waiting for the rain
feeling the blood on his fingers
It started this way, with stolen moments and butterfly kisses, his fingers cradling her face and hers curled against his chest. At night, they would lie tangled together under the sweaty sheets, as the stars shone darkly above. But when the first rays of morning light trickled through the dusty drapes, she would rise with a weary conscience, apprehension etched into every line on her face.
It's okay, he said, the first time it happened. If neither of us say anything, nobody will know. It was obvious she didn't believe him, but she agreed uneasily and they parted ways. Let's just forget this ever happened. Her final words echoed in his mind.
They left each other with heavy hearts and a palpable air of mistrust.
It was just one night that became so much more.
/
He found it hard to focus on his daily activities, and his mind was full of her – because he was never the type to forget. He remembered everything, from her red hair to the arch of her back, the curve of her chin and her wide green eyes framed with thick, dark lashes.
She avoided him successfully for a few days, until he finally caught a glimpse of her heading towards the war council, her arms full of scrolls. He ran up to her and touched her arm, shocking her into releasing the contents of her arms. She gave a soft, startled gasp, until she sighted him and looked away with a muttered "watch it," before gathering all her scrolls and leaving without another word. He watched her hurry away mutedly, and after she disappeared into the tent he headed down to the arena and beheaded a dummy in his anger.
She oughtn't be able to affect his emotions like that. He was a fly caught in her web, unintentional prey that, once tangled, could never escape.
/
Another night saw her slipping back into his tent, planting feather-light kisses on his collarbone that roused him from his sleep. Just once more, she whispered to him in the dark, resting a finger on his lips to remind him to stay silent. Okay, he shivered, knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist her even if he wanted to.
She lifted one of his hands and placed it over her heart, so that he could feel her steadily thrumming heartbeat. Feel it, she breathed, and they remained silent for awhile, nothing but their heavy breathing and the thu-thump of their hearts permeating the darkness.
When dawn came, she was gone again, without even the slightest trace of her having been there.
/
She wasn't like anyone he had ever met. Normal people didn't paint with their feet or listen to alt rock or sit in the rain, but she did. He was scrambling back to his tent as the heavens started pouring above them, and on the way he saw her sitting in the fields, just calmly sitting there, even as the rain soaked her.
He tapped her on the shoulder, and for once, she didn't flinch, only turning to smile at him. "Isn't it wonderful?" he could barely hear her over the pounding rain. He shrugged, and she stood up, stretching out her arms and starting to twirl.
Be it, she whispered, and this time he could hear her crystal-clear.
/
"Why do you like dandelions?" he asked her curiously one day, after watching her pluck flower after flower and sending the little seeds on their way with a short puff of breath.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining, her hands full of the rubbery green stems. "They give me a taste of freedom," she said, smiling. "Here, you try."
He took one of the dandelions from her. "Um . . . "
She laughed. "Blow it, silly." Looking unsurely at her, he gave a tentative little puff, which sent the seeds spinning across to her, through the air. She smiled at him, but he only furrowed his brow.
"Not much point in it, is there?"
"Come on," she complained. "Well . . . think of them as wishes. Imagine you're blowing your wishes to the world so that they can be fulfilled."
"My wishlitst is currently blank," he informed her.
"Hm . . . little blank. I like the sound of that." She handed him another dandelion with a wry smile. "That one's called 'little blank.'"
He smiled, too, and when she turned away, slipped Little Blank into his pocket, so he could treasure it forever.
/
The first time he saw her with another, he lost all control.
One moment, he was watching her kiss another boy with hate thrumming through his veins, in the other, he was on the floor, bringing his fist crashing repeatedly down on the other boy's jaw.
The sky above them crashed, and she was shouting his name, fingers scrabbling desperately at his shoulders, trying to get him to stop. When he was brought to his senses suddenly, his grip went slack, and he stared down at his bloodstained fist in surprise, then looked into the bloody, broken face of Dakota.
"What is wrong with you?" she screamed at him, as he sat there, dazed and confused. "What in the world possessed you to do that?"
"He was practically eating your face," he tried to explain, but in his defense, that sounded weak.
It was starting to pour now, but she didn't halt in her tirade, shouting and yelling and slapping him. He didn't resist, as he never did, just sat there, taking it all in.
Then Dakota groaned, and her eyes flashed to him, helping him to his feet and asking him concernedly whether he was alright. He was incomprehensibly stammering, and with a sharp glare in his direction she slipped one of Dakota's arms around her neck, supporting him towards the infirmary.
Rachel, he whispered, reaching for her with the blood smeared across his fingertips. Rachel . . .
She didn't look back.
The rain mixed with the trickles of blood on his face, streaking down his cheeks and giving off the impression that he was crying blood. And for the pain inside of him, he might as well have been.
/
She didn't come that night, and that was when he knew that he had lost her.
/
He headed out to the fields where they'd been blowing dandelions together, and when he was sure he was alone, he lifted the dandelion she'd given him to his lips and blew, watching the seeds scatter to the winds.
Fly away, little blank!
Then he sat back, stared at the sky, and waited and waited, but the rain didn't arrive.
a/n – for the Easter fic exchange on the Association of Crazy People, for Code Purple and her magnificent prompts(: OctavianRachel, even though it was not very clear, because that's my new OTP ;) and I know, virgin Oracle and all that, but, um, let's just say this is AU, mmkay? ^^;
thanks for reading, and please do not alert or favourite without reviewing.