but he doesn't mind. not after having them permanently on for centuries after centuries.
"hello," he finishes. his voice is deep, much deeper than the first. he's hoisting himself up out of the drainage system, eyes on her eyes.
she's stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. eyes curious, wet stands of hair sticking to her face. perhaps she's not as mesmerized, but hell is she entranced.
"hi?"
and he's whipped again.
he shambles out from his home and stands a good six feet away. past the sidewalk, and the cut of grass, and the sewer. he just stands there with his floppy clown costume on.
"i'm," he begins, dramatically flailing his arms out before hooking them around his torso and bending, "pennywise. the dancing clown."
he stays, awaiting an introduction on her part. yet none come. so he picks up his head and stares up at her confused. "well?" he pushes, "what's your name?"
"shelby. what about it?"
pennywise stands straight, the orange balls on his suit bouncing with him. "that's a beautiful name you got there. shelby. shelby.." he repeats, simply testing how it sits on his tongue.
"yeah?" she asks, then draws out the three pronged staff and shoves it in his direction. her eyes are narrowed, mouth set. "pretty things are better left untouched, so keep it out of your mouth."
even with a sharp object being pointed in his direction, pennywise can't help but stare. "feisty. but i respect that. as i, pennywise, am a respecter of wamen. i will keep your pretty pretty pretty name out of my mouth!"
shelby's glare softens. her staff falters, and it takes a few blinks (to rid the rain) and seconds for it to process through her mind.
"oh," she says. "..thanks, pen."
"pen?" he repeats.
"yeah," she says with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "short for pennywise. pen... don't like it? fucking sucks. it's staying, pen."
"i like it," draws from pennywise's mouth. "i do like it."
her chin raises. a slight hint of a smile crosses her lips. "good."
her eyes linger for just a moment. lingers on his eyes, lingers on his outfit, on the hair that's a softer shade of red she is.
"good," she says again before turning and walking off. back down the path she was first starting off on. pennywise stands in the street, cold, soaked, a little rejected but more satisfied than ever. he watches as shelby walks down the sidewalk, hair slick wet, staff bobbing, and a devil's tail he's just now noticing.
