Rainy Days Never Say Hello

On a rainy Tuesday, in a therapist’s office, the steady ticks of the lobby’s wall clock were lulling Victor to sleep. ‘What’s the point of making an appointment if you still get in late?’ He scoffed and let his head roll against the back of the couch in exasperation.

The sound of clicking heels snapped his attention. Shaking her umbrella and her ringlets of the fine veneer of drizzle, Lorelai stepped inside the lobby. Upon registering Victor’s presence, she was caught off guard but withheld her reaction of surprise.

“Hey, Lor.”

Courteous as always, she nodded in greeting and then proceeded to take a seat on the farthest side of the couch.

Victor appraised his ex and concluded that she looked the same as she did two years ago. He wondered if something was different underneath that unchanging exterior. ‘No time like the present.’

“So what are you in for?”

Glancing to her side, she answered drily, “Therapy is not prison.”

“Time flies the same while waiting out here.” Lorelai tried to keep her facial muscles from forming into a smile. ‘Ah, same old Victor, always taking everything in jest.’

She sighed. “Anger management. You?”

Victor propped his elbows on his knees and placed his chin on his knuckles. “Empathy exploration.”

A heavy silence settled between them, with both occupants of the couch staring into space.

“Afraid of being alone?” Lorelai asked while still visually drifting into the patterns of the periwinkle wall facing them.

“Big time.” He also kept his stare on the tacky floral pattern. “How do you feel about an ‘alone’ system?” Victor turned to his right side to assess her reaction.

Projecting mild confusion, she retorted, “Please elaborate.”

“When you don’t get people and they don’t get you, you can call me. And when that happens to me, I get to call you and tell you all about it. At the end of it all, we’re still alone, but somehow going together through it.”

Now fully facing him, Lorelai revealed a nostalgic smile that reminded Victor why he ran four blocks after her to get her number. “You always knew how to make a successful pitch.”

Victor now sported the large grin that made her write down her number on his hand. “Only when I have good investors.”

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The next two days went by tortuously slowly for Taisa. It was partially due to not having any academic projects to fill her program, but a few other time slots have unexpectedly been cleared from her schedule. No late visits after work, no rides, no takeout – just a lone text in her inbox that read “Will be busy for a while.” He was now avoiding her. And she knew why; she wasn’t that oblivious.

‘Oh, how the turntables have rotated,’ she bitterly mused. ‘But I’ll be damned if I’ll be the one that initiates contact first. If he ain’t interested, fine. See if I care.’- was the mantra that kept resonating in her head.

To her dismay, dark clouds were forming and the humidity was tangible, foretelling signs of a very probable storm. She was grateful at least that she was able to get off early from work and not catch the rain blowing at full force.

Feeling a light drizzle coating her face, she quickened her pace towards the shelter of her bus stop. But unfortunately for her, a loud crackling from the sky announced the abrupt start of a ferocious downpour. ‘Just my luck.’ Fat droplets rapidly pelted her hair and back, soaking her to the bone in less than a minute. Trudging miserably through the rapidly forming puddles, she felt as if walking through an endless waterfall, almost deafened by its torrentiality. That is why she noticed only the third honking of the car that was following her around.

Even through squinted and inundated eyelashes she could easily recognize the number that belonged to Xander’s car. She pretended not to notice him when he honked again, or when he rolled down the window to shout at her to get in. Reaching the bus stop, she turned just in time to see an exasperated Xander exiting his car with a dark umbrella over his head. In a few brisk steps, he was in front of her, frustrated frown still intact.

“Why didn’t you get in?”

“I couldn’t hear you.” She tried to appear impassive, as to not betray her lying.

“And you couldn’t see me as well?” The incredulous look he gave her made it clear that he wasn’t buying her story.

“Yep.” Accepting that he wasn’t going to get anywhere following this lead, he tried another.

“Why weren’t you at work?”

“I got off early. Usually you were the last customer, so I figured since you wouldn’t be showing up-”

“Have you checked your phone?” He harshly cut her off.

“Erm, no…” Caught up in her internal ramblings, she had completely blocked out the faint ring of the text message. “Either way, I’m fine. No use in getting your seats wet when I can take the bus. Like I did before you.”

Her defensiveness bothered him. He took in her drenched form; hair sticking hazardously to her wet cheeks and forehead, dark lashes even heavier from the accumulated moisture, and eyes that were trying very hard not to linger on him more than a few seconds. It annoyed him greatly that she held so much sway over him, that even when she did the most mundane of tasks he was in amazement. He had little to no willpower when it came to ignoring his enthrallment for her existence. The minor fixation he thought he could control spawned and spread quicker than wildfire in dry season, while he sat idly amid the blazes and took in its intoxicating smoke. Therein lied his confliction in the matter; his enjoyment of her presence and his addiction to it.

Out of all the questions that were residing in his brain, he picked the one he thought was less revealing of his turmoil. “What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing to bother yourself with.” Xander was not used to this barricade that kept Taisa from spilling out her ill feelings. Nor was he comfortable being the one doing the oversharing; in truth, he really had been busy these past few days, but could not bring himself to explain his hesitancy to contact her. He felt compromised, and this raw vulnerability coiled itself around his very core, preventing him from divulging more of his perceived downfall. All he could manage were a few breaths of truth from the constriction that had ensnared his soul.

“I didn’t lie. About being busy.”

His words were pushed aside, not enough to ail her grievances. “Sure. I get it. Stuff to do, people to see.”

“You can’t expect people to always be available.” Regaining the firmness of his tone, he tried reasoning with her.

“I didn’t! I was expecting a little more transparency about…”

“About what?”

“ Ugh! Forget it! I just wanna go home, take a bath and –“ she was abruptly cut off by a pair of lips on her wet cheek. He withdrew his face only a few inches, searching her own for a reaction. Her breath hitched and her body was frozen by the warmth irradiating from her cheek. Taking her lack of movement as indication to continue, he repeated the action, this time his lips landing just above her jawline where a few tendrils of hair were plastered.

Lowering her eyelids, she intently watched him brush away the meandering locks from her face and neck, resting his thumb under her chin. He tilted her head a tad to the other side to continue his exploratory ministrations. Amid his tentative kisses, he landed a few on the corner of her mouth until finally planting an open mouth kiss on her awaiting lips. Closing her eyes fully, she responded with all the pent-up feelings she had been saving for the past month, enveloping him completely and drowning him in rapture.

In all aspects of his life he liked to maintain control; control over his work, his obsessions, his habits. But now all of that came crashing down with an ardent caress of her lips, finally indulging in the cravings that had besieged him. He damned the dainty fingers that were now running through his hair, damned his body that no longer obeyed him. To gain some semblance of control back, he deepened the kiss by cradling her head with both hands, magnifying the intensity of their gratification.

And they would have continued getting lost into their whirlwind of passionate explorations had the whistle of the bus driver not interrupted them. Xander lifted his head and waved his hand to signal the driver to be on his way. Reminded that they were still in public, they parted to let some space come between them.

Cobalt blue fixed her intently, flashing with satiety and yearning.

“Still want to take a bath?” he whispered huskily.

“No. Not tired anymore.” She coyly answered while fiddling with the hem of her denim jacket. “Do you feel like wasting more time with me?”

Xander chuckled, “Wasting? I see it more as investing.”