Rain Drabble
//In this drabble I decided to try a new style of writing that resembles the style of an author I like, Cormac McCarthy. It is very simple when it comes to dialogue and grammar (Although I myself kept my grammar up here); the only thing that marks the gigantic difference between this and McCarthy's style is that he writes fantastic, very detailed descriptive sentences to balance the simplicity. Whereas I will not here. xD
Outside the window rain was falling. He watched the beads slowly creep down the windowpane in a messy pattern, running into others along unmarked paths. They distorted the view beyond the castle, beyond the pane of glass. He looked away from window and the blurry reflection of neon bright lights for a moment. It was quiet. He sat alone feeling tired. His mind subconsciously strayed from the rain and the window and the odd city below. This was a good spot. He could see everything from here.
The rain was not heavy or pouring, but it was not a light drizzle either. It fell at a steady pace in the dark world, visible only because of the lights present. If it wasn't for the light, the shimmer of the water would not be visible, and all they would have is its sound. At least it was a calm sound, like a steady beat. He enjoyed the rain. The rain made people tired and calm; the rain promised a relaxing day. If one has the rain to think about and listen to, why be troubled by anything or anyone else? That was the good thing about the present. He thought, why worry about the past or future? That's what made people unhappy. So why stress yourself out by worrying about it?
Falling rain. A light blinking in the distance. No sign of anyone else.
In staring out the window trapped in thought, he noticed his line of sight had fallen onto a figure a ways below. Another figure cloaked in black sat alone on one of the steps in the garden, not far from the door down on the balcony. This caught his interest a bit. No one went out in the rain, and he could only think of one Nobody that went into the garden.
He took to watching the figure get rained on. Then, after a minute or two of contemplation, he decided to rise from his seat. He made his way out of the empty room and down stairs while the other remained, presumably, outside in the rain.
It was still raining when he got down to the level of the garden and stood just behind the gigantic double door. The rain was audible from the other side, just as it was from the window. He wasn't really meant to go into this part of the castle--not that it was ever a spoken rule, it was more like a feeling he got. But something drove him on. It was a gut feeling. It was something he felt like doing.
The door opened at his push and the volume of the rain skyrocketed as he was brought outside into the mucky atmosphere.
Why are you sitting in the rain? You're getting soaked.
The figure turned his head slightly to acknowledge the sound of his voice, but he could not see an inch of his face. Only the soaked, rosy hair flat against him.
It was not an invitation but he took it as one and stepped out from beneath the cover of the castle doorway. Though the air was moist and the rain falling, not a drop of water touched his skin. He walked over to where the other sat and abruptly sat himself down beside him. It was a bold move.
He did not normally make such moves. Something about this scene was different though. Maybe it was the rain. The rain was calm.
You like the rain?
Only the pitter patter of water against stone and water against leather answered his question. He was used to being ignored. The flowers looked like they were enjoying the weather at least, bobbing and swaying lightly with each falling drop. Dancing in the rain.
Not particularly. He said. The rain brings nourishment, cleanliness. It is good for the plants.
He could agree that the other was right. Personally, he loved the rain. The rain was just what you'd expect it to be. But this scene still struck him as an odd one, perhaps it was because it was one he would have never envisioned actually happening.
Why sit out in the rain then?
He was going to ask if the other needed to soak up nourishment too, but that would be a dumb question, and a poor joke to boot. One that he was sure the Nobody wouldn't appreciate. Still. The figure sat like a solemn statue in the rain, but his eyes were calculating and relaxed-- Which really contradicted one another entirely, so how was it even possible?
Your hair is wet.
It is.
The sound of rain became lighter and almost immediately the figure took notice and the thick concentration concealing the blue of his eye vanished as if a shroud had been removed. The rain only fell around him now, curving in it's path, no longer striking his body. Only the water left behind rolled down his coat and dripped idly from his plastered bangs.
No point in catching a cold.
We have a higher immunity to disease you know. Catching something as insignificant as a "cold" is nearly impossible.
You're welcome.
Why?
So we'll be dry.
I could have easily moved myself, or gone into the castle.
Okay.
Okay what?
Nothing, just okay.