Tend Towards

[W] Make it Rain #39

This is my participation for the Weekly Wattpad Contest #39. Whoo!

▒▒   ▒▒  ▒▒  ▒▒  ▒▒  ▒▒

Valentine had often thought her name was purely ironic – the gods must have been having quite a laugh for most of her dating life. She huffed at the thought, brushed her hair out of her face, checked her watch for the thousandth time, and then pulled her jacket tighter around her plump frame.

It was getting cold, it was getting late and dark, and Erron was still a no-show. Typical.

Valentine, however, would not, under any circumstances, let it get to her. She was usually inclined to think that the men who stood her up had realised that she wasn't just quirky, but that she was actually just like that, that her personality was fun for a little while, but tiring for the most of it. She was usually inclined to think that they had found a prettier girl with a thinner frame and more tolerable attitude. Usually, but not tonight. She had faith in Erron.

Erron was the sweetest creature she had ever laid lips on. His hands were practiced and tender, and he treated her just like he treated his violin – carefully, gracefully, like she was precious and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything ever happened to her. He loved the way she hummed when she was busy. At least, that's what he said, and she believed him.

One last glance at her watch, and that faith shattered. She wasn't sure whether she was more disturbed by the fact that he had abandoned her, or that she actually waited around for five hours.

***

The weather had been fair all day, but on the way to the diner, the clouds appeared, and by the time she got there, they were pregnant with potential. She thought it might be a bad omen – the gods' way of letting her know that just this once they were going to be kind to her and let her know this one wasn't the guy for her.

More likely, though, they were probably just trying to trick her into abandoning her potential soulmate.

With a newfound resolve to prove the gods wrong, she stepped into the diner to meet Moraine.

Her eyes scanned the booths, and she found him almost immediately. He was sat near the windows, hunched over a newspaper and sipping on a glass of what she hoped was water.

She had met enough men before to know that pre-date nerves were a waste of time. She confidently approached the booth, and politely coughed when he failed to notice her. Her eyes were sharp on his features, scanning for any indication that he was disappointed with her appearance, but through his wide grin, she couldn't discern any such signals. Maybe she'd have hope for this one too.

Or, if things didn't work out, she'd go gay and that would be the end of it.

***

He chuckled again. They were four hours in and five Long Island's deep. She thought he was charming, and open - and she didn't want to admit that she cared about looks – but gorgeous. She rather liked him.

"No way," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. "He actually told you that he was married?"

"Yeah," she giggled – alcohol made her do that a lot – "but his 'wife' later told me that he'd faked the entire situation just to break up with me."

"Wow, what a loser." He fixed her with a coy smile and her insides melted. "I should take notes just in case."

At first she gasped in shock, but it quickly dissipated into gasping for air through her uncontrollable laughter. "You – you wouldn't dare!"

He shook his head. "I wouldn't. What about the violin guy?"

Her laughter faded almost as quickly as it had come. Moraine's smile lingered for a mere second before he realised his faux pas. "Oh, I apologise. I didn't mean to –"

She waved him off, brushing her hair back behind her ear and facing away from him, trying to hide her embarrassment. "He, uhm. He stood me up, and I was so angry that I cut up his favourite shirt. He stayed away for over a week, and then the police showed up one day telling me he was..."

The silence was sobering. There was a long moment of internal debate, and she suspected Moraine was debating things as well. He was the first to brave the silence.

"You know, we don't have to think about that. Do you want to hear something crazy?"

She nodded her head slightly, still afraid to face him. She heard him move closer, and he whispered into the small space between them. "I think the rain follows me."

She furrowed her brow and faced him with a curious glance. "What?"

He leaned back and shrugged. "Dunno. I've just never seen actual sunlight. It always rains wherever I go."

Valentine could feel the giggle surfacing again. "No way. Really?"

He nodded, suppressing his grin. "Yeah. I calculated it once – the chances of that are less than one millionth, give or take. So it must be that the clouds are following me."

"Ha! I knew there must have been something wrong with you! I was wondering why a well to do guy like you would be single, and it turns out insanity." She leaned over the table and kissed him.

***

She was secretly hoping that the sun would shine at least on her wedding day, and, statistically speaking, it should have, but when she woke up that morning ,she wasn't at all surprised to see a light drizzle outside their bedroom window.

"Well," she muttered to herself, "you can't win 'em all."