Almost Cinderella

Chapter 12

For a moment, nothing else existed for Thyme and Tine, except the boy whose eyes they were looking at and whose fingers interlaced with theirs in a warm grasp.

The moment ended with a thunderclap and the loud pouring sound of rain from the outside. Tine's eyes suddenly widened as he exclaimed, "OH, SHIT! MY LAUNDRY!"

Thyme followed Tine as the latter rushed out of his door and up the two flights of stairs leading up to the rooftop. The rain poured heavily, while the linens and clothes hanging on the clothesline billowed in the wind.

"Shit! Thyme, help!"

Tine made a mad dash and began ripping off the clothes hanging from the clothesline. "Which ones are yours?" Thyme shouted over the strong, torrential rain.

"Everything!"

There were 10 clotheslines and all of them were full. "That many?"

"It's a week's worth of laundry!"

It took quite a few trips, but finally, all of Tine's laundry were safely in the dry, albeit thrown in a heap on the rooftop doorway, by the staircase leading down the dorms. They were both soaking wet. Thyme's curls were flat on his forehead and his fur jacket was dripping. Meanwhile Tine had slipped and lost a slipper in the back-and-forth and his white shirt now clung snugly to every hill and valley of his torso.

Thyme gulped as his eyes involuntarily traced Tine's body. Suddenly, it feels too warm.

Soft knocking brought Thyme out of his reverie.

"Young master, tea?" The elderly butler placed a steaming cup of Darjeeling beside the bathtub where Thyme is currently submerged in warm rose-scented water.

"Thank you, Albert."

"How are you feeling, young master?"

"Infinitely better. There really is nothing a warm bath can't fix."

"I'm glad. You arrived with your hair soaked and shivering, like a cat caught in the middle of the rain, in clothes different from what you wore when you left."

"Yeah?" A small smile involuntarily crept up Thyme's face at the memories. "Well, it's been an eventful day."

"Hey, Thyme," Tine said, waking Thyme from his stupor. For a quick second, Thyme was nervous that he would get reprimanded for ogling.

"You're soaking wet!" Tine said, breaking down into giggling fits. Tine's laughter was contagious and Thyme soon found himself laughing along.

"Yeah? Well not as much as you!"

Tine, giving his own self a once-over, laughed harder in response. "You're right. But you know, what? That's pretty unfair."

Thyme's wrist was suddenly in Tine's hand, and in a second, he found himself being dragged under the pouring rain once more.

"Tine!"

"Come on, Thyme! Doesn't the rain feel wonderful?"

It doesn't. Thyme easily gets cold and he hates it when the weather ruins his curls and he hates getting muddy which he associates with the rain. But Tine is jumping and spinning under the downpour like a little kid, eyes narrowing into slits as he laughed and cajoled Thyme to join him.