Crystal Visions

Thunder Only Happens When It Rains

It started so long ago if it wasn't for his perfect memory the occurrence would have faded as he got older, lost to time until it was just a mere happening he tried to recall back on . Sneaking out in the middle of the night to the local library and finding what interested him. The woman in charge of said library never questioned why he was there but the fact that she let him in after hours and stayed late into the night until he was ready to go definitely never went unnoticed. Sometimes she'd hand him books she thought he'd enjoy and let him keep them for as long as he wanted, he never so much as gave them more than a glance before taking them from her offered hand and putting them in his backpack.
It was a handful of visits later that he finally inquired about her name in a small voice and with an almost uninterested expression on his face. The woman laughed from her spot across from him at the table they were sitting at. The library was different at night, the whirring of the old computers was practically non existent and the building seemed to reach a new level of quiet that seemed almost impossible given that it was a library. A place known for silence. This silence however was comforting and not forced. The woman had a stack of books with her, the titles Andrew's eyes couldn't quite focus enough to read.

"Betsy. But you can call me Bee."

"Andrew."

He gave a curt nod, letting the comforting silence and the occasional paper rustling of a turning book page fall back over them.

Bee was a soft and gentle woman, treating each book she handled with the utmost care and tentative touch. Turning the pages she was mindlessly lost in with such tender and considerate care it was like the books were alive and would feel any mistreatment and mishandling. Andrew remembers the bitter taste in his mouth and the feeling in his gut he could only describe as jealousy. A silly old book was treated better than he ever was. He put those feelings to the back of his mind and continued reading.

It was a few nights later when Andrew found himself wandering towards the library again, the phantom touch of unwanted hands on him too strong to stay still and in that house. His footsteps were rushed and he wanted nothing more than to read in the comfortable silence the library provided and the company that he found to love from Bee. The library was his safe space and practically felt like his home. The home he thought he would have had with the Spears, with Cass. The woman he found himself reluctantly caring about, who treated him like he was her actual son. She was just like the others though, well almost. He did believe she cared but the blindness to how her own flesh and blood Drake Spear treated his new adoptive brother was getting old. However he couldn't find it in him to hate her. The woman that showed him the different kitchen ingredients to cook with and which were better paired together. Knowledge that he soaked up and used just to see the bright smile on her face when he changed a recipe and improved it.

Andrew pushed the now overwhelming thoughts farther back into his head as he approached the library door, the singular desk lamp on Bees desk bright and illuminating her small comfortable corner of the library. Comfort. Bee and her library was his only source of comfort and the dangerous feeling of hope found itself creeping up Andrews body. His stomach warmed from the feeling and threatened to suffocate him as it settled and made itself at home in his throat.
He didn't like it but no matter how hard he pushed it away it inserted itself firmly in his brain, heart, and soul and he just sighed opening the door that he knew was unlocked.
Bee looked up from her book and gave him a small almost knowing and sad smile. Andrew was familiar with that look, he sees it every time he shows up at the library after another bout of abuse from Drake. Andrew does nothing but ignore it. If it was anyone else he'd be more than suspicious of the knowing look but Bee. Bee is safe.

"Andrew! How lovely to see you. What would you like to read today?"

She stands from her desk and approaches him slowly, her hair up and glasses on the tip of her nose. Her movements as always were slow but not cautious, she never walked on eggshells around him and he found himself appreciating more and more of the small things like that she did.