See You Again: Wlw Short Story

After All These Years <3

hi! though I'd try my hand at romance: hope you enjoy! this was a piece i wrote when i was younger, but i still love it (:
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It was raining in an incessant downpour, glazing the world in a bright sheet of water.
Birds sang blithely as they took off from their perches in the willow tree, silver droplets dampening their feathers. Sheltered in it all, someone sat, her hands wringing in anticipation of the coming events, periodically touching her jacket pocket as if to reassure herself the letters were still there, that her burning adoration for the girl was truly reciprocated on those scrolls of parchment.
The train was running a tad late: it was nearly 8:00, and the sun was setting through the thick clouds. As she watched the amber tracks, empty as far as the eye can see, her heart began beating frantically, as if ready to leave her body.

"Any minute." She softly spoke to the air, and patted down her drenched hair in an attempt to prepare for the next moments.

A screech of metal on metal suddenly jolted her out of her evanescent daydream of possibilities. For the train was arriving, and with it was to bring the most kindred-spirit the woman was to ever encounter- that is, if her letter writer's writing matched her in real life of course.
The train halted right in front of her sodden bench, a lovely scarlett-coloured one with smoke curling through the platform in ribbons.
Stranger upon stranger wandered past her bench, chatting merrily to one another, but none of them seemed to be searching for someone, craning their necks throughout the quiet chaos of the station.
Yet, as soon as this thought passed throughout her mind, it was as if her longing had been instantaneously answered, and the very last passenger left the cool interior of the train, the back compartment.
She wore a dress the exact hue of sunflower petals, and had dark, fair skin that seemed to glow amongst the fading light of day. Her eyes looked around.
Perhaps...The woman thought, a wondrous soaring sensation established in her stomach.
Something inside her knew that was the person she had talked with, exchanging whispers and laughs with through the anonymity of parchment.
Every week she would wait for the arrival of communication, thrilled that someone would take the time to correspond with her. As the postman slid it under her chocolate-coloured door, she always felt the same odd soaring feeling, like everything within the world had suddenly righted itself.
Here, she would no longer need to await such appeasement, for there the pen pal was, clutching a leather bag and her face sporting a nervous look. That was alright, for the woman felt butterflies too.
No longer able to contain herself, the woman walked, (attempting elegance not granted with sprinting), to the other woman, who turned on her heel towards her, a quizzical look on her face.

"Hello, may I help you?" She stated carefully.

"Yes, uh, well, I believe you are perhaps looking for someone. I am too. Er, we, you don't happen to be meeting up with a correspondent of yours-would you?" Every fiber of her being felt paralazyed, as if to drown within those eyes, glistening with question. The correspondent's face was speckled with constellations of freckles, and the only word to describe her had to be 'pulchritudinous', an exquisite word the woman had come across within a book a day or so ago.

"Oh!" Recognition flashed. "You must be Lillian. You're Lillian!"

The rain was gradually growing colder, the air was frigid, and Lillian was glad. Her face was burning the shade of crimson, and she felt her letters subconsciously.
"Evelyn, the pleasure is mine. Lovely to finally meet your acquaintance."

"Lillian!" Evelyn bounced slightly in excitement on the dirt road, splashing the ends of her dress in water.
She exhaled, and shook the ends of her afro in exasperation.

Lillian stifled a laugh with the assistance of her soaked sleeve.
"Care to get out of here?" She questioned, partially breathless for reasons not to be disclosed.

"You bet." Evelyn smiled, and naturally laced her arm in Lillian's, leading her past the quaint station, and towards where the sprawling hills stood more prominent.
The pair walked off the adjacent path, blooming plants shifting in the wind, the world painted with a sleek shine, the air perfumed with former rain. Droplets fell upon them periodically from the canopy of leaves above, trailing down their clothes and transfiguring each section of them sodden.
Evelyn jumped in and out of puddles childishly, ("My dress will dry, won't it?"), completely comfortable with Lillian already. After all, their letters contained a mound of candid words, and they felt as though they had known each other for approximately a century or so. What a lovely pair they were, flushed from jollification, running around despite the threatening darkness yearning to consume the path. It was not to phase them, for they had found each other throughout it all, they now acquired each other's company. That truly was enough for Lillian, and her aching ceased. She smiled at Evelyn tentatively.