When it Rains, It Pours

When it Rains, it Pours

By Gilarnan and AlwaysRonnie

Percival was a respectable sort. He kept to himself, and never made any waves. Today was like any other, except for the gray clouds overhead. Percival was right where he wanted to be on a cloudy day- in his cottage. In his armchair, drinking a warm cup of tea and reading a book. He was halfway through his second cup of tea, when he heard a distant humming. Odd, he thought. Carefully and precisely putting his book on the table, and putting his tea on the saucer, he stood up, straightened his vest, and walked over to the window overlooking his garden. To his utter surprise and bewilderment, she was back! 

The girl who had been picking flowers in his garden weeks earlier, was back! He had two minds on this matter. One- she was the most gorgeous person he had ever seen. And on the other hand- she was picking his flowers! The flowers he worked hours- endless hours- to grow and to tend. He watched as she went to pick his prize iris, and made a strangled gulp noise in the back of his throat. This startled her, and she looked up towards the cottage. 

Upon seeing Percival in the window, she smiled and waved. Then picked his prize Iris, and held it up proudly for him to see. At that moment, Percival thought his soul would leave his body. HIs face went white, and then red, and then white and then red again! Finally, it settled on a flustered shade of pink. Scrambling to get outside, he left his coat and hat still hanging on the rack next to the door. He burst out the door, slamming it behind him. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, and his hooves clicked on the cobblestone path in time with the pounding of his heart. Beauty be damned, he thought, She picked Beatrice, my prized iris! I was going to enter that in the county fair.  He thought to himself as he marched angrily toward her. 

Oblivious to his anger, Chen slowly proceeded towards him as well. She held out the flower in front of her,

“For you!” She said gleefully.

“For me?!” He squeaked in outrage. “You bloody well did it now, didn’t ya! You went and you picked Beatrice! Put her back, PUT HER BACK!” She tilted her head and stifled a giggle.

“You named the flowers?” She asked.

“Not just any flower! Beatrice! Now unhand her!” He shrieked, grabbing the flower from her outstretched hand. She watched him curiously and giggled.

“Also, you can’t put back flowers…” She said, as if she wasn’t entirely sure this was common knowledge to him. 

“I told you last week; this is my garden! All of this is mine! What are you doing here?” He used one hand to gesture wildly at all the flowers around him as he spoke, carefully cradling Beatrice with the other hand, and holding her close to his chest. 

“You can’t own flowers, silly.” She said matter-of-factly.

“I’d like you to leave, now!” He said, stamping his hoof. As he stamped his hoof, a peel of thunder rang through the valley, and seconds later it was pouring rain. 

“Eek!” She squeaked, more startled than anything, “It’s raining!” She observed. 

“How could this get any worse?” He asked, rubbing his face with his free hand. He turned smartly on his heels, towards his cottage, and walked through the mud and the rain, back to the door. And, of course, she followed him. “Go home!” He shouted over his shoulder. 

“It’s raining,” She repeated. 

“Fancy that,” He said, “Now go home.”

“But, It’s raining.” She said. 

“Yes, and?”

“And I live far away.” She twiddled her thumbs, sadly. “I could catch a cold…”

“So sorry,” He said, reaching for the door handle. “Good day,” He said, and he went to enter the house. Only he didn’t enter the house. To his shock and embarrassment, the door was locked. 

He turned around, his face gone red again. “Perfect!” He shouted at her, “I’m locked out.”

“That window is open.” She said, pointing. 

“Does it look like I can fit through that window?” He said exasperatedly. She looked at him, then at the window. She took some measurements with her thumb, and then politely informed him that he would not fit. “I know,” He said, wiping the rain from his face. 

“But I might?” She suggested with a smile. Before he had a chance to object, she was climbing up the side of his house and through the window. Once again, his face went pale as she tore through the ivy that grew up the side of his house. 

Boom. Bang. Crash. 

He winced at every noise. And then there was silence. All you could hear was him swallowing hard. Then the door flew open. 

“DID IT.” She announced proudly. 

“You’re dripping on my floor.” He said, staring at her. She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in, as if it were her home and he was an old friend. He quickly wiped his hooves on the mat outside the door, and walked in, begrudgingly. 

He walked over to the counter of his kitchen, and gently set Beatrice in a cup of water. He tried to ignore the fact that she was watching his every move. Quickly, he turned to his left and walked through a door on the side of his kitchen and slammed it shut. She sat in silence, waiting for him to return. After a few minutes, he emerged from the room, wrapped in a patchwork bathrobe. She shivered, in her wet clothing, wishing she too had a fluffy robe to wrap herself in. He swiftly walked over to his armchair, sat down, picked up his book, and began reading. She followed him, and sat next to the fire, hoping to warm herself. He must have read the same line three or four times, because the chattering of her teeth kept causing him to lose his place. 

“Will you stop that?” He finally huffed. 

“I’ll do my b-b-best,” She stuttered, still shivering. He attempted to read more, but her teeth chattering away made it very difficult, and his guilt started to wear on him. 

Fine! He thought to himself. He stood up and walked into his bedroom, riffled through a few drawers and came back out with some dry clothes she could use. 

“Here,” He said flatly, tossing the clothes on the floor in front of her.

“I’ll treasure these forever,” She said, picking them up, and looking around for someplace to change. Finally deciding that his bedroom would be a good private place, she walked in without invitation.

“But-” He said to deaf ears as the door closed. 

“I’ll be a minute,” She called through the door.

He sat heavily in his armchair, trying to read as he grumbled to himself about how unfair his day had been. After what felt like forever, she re-emerged, wearing his clothing that was just a little too big. She wandered over to the counter and stared at Beatrice. 

“Don’t touch her,” He said without looking, but knowing exactly what she was doing.

“You know,” She replied, “You could keep her forever.” His curiosity peaked. Did she know some kind of magic that would preserve his precious Beatrice? “And I’ll teach you how,” She said mischievously, “For a price.”

“I’ll do anything!” He blurted out without thinking. “What do you want?” He asked, scrambling out of his chair and coming over to her. She smiled sweetly.

“Just a few things,” She said. “A hot cup of tea, maybe one of those pastries over there, your undying loyalty, and finally…” She paused for dramatic effect, “A little kiss.” 

His mind was going through the list as she counted things off, thinking that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s…. A KISS?!? He blushed profusely. 

“On the hand? On the cheek?” He questioned nervously. She shook her head, and pointed at her lips. “But why?” He asked. She simply shrugged.

“You’re cute, and I want a kiss. It’ll be fun!” 

Fun? He thought. He had never kissed anyone, but his mother, and he had never kissed his mother on the lips. This is moving all too fast, He thought, as the world started spinning a little. 

“Have tea, have as many pastries as you want,” He pleaded, “I don’t know about the kiss.” She smiled, and shrugged.

“I guess Beatrice will just have to die then.”

“Wait-” He said, holding out his hand as she was turning away. “Fine, I’ll do it.” His heart leapt at hearing his own words. This was right out of his dreams. Perhaps he should pinch himself, maybe this was a dream? He would never admit it to himself, but he had wanted to kiss her ever since he first saw her picking flowers in his garden. She was gorgeous, why would anyone not want to kiss her?

“Oh, all right then.“ Even through her confidence she blushed hard. “I guess, we’ll kiss.” 

She leaned forward and pursed her lips, unbeknownst to them both their hearts were both racing. He gingerly leaned forward and gently laid his lips atop hers. And then it was over. She backed away giggling, and he was still leaning forward. It took him a moment to come out of the revelry of his very first kiss. He opened his eyes, and saw her munching on a pastry.

“This is pretty tasty,” She said. 

“Th-thank you? I make them myself,” he said. “So.. what’s your name? I’m Percival, but my friends call me Perry.” 

“Gänseblümchen”

“Uh.. bless you?”

“No silly,” She laughed, “That’s my name! People just call me Chen though.”

“I’m so sorry.” He said without thinking. She laughed some more.

“Blame my parents,” She joked. He found himself giggling alongside her. 

“Umm… about Beatrice,” He said, blushing hotly as he remembered the kiss. She finished her pastry, and then wiped her hands on his borrowed pants, and nodded.

“I like to press flowers,” She informed him, “That way you can save them, and look at them forever! I’ll show you,” she said, grabbing a large volume off of his bookshelf.  She showed him how to press his flower, and  included a few of the other flowers she had picked as well.

Maybe today wasn’t a bad day afterall,  He thought as he watched her delicately place the flowers into the book. Indeed, it had not been a bad, rainy day.