Pictures in the rain

Natalya walked around the streets, brining her coat closer to her body to block the chilly wind. Her camera was safely put in her purse. It was a rather cold windy day, the gray clouds covering the entire sky. Not that she minded. In fact she actually preferred it that way. The sun had a way of messing up her pictures. She had decided to go for a walk, in hopes of finding the perfect spot for her assignment. She had a project to do for one of her classes and she was determined to get the best grade.

Natalya, somehow, ended up walking through the park. It was void of noise and people. She kept walking around, looking around for inspiration. She wanted to take a picture not just of something pretty. She wanted it to have a meaning, to be able to create feelings deep within the person who would look at her work. Her thoughts were interrupted by something cold and wet falling on her forehead. She looked up and saw the clouds change from a light gray to a dark, almost black, colour. Soon enough, the rained poured on her and the wind started howling in the sky.

Natalya searched the area for a place to take cover, looking in every direction. Her eyes finally landed on a shelter not too far from where she was standing. She ran, well as much as she could run with her heels, toward it. She let out a deep breath of relief when she stepped on the dry ground. She quickly checked her camera in her bag. Fortunately for her, it seemed like water wasn’t able to reach it. Now she was stuck here until it stops raining. This definitely wasn’t her definition of a good day. She took a mental note to always have an umbrella when she would go out on cloudy days. So lost in her thoughts, she had yet to notice the presence of the man standing beside her.

How the sky had gone from a pleasantly chilly, sunshiny day to this bleak and cold masterpiece, Toris had no clue. Really, he was just strolling along, minding his own business, taking advantage of the peace and quiet that a slow afternoon such as this had to offer, when all of a sudden, the sun vanished behind some clouds and taken whatever warmth was left with it. He hadn’t even brought his camera today, preferring to walk unhindered by the black bag’s weight for once and just enjoy the feel of the cool breeze on his face.

At the sudden drop in temperature and the increased speed of the wind, he paused to adjust his scarf round his neck. His hands were clad in dark gloves, he himself being aware of the accidents that might happen, even if there were no people around. With mild pleasure he caught the scent of rain on its way, having been used to how an oncoming shower smelled like ever since he was a child. However, that did not mean that he liked to get caught outside in the middle of a storm. Realizing in dismay that is was too late to sprint back to his apartment, Toris scanned the grey landscape for somewhere to hide under. Right as he spotted an arched structure somewhere on the edges of the park, the first icy drops splattered on his head, sliding down his scalp and raising goosebumps.

He ran for the steel shelter, everything around him shadowed in the black embrace of the clouds. Panting slightly, he peered out at the growing rainstorm, the white images of the droplets falling down in steady curtains and pattering harshly on the roof of the shelter. The wind moaned, sounding lonesome and frightening. Suddenly, he glimpsed a sight that made his heart stop. A flash of rippling white-blond hair, coming towards him. That hair…that color…there’s only one person I know that has that kind of…is it possible?

It was a girl, a woman that came running into the dry zone. A girl, a woman that he recognized from a long, long time ago. …Natalya…? Toris bit his lip and watched her out of the corner of his eye, fearing what would happen if he turned and addressed her, but also wanting to do so, so very badly. His mind was racing, keeping the same pace as his heart. His stomach started the usual twist of nervousness and stress. Heat climbed up onto his face and he grit his teeth and made up his mind. Don’t do something you’ll regret. It’s up to you to figure out what that something is.

It looked like she hadn’t noticed him yet. It was now or never. He turned. “Excuse me…N-Natalya Arlovskaya? Do you…do you remember me?” His heart was already sinking.

Natalya was soaked and cold, not a good combination for her to start a conversation with some stranger. So when she heard her name coming out from the man she had managed to overlook when she had reach the shelter, she furiously turned her head to glare at him. But then she frowned as a wave of familiarity hit her when she stared into his warm green eyes. It wasn’t unusual for people recognise her and call her by her name. She had been a rather famous model and had her name written on many magazines. But he didn’t look like a fan. Nope, not at all.

Now Natalya was confused. She had this feeling deep down that they had met before, but she could not recall a single memory with him. It wasn’t the first time she had difficulties with her memory, it happened a lot ever since the...accident... She closed her eyes and pushed that memory aside. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. Instead she stared at the mysterious man and bluntly asked "Who are you and how do you know me?" It was straightforward and maybe sounded a bit rude but this is how she acts.

At Natalya’s (for Toris was sure that she was her, sure till the depths of his heart sang her name forlornly) harsh reply, he winced and cast his eyes down, moral falling past the point of no return. The rain seemed to mock him, beating a steady rhythm on the roof, laughing at his failure. The gray-black sky sympathized with him, reflecting his feelings. I should have known! Of course someone like her wouldn’t remember me! I’m no one memorable, no one important. She was a model before. Someone like me is nothing to someone like her. I should just go back home now.

But some fragment of hope still clung to him, and that lone piece prompted him to at least answer her question. “You don’t remember me do you, Natalya?” He chuckled bitterly, resigned. “I’m Toris. Toris Laurinaitis, from Lithuania. All those years back…I never forgot you, you know. I saw your rise to modeling, and I knew when you quit. But nevermind that, I probably sound a bit strange now.” Sighing, he smiled at her, for the last time. “I-I’ll just go now. It was a real pleasure seeing you again.” Toris strode out into the rain.