𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐕𝐈𝐈 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲

Neither you nor Niccolo worked when it stormed. Your father figure wrote off such days as the universe giving the two of you a much-needed break. However, even with the rain about to fall the next morning, he still took the liberty of pulling down all the laundry you cleaned yesterday before it needed to be rewashed. Niccolo even helped you neatly fold the clothes and linens and separated them to return to their rightful owners. When you finished, you stood like a ghost at the kitchen windows as the water droplets bulleted the plants in your garden, knowing you had nothing else to concern yourself with for the day.

Gray hues drenched the world outside, from the grass to the lake to the sky, until water beads eventually raced down the windowsill. Liquid marbles merged and split apart, all in a great rush to reach the earth below. Your fingertips pressed to the cold glass, tracing a particular watery diamond. A quarter of the way down, the tiny speck merged with a much larger glob stuck to the pane. They traveled downward together but split apart before dripping out of view. The longer you watched, the longer your lids closed between each blink.

"Drink this," Niccolo said as he placed a cup of coffee on the counter. "You should go back to your room and rest when you're done. You look so exhausted."

"I'm fine. Fatigue caught up with me, that's all. We should bake something today. Cookies... or biscuits. Might lift the spirits."

You pressed the cup to your lips without looking away from the glass. The bitter aftertaste covered your pallet like dirt, even with all the sugar Niccolo dumped in for you.

"I still have cakes from the other day if you want something sweet." Niccolo paused for a breath, but you could hear his trepidation even in the silence. "I hate to pry, but I can't ignore how dreadful you look. I can ride to Dr. Yeager's office and see if he has anything to help you sleep if the usual lavender oil isn't working."

You finally peered at Niccolo in the dimly lit kitchen. He looked so much older, but not from sudden inexplicable aging or a lack of decent sleep. He was worried, and it was your fault.

"I swear I'm alright. I'll sleep better now that the rain's here," you lied in a breathy whisper.

No longer able to face Niccolo after your dishonesty, your gaze shifted back outside. Rain shook the lake's surface, sending ripples through the normally glass-like feature. Your eyebrows furrowed as you squinted toward the waterfront movement stirred near the cabins. As lightning struck far away, Mr. Arlert rushed from his lodging, hidden under an umbrella, from his lodging. He jumped when the flash illuminated the fields. A towering figure trailed calmly behind the blonde, and sudden panic filled your lungs.

You were frozen–unable to move from your place. You helplessly watched as they drew closer with each step. They disappeared around the side of the house, and adrenaline finally pulsed through your veins.

"Maybe you're right, after all, Niccolo!" you said with an awkward laugh. "I suddenly don't feel well. I should go lay down."

Making a quick dash for the stairwell, you realized too late that you were too slow to escape. Mr. Arlert and Mr. Kirstein appeared at the front door and began shaking the water from their umbrella and clothes, respectively, on the porch.

"Oh! You're up!" Mr. Arlert smiled at you when his eyes made contact with your face. "I was worried when you didn't come by with tea or breakfast this morning! Are you alright?"

You swallowed away the rock in your throat and forced a sweet smile to your cheeks. "I slept in. Are you staying in the house today?"

"Yes! With the storm, it's better to be where the windows are sturdier. Niccolo said there were some 'rain games' to play when he brought tea this morning. Would you like to show me some of your American pastimes?"