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Rated: 18+ · Novella · Friendship · #845912
Very rough draft at attempting to string together a few random vingettes.
Rayna




Heavy, dark blue clouds hung low in the sky. Minutes from a downpour, the lines of the scenery became sharper, more defined. The trees hiding the horizon looked artfully drawn in, even the ones slowly swaying with the warm spring breeze. The wind wraped itself around buildings, people, bringing with it the smell of the sea. Somehow, it lacked the salty, fishy smell, but dripped with freshness and life.

She propped herself up on her elbows, letting the wind tousel her long brown hair around her face. Idily trailing her fingers through the cool grass, she studied the contrast between it's fervent green and her pale sun deprived skin. She turned her face to the clouds, and a smile flickered across her lips as her hair continued it's dance on her shoulders. A bloated drop of rain fell, and landed on her forehead, causing a laugh, that had been lodged in her gut, to find it's way up her throat and escape out her mouth.

Laying back on the ground, she smiled at the opening clouds and waited for the downpour. Drops soon began joining the first, letting gravity pull them down to the mirthful girl and around the park she laid in. One after another, they crashed into her, issuing a continuous stream of laughter from her. The rain came more rapidly and she jumped to her feet. Slowly she started, then full force, spining in circles, arms raised to the skies, her bare feet tripping and dancing in the long grass. In minutes she was soaked, her long flowing dress clinging to her curves and legs, but not enough to inhibit her dance or spirit.

Growling thunder rolled in the distance. Waves crashed harder on the shore' the combination of the two stricking a deafening chorus. She ignored Nature's warnings and continued her dance, around and around. A small projectile landed in her path, causing her to stumble to her knees.

"Hey Flowerchild, let's go." A voice called from the shleter of the tress. She looked to the young man hiding beneath an umbrella.

"Aw, Darrin, wait." She reached her arms above her head and spun around once. "I love the rain."

"And lightning would love to strike you." As if to back up his claim, a large cloud overhead broke into an episcenter, lightning flashing out in all directions.

"Whoa." Her smile widened. "That, was cool." Darrin ventured out and took ahold of her arm. "Yeah. Awesome. Let's go."

She let him lead her to the parking lot, deserted but for a lone Fiat, She stood on the passenger side, waiting to be let in. Darrin went to the trunk and pulled out a blanket. Handing it to her, "Here, put this down on the seat."

Before accepting, she shook her body. Looking down at her still soaked dress, she shrugged adn tookt he blanket. "Works for dogs."

"It doesn't work for dogs." Darrin said, unlocking the doors. As he started the car, he looked over to her. "But I prefer wet Rayna smell to wet dog smell."

Playfully slapping his arm she laughed. "Oh, thanks." Absentmindedly combing her fingers through her hair, she watched the storm tossed ocean. "Think we could go down to the beach again? Just for a minute?"

"Sure." Darrin agreed, pulling onto the road. "When it's not storming."

"But..."

"You don't get out much, do you?"

"Nope. They keep me locked in my room."

"Go figure."

She smiled at him, then turned back to the window, watching the wind adn the rain wreak its havoc on the land.

Back at her apartment, Rayna changed into a dry pair of jeans and a cotton t-shirt. She plopped down next to Darrin on the couch, inadvertedly smacking him with her still wet hair.

"Hey, thanks."

"Sorry."

"Liar." He brushed at the wet spot on his shirt.

"Darrin, what is with your fear of water? It's unnatural. Do you even bathe?"



Naomi


I need a cigarette. Plain and straight forward, she never knew where that thought came from. She'd never smoked, never been around a smoker, really. Yet, the thought would break into her brain, simple as that.

She leaned against the brick building where she was waiting, and closed her eyes. She attempted to conjure the way it must feel, to smoke, to inhale the toxins, the tar, the addictives. Knowing the harm you were doing to yourself, and filling your lungs with poison anyway. It's like suicide in fifteen minute intervals, she mused. It seemed so social, acceptable, to stand in groups filled with smoke and smell. So mysterious to stand alone in the partial shadows, white paper and fire to your lips.

Her eyes opened fully in response to a small jab in her side. "Been waiting long?" A toothy smile greeted her.

"Ages," she sighed, stopping herself before attmpting to put out the imaginary cigarette in her hand. She linked arms with the brunette as they started down the sidewalk. "Who are we meeting again?"


Kian


"Ooof." The sound came from a rumpled mish mash of clothes. She kicked it again. Hazel eyes, stupified, tried unsuccessfully to put her into focus.

"Dumbass." She muttered under her breath. She moved her foot back to a ready position, when a hand attached itself to her ankle.

"No more." Slurred out of the figure.

"What are you doing, Kian?"

He closed his eyes again. "Sleeping. Join me?" He moved his hand from her ankle to behind her knee and pushed her forward. Down she came, tumbling over hime. She sat up abruptly, and smacked him square in the chest. "Kian." She growled.

Rubbing his chest, he growled back. "Rayna." He opned one eye, peering at her, and grinned.

Rayna got to her feet, attempting to pull Kian with her. "Ya drunk. Get up. It's five in the afternoon, you can't possibly still be hungover."

"Can be if I didn't stop drinking till noon." His sandy brown hair fell into his face, which hadn't seen a shave in days.

"You're pathetic." She put her hands on her hips and considered him a moment. He was shirtless, and the spot where she had slapped him stood out in red against his light skin. His boxers hung low on his hips, and his feet only had one sock between them. She shook her head, dismayed, and pulled him towards the bathroom. "Shower. Dress. I've got someone here I want you to meet."

Naomi sat in the front room on a sofa covered with various articles of clothing, books, and a few empty bottles of beer. At least, she hoped empty bottles. Surveying the room decorated in the same manner, she muttered to no one "What a housekeeper." The coffee table also boasted an overflowing ashetray, and a half empty pack of Marbrolos. As she listened to the exchange in the bedroom,she considered the cigarettes with interest.

Doubt he'll miss one... She searched the mess until she came across a lighter. She pulled a cigarette from the pack. Pausing, she contemplated what she was about to do, and shrugged. What the hell.

She lit the cigarette,and slowly inhaled.

And coughed. Eyeing the small tube, she sturdied herself, and tried again. WIthout the coughing. A movement to her left caught her eye, and she turned. Rayna stood in the doorway, studying her with interest. Naomi quickly put out the burning contraband, and looked guiltily at Rayna. "I've always wanted to try." She felt her face turning an unflattereing shade of red. "You don't think he'll mind, doyou?"

Rayna raised an eyebrow. "I doubt he'll even notice." She laughed at Naomi's obviously growing chagrin. "You look like a naughty child caught-- well, caught smoking." She finished weakly.

Naomi grinned in spite of herself. "Kinda silly, I know." She started to explain herself, the musing from earlier on smoking, and stopped.

Rayna laughed again, and made her way over the littered floor. "'sides, if you're gonna start smoking, smoke real cigarettes. Camels."

"You smoke?" Naomi looked at her friend in suprise. When Naomi had met Rayna a few weeks before, she struck her as a very green peace earth friendly ozone saving animal loving poster child. She looked at Rayna as though next she'd be saying she owned an SUV.

"I used to. Don't looked so shocked. " She crossed her eyes at Naomi. "I quit in favor of having money for food."

"Expensive habit, huh?" Naomi found herself relaxing, just then noticing how tense the situation had made her. She smiled and leaned back on the couch, immedietly wishing she hadn't. She jumped to her feet.

"What?" Rayna rushed to her. "What what?"

"There's something wet..." She groaned as she picked up the offender: a not so empty bottle of beer.

© Copyright 2004 Tari Telemnar (telemnar at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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