Rain, part the first

The smell of cigarettes hung in the air, sicking and sweet, so fresh and new that it was almost possible to see the little cancer trails of smoke still hanging in the air. The night air was cool and calm, the heavy rain bathing the world in blue and grey hues. The evening was young, cars were still caught in rush-hour traffic as Alex walked home, umbrella in hand. Everyone he passed shared the same downcast stance, as if the cobblestone streets were a woman's eyes that could not be avoided without recieving the shame of examining the remainder of her flesh. He was almost home now, almost to the inviting couch that he passed out on every night, alone in the dark, almost to the slight chill of cold air passing under the doorway without inhibition, almost to the oppressive silence of the place he most loved and hated to be.
And she too, was almost home, though she did not know it yet.
Alex had been at work all day, at the coffee shop that he considered his office, writing his weekly report, a new short story everyday, each one being fired into contests and magazines, desperate to make a mark and some cash. The satchel slung over his too-slender shoulders held his one prize possession, a laptop given to him years ago by his family before moving out. It was a little dated, sure, but Alex cherished it and took good care of it; without the uncomfortably small keyboard the laptop held, he was nothing. The young man depended on his writings to get by, to pay the rent and buy the one meal a day that he could afford.
Emma too had been at work all day, though her duty was much more straight-foward. Running. Walking. Moving. She wasn't seeking anything, not running errands or meeting friends or family. Her job didn't pay bills or buy food, but it did purchase a small glimmer of hope, a chance at salvation from that which tormented her daily life.
Strangers in the night, one seeking freedom, the other looking to be tied down, both seeking change. These lost souls would meet under the stormy sky, to achieve a destiny alien to their minds.
Sitting at home, Alex stared out his third-floor apartment window at the rain. The people passing by were less than details to his eyes, focused entirely upon the drops of rain cascading down his window. Monstrous blurs of cars and umbrellas passed by without causing any stir within him, eyes glazed, body poised, at full alert. He dozed off like this, awaking many times to the same sight of rain and mellow grey carpeting.
The young man dreamt of a doorway, floating in an endless space. He didn't exist in this dream, he was just a perspective, a camera angle watching a plain white door, with its brass doorknob and three tiny, uselessly decorative windows lining the top. The rain from his reality seeped into the dreamworld, pouring down from non-existant clouds. The rain slowed to a stop under the door, each drop connecting to another until a sphere was formed. This small orb hovered in the infinite grey space, the door sitting atop it like a giant tower on a watery world.

A metaphor existed here, he was sure. The creative part of his brain wanted to remember this, to thrust it into his fiction somehow. But the majority of his brain was simply entranced by the sight of it. The door was his destiny, he somehow knew. The simple knob seemed to turn itself. But somehow Alex knew that wasn't the case. Someone on the other side was turning it.

And then he awoke with a start. There was no pleasant groggy feeling like swimming through molasses like there usually was when he awoke. Instead, he was at full capacity, like he had never slept at all. He walked over to the door to open it and look outside at the rain, purposefully mirroring his dream.

Knock, knock.

Alex opened the door in a trance, and both parties came to face each other.

One saw a young girl, small and helpless, her long black hair tangled and wet. It clung to her face and back just like her wet shirt stuck to her pale skin. Her arms were folded over her small chest, and it looked like she was on the verge of shivering, as she was biting down on her purple lips. Her deep blue eyes darted back and forth, clearly panicked and nervous.

The other saw the thing she feared most, and also her only hope. The man was a lot weaker than her antagonist, but he was still a man and still not to be trusted. His sandy hair was short, almost a crew cut, and messy, and gentle brown eyes hid behind the frames of his black-rimmed glasses. There was something both worrysome and comforting about his stance, which was calm when most people would be a bit surprised.

A silence lasted a full minute, neither side knowing what to say. It was broken by a gesture. Alex motioned for her to come inside, and apologized for making her stand in the rain.

"Do I know you?"

She trembled. "I...need a place to stay."

Alex led her to the couch while he contemplated what to say. She was younger than he by a few years, easily. 16, maybe? This was a delicate situation on many levels, and he knew to approach it with care.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Eyes cast down, the girl shook her head.

"Well, can I get your name? Just your first name if you aren't comfortable with last names. I don't want to call you 'you' all night."

Without looking up, she mumbled her name.

"Alright, Emma. I'll get you a towel, but make yourself at home. You can stay the night. But you need to find a place to stay or at least explain what is happening tomorrow after you feel a little better. Deal?"

Emma was in no posistion to make demands, so, even with no intention of explaining herself, she agreed with a simple nod.

"My bedroom is upstairs and to the right. Well, I guess I'd better show you where it is." Alex began to walk up the stairs but halted, seeing fear in her eyes.
"Oh, no, I'm not saying we're both gonna sleep there. I'll crash on the couch down here. I usually do anyway if I get into my writing."

She blushed slightly, lowering her head. Alex scratched the back of his neck absentmindedly. A habit, when he didn't know what to say.
"Er...sorry. This is pretty awkward for me too. I should be more careful of what I say. I just want you to be comfortable here. I'm not used to people, really. I kinda keep to myself...So if I say something weird or rude, don't hesitate to let me know."

She nodded submissively and faded into the doorway of his room. She found it to be plain, white, grey, and the bare wood of IKEA furniture. They say you can see into someone's mind by the state of their rooms...did this mean Alex was a horribly plain, tidy man? That thought gave a small degree of comfort to Emma as she sat nervously on his bed.

Alex too was nervous. He wondered what the right thing to do would be. Calling the parents would normally be the case, but he didn't know the number, and the girl clearly ran away for a reason, so returning her to the people causing her grief didn't seem right. Getting the police involved might not be ideal either. Wouldn't they either return the girl to her parents and make things worse or send her away to an orphanage?

Deep in thought, Alex longed for a cigarette, an odd mental habit of his considering he had never smoked.