LeanaDoll's Vampire Journal

LeanaDoll's Journal

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The visit - Till the rain stops falling
08:06 Mar 15 2024
Times Read: 99

He had enough - for today. The dark sky outside tells him it’s late, even though heavy clouds cover the stars.
“It seems that storm is coming, finally,” he whispered to himself, looking around the space where he had lived for... how many years had it been? It’s hard to remember when it feels like an eternity.
Does it?
The raindrops start to fall from the sky, lightly tapping on the window boards like it was trying to whisper. The rolling thunder could be heard from a distance.
“It’s time to call it a night.”
He gets up and prepares for a good night’s sleep but is interrupted by a soft knock on the door. He turns around like he doesn’t believe his ears, his gaze pinned on the main entrance. But it remains silent. Maybe he mistook the noise for the rain? Shaking his head, he turns again and makes a step or two. When he hears it, there is a real knock on the door. “Who could it be?”
His gaze meets the clock on the wall. It showed 2 AM.
“In this hour?” He hesitates, but another knocking sound brings him back to the moment. It sounded like somebody in need. Still not knowing who the visitor could be, he opens the door. Cold air brushed against his face, making his body shiver. But he could feel something more like a billion tiny sparkles flying around. Then he sees her. She was a shadowy figure against the light coming from his apartment. But she was real, flesh and bone. The girl he met on the site. He had no idea how she found him and his place, but she was here - all wet with dripping, long hair, freezing.
“May I?” she asked, her voice shaking, lips almost blue firmly pressing together.
“Oh... of course...” he mumbled like he was under some strange spell. One step aside, and she came in.
“I’ll give you some dry clothes. And something warm to drink.”
He tried hard to remain calm, but his head threatened to explode at any minute. It was her. He had no doubt, even though she looked a bit different from the photos. But those eyes of hers, her lips—he could recognize them every time. But still, he was not able to tell what was so different about her. Was it the reason why he was so nervous?
With his head stuck in the bedroom closet, he desperately tried to find anything that would fit her. He somehow succeeded in the end, holding a plain white long-sleeved shirt. It was much more an act of despair than satisfaction, but better this than nothing.
He made a small stop in the bathroom before returning to the living room.
“Here, take it. You can dry yourself and change. I’ll make you some tea meanwhile.”
She smiled, lightly nodded with acceptance and gratitude, took the towel and shirt, and went straight to the bathroom. He stood behind the counter, thinking.
“Is this for real? What if I find out it’s just a dream and that I fell asleep at my desk some while ago?”
Sure, they communicated with each other for longer than just a month or two, getting to know each other and even talking about meeting in person, but it seemed just like a theoretical idea.

The water started to boil when he noticed the bathroom door only half-closed. They say that curiosity kills the cat. But when he was halfway, she walked out and smiled at him again. Her long hair was still wet as if the drops of rain didn’t want to leave.
“I’m sorry. I should let you know,” she whispered, lowering her head like she had committed a crime.
“I do not mind at all. Quite the opposite, I must admit.” their gazes meet for a split second. “You could stay... for how long do you want.”
She remains silent, somewhat distant, looking out the window.
“... till the rain stops falling. After that, I’ll go.”
He couldn’t find the right words for that something about her presence, but he somehow knew that he didn’t want to let her go. He had the hunch before when they were only writing to each other. Now, it was different. It was something he could almost touch, and the electricity in the air was only growing.
She served herself a cup of tea and took another one for him.
“I want to repay you somehow,” she said silently after a longer while, looking straight into his eyes. She takes her hand in his, barely covering his palm. She led him to the sofa in the living room.
“Sit down, right here.”
He did what she asked—he made himself comfortable on the soft pouch on the ground. She sat close behind his back, lowering herself on the sofa’s edge. Each of her legs slightly touched his shoulders now.
“Just relax. Leave it all on me,” she whispered, her hair tingling on his neck. It was not too hard to let himself go. With her touch on his skin and her scent in his nose, his dream was like a beautiful, slightly blurred magical memory. His body weakened with her care; he felt like a mould under her touch.
The sun was shining through the windows, playfully teasing his face. He slowly opened his eyes, wondering where he was and what had happened. His blurred vision was restored on the edge of the sofa, but his memory was still blurry.
What happened last night? Was it just a dream? This was the last place where she sat. She massaged his neck and back, nothing more. This little was enough for him to fall asleep. By the sun, it must have been 9 AM at least. But he felt fresh like never before. His eyes wandered around as his mind tried to remember every detail from this dream. His heart stopped for a moment when he saw his plain white shirt folded nicely on the sofa.
“... till the rain stops falling. After that, I’ll go.” A distant voice, its sweetness changed to the bitter one just because of a single thing in his mind: she left.
He sits up, still covered in a blanket. She must throw it over him before she vanished. Somewhat distant, he suddenly feels a movement behind his back. And when he turns himself around, his eyes meet hers.

“I changed my mind...”