Jessica’s apartment became my home as well. I would usually sleep there instead of on the streets. Jessica and I got along pretty well, although I ignored her at times when I felt that she was tapping too far into my past. She kept on trying to get me to talk, to spout out torrents and torrents of my past. I endured, rejecting her blatantly by saying that I don’t want to talk about it. Eventually, she pretty much had enough of the same answer.

One night, when I was fast asleep on the bed, I was jolted awake by the rumbling of thunder and the crackling of lightning. I huddled the blanket closer to my small, frail body for warmth in the cold weather. It was 2 in the morning and Jessica was probably still asleep. I hid my face in the pillows, trying to block out the growling thunder. Despite being out in the open most of the time and spending my time with no protection or shelter from the weather, I had not yet grown accustomed to thunder and lightning. I hated it when there were thunderstorms at night, but it wasn’t as bad at the local bus-stops or train stations; there were passersby who didn’t make me feel alone. Yet in this dark room, I felt nothing but alone. The shadows played tricks on my eyes, dancing around the room in impossible circles. I closed my eyes, shutting the painful images of when I had been tossed about, beaten till the point of unconsciousness, assaulted and abused to no end.

Jessica

My eyes snapped open to a loud, yet quiet wailing from Tiffany’s room. The rain pelted down on the roof as thunder rumbled. Making a mad dash towards Tiffany’s room, my mind was an endless maze of possibilities. All I knew was that I had to get to Tiffany, fast. I barged through the door without knocking, expecting to see Tiffany on her knees, crying while rolling about. Nah, too melodramatic. Probably Tiffany just tossing about in bed. And I was right. Well, almost. Tiffany’s wailed had ceased to whimpers by the time I arrived. Feeling sorry for the poor girl, I walked up to the bed, my hand trailing past the soft fabric of the blanket to Tiffany’s clothed shoulder. I realised that Tiffany was shivering. I held a hand to her forehead just to check if Tiffany was having a fever, but her forehead, even if cold and clammy, was at normal temperature.

“Tiffany,” I shook her shoulder gently.

She mumbled something about erts and whimpered as thunder rumbled again. I gave up when I realised that Tiffany wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon. So, sighing, I straightened my back and walked away. But then something held me back. A warm grip enclosed around my wrist. It didn’t have the strength of any animal, but it had the power above that. I felt her need for someone’s embrace, the need for someone’s care, the need for that someone to be there for her. What saddened me was that that ‘someone’ was still labelled as ‘someone’ and not anyone else’s name. It could’ve been me; it could’ve been anyone else, as long as she had someone to hold her through the thunderstorm. But I held back the though of Tiffany in my arms as we waited for the storm to pass. Sure, we knew each other, but we were still strangers.  As easy as it was to lightly scoop her up in my arms, it was also easy to accept strangers into my apartment.

Tiffany

I woke up, feeling strange. I was cramped in an uncomfortable position that would usually give me backaches. But I felt comfortable, warm even. It wasn’t possible, knowing that I had been cowering from the thunder last night. I was half-asleep, when a blonde angel had come to me. I would’ve laughed. Who would’ve ever thought that an angel could have been blonde? But I nestled into her embrace. In her arms, I never thought I would’ve felt that something burning in my chest. I felt my throat tighten as I thought of the feeling. The more I thought of it, the more I became restless. I slept in her arms all night, but woke up to an empty bed in the morning. The blankets had been pulled up to my chest, and there was no sign that anyone else was in the bed but me. Shrugging and scratching the back of my head, I slipped out of bed.

“Good morning,” Jessica greeted me with a sceptical look as I got out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where Jessica was having her usual cereal.

“Oh, good morning,” I said in reply, seating myself in front of her.

“Aren’t you having breakfast?” she scooped another spoonful of cereal and milk.

I shook my head. “I’m heading out later. I have to look for a job.”

“A job?”

“What do you need a job for?”

“To pay for all these. I can’t just stay here like a freeloader, you know,” I said.

Jessica arched an eyebrow at me, a hand on her chin as she stared at me with searching eyes. She seemed to be thinking of something, I couldn’t be sure what.

“What are you thinking now?” I asked curiously.

“Forget the job. We’re going out today. I need a bigger closet if we’re going to share,” Jessica’s usually glazed eyes were brighter today, sparkling with mischief that was oddly present.

“We’re going…,” Tiffany paused before saying the next word she thought she would never hear again, “shopping?”

Readers’ Note:

Just watched/read Norwegian Wood. I got to say, That Mr. Murakami is really a hell of a writer. He’s officially become my the source of inspiration! Sorry if this was boring, guys. I needed something to lead into something else. Their relationship will eventually progress and develop into something beautiful. Then, I’ll bring in Taeyeon. ;) That’s when the fun starts.

Thank you for reading!

Yours Faithfully
Jazzign