Moonshadows

A raindrop hit the page I was writing on I looked up, startled. Darkly heavy rainclouds blanketed the sky. The sun was completely blocked, making for an ominously early twilight, and even as I gazed, two more cold drops hit my upturned face.

"Shit," I muttered, hastily closing my notebook and tucking the pen into the spiral binding. Turning off my music, I pulled off my headphones and put all my belongings into the old backpack on the park bench next to me. I only took a moment to stretch before shrugging into my pack and heading off quickly. More droplets fell to earth around me and the rich scent of freshly wetted pavement arose as I emerged from the park and started walking along the streets.

A few people hurried past me, going the opposite direction, hunching their shoulders against the rain that only seemed to be getting started. I sighed and sped up a little. It was quite a ways to my apartment, and I hadn't brought any rain gear to speak of, having not heard anything about any showers due today.

"Shit," I said under my breath again. Well, at least my backpack was mostly waterproof.

I pulled the zipper on my thin little jacket all the way up, but didn't bother putting on the hood. The thing was mostly decorational, and wouldn't do anything to really shield my face. But I did get a little warmth from sticking my hands into the pouch pockets in front.

Well, I thought, blinking up at the clouds again, This is a break from the usual.

The usual being my afternoon in the park, mostly spent writing from the same old bench. For some reason, I was really able to focus there, and a lot of my best work is the product of those outings. Normally, I would write for a good three, or even four hours, before the light started to change and I'd head home to transfer it all from notebook to computer. From there I could tweak it, cut and paste and merge it with the rest of my slowly-emerging novel.

But today, it seemed, my routine was not to be. With as dark as they had made everything, I was surprised that I hadn't noticed the clouds coming in earlier. I could only figure that I must have been so absorbed in my writing that it blinded me to the dramatic change in the light.

Shit, again.

As I crossed the street, I suddenly noticed that the block I was walking through was in almost full darkness. Even thicker clouds had rolled in, adding their own contributions to the downpour, and further smothering the sun. I shivered, not completely from the rain. Benign enough by daytime, the buildings around here seemed much more seedy in this sudden dusk. A distinctly menacing feeling worked its way up my spine, a creepy sensation that emanated from the deep shadows. I realized nervously that I had never walked around this place at night. I had always finished my business well before nightfall, and right now, that seemed like a really wise idea.

I picked up my pace some more, and saw a lamppost up ahead that did something to diminish the dark. More, evenly spaced lights followed it, but they didn't get rid of the nagging sensation of danger that prickled my scalp and quickened my pulse. Twilight was when the predators came out to hunt.

I heard the rumble of their engines long before they appeared. Going slowly because of the rain, they growled up the street behind me. Their headlights were glaring cones of brightness, stretching shadows in front of the parking meters and signposts. I hoped for a second that they might just pass me, but almost immediately I heard them slowing down further. I was all-too aware of the picture I must have made, with my sodden jeans clinging to my legs, ass, and hips, and my similarly-drenched top molded to the curves of my torso.

"Hey, baby!" A rough voice called. I turned my head slightly and saw a guy on a motorcycle grinning at me from beneath a handlebar mustache. Neither he, nor his two buddies on their own motorcycles, were wearing helmets. I guess they must have gotten caught out in the rain as well. Or they thought it would clash with their bad-ass look.

"You want a ride?" One of the others asked. I looked at him briefly and flashed a smile of completely false confidence.

"I'm good. Thanks, though."

The first one snorted. "In this shit? You gotta be kidding."

"Seriously, I'm fine."

"C'mon, baby," the second one insisted, "Let us give you a ride."

Staring straight forward, I shook my head. Why did these people always have to go through the pretenses of being friendly? We all knew what they were really after, and what would happen if I didn't let them have their way. I was so nervous, I felt nauseated, but I tried to keep a cool appearance. One of the first rules of self-defense is to not look like an easy target, right?

"It's only a ride," the third chimed in.

Who was I kidding? At five foot one, and a mere hundred pounds, I don't exactly cut an intimidating figure. On the verge of panic I swung my pack off one shoulder and reached into the front pocket. The bikers watched me a little warily, but the only thing I could find was a ball-point gel pen. They laughed derisively at my pathetic weapon, but I did my best to ignore them, shouldering the second strap again and tucking the pen into my jacket pocket.

"Baby, I'm starting to lose my patience." The mustache guy said. Now his true colors were beginning so show. I swallowed and kept walking. If I could get somewhere with more people...

The third one leered at me. "Maybe you just need a little extra encouragement."

"Maybe you need to fuck off!" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and I was filled with instant regret and sickening fear. What was I thinking? Three angry stares made me quake in my soggy shoes.

Idiot, idiot, idiot!

"You better watch you mouth, you little–"

"Is there a problem here?"

All of our heads turned to the source of the deep voice, and I stopped walking. A man stood on the sidewalk, his hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets. He had to be at least six foot three and he had broad, powerful-looking shoulders. I couldn't tell the color in the dusky light, but his hair was dark and had a wild sort of look to it. His face was still mostly shadowed, though I caught suggestions of fiercely proud features, enough to inspire curiosity about the full picture. He stared at the bikers with a calmness that immediately tipped me off that he was not a man to be messed with.

The bikers didn't seem to notice.

"Naw. No problem at all," mustache guy called back. Though his tone was mild, I heard a definite underlying note of warning. "We're just having a little chat, is all."

"Oh yeah? 'Cause it looked to me more like you were hassling this lady here." The man countered cooly.

"Well maybe you better get your eyes fixed," the second guy snarled. "We weren't 'hassling' nobody."

The man shrugged. "How 'bout we ask the lady what she thinks?" He turned his attention to me then, and even though I could barely see his face, I knew his eyes were on me. I felt a reassuring warmth in that gaze, even as I trembled in fear of the three other men. "What do you say?" He asked me mildly.

"I... I... " Swallowing, I tried again. "They..." It was no good. Words had abandoned me like rats flee a sinking ship.

But the man seemed to find affirmation in my pathetic stutters and he nodded, turning back to the bikers. "Okay, guys. It's about time you ran along now. Buh-bye."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mustache roared. He revved his engine in menacing accompaniment to his words. "I aint going nowhere, you fuckin' prick!"

"Hell, no!" Shouted the third guy.

The second guy looked at both his friends then back at my unexpected ally. "This asshole's really starting to piss me off... I say we teach him a thing or two."

The bikers shared an evil grin and started making as if to dismount their bikes. I felt so scared I thought I might puke. Any relief I might have felt when I first saw the man withered away. I mean, he was big, no question, and he gave off a definite "don't mess" vibe, but there was only one of him, and all three of the bikers were burly, ferocious-looking dudes with definite mean-streaks. More than a match for my would-be rescuer if they all attacked at once.

I felt scummy even thinking it, but I knew that my only viable chance to get out of this mess without being raped, and perhaps worse, would be to make a break for it while the bikers were busy beating the stuffing out of my pal. It didn't help ease the guilt at all to tell myself I'd call the police as soon as I reached safety. The guy would be beaten to a pulp by the time any law enforcement arrived, and the attackers long gone. But all the same, I started mentally preparing myself to run for my life.

Then the man took a step forward and addressed the bikers coldly. "So you wanna fight me, huh?" His voice had a sort of low, growly quality to it all of a sudden. Without really doing anything, he somehow seemed to get bigger. Darker. Scarier. I saw surprise, then unease all three of the biker's expressions. I still couldn't see his face, but they were staring at it as if transfixed, and not in a happy way.

Suddenly one of the bikers looked away and muttered to the others, "It's not even worth it. Let's just get outta here."

Looking slightly ill, the other two nodded and sounded their engines, and before I knew it, they were gone, off roaring down the street. I stared after them in shock. Just like that, it was over?

"Hey, you okay?"

I turned, a little dazed, to my rescuer. "Uh, yeah." I stammered. My brain was still stuck on the bikers' abrupt exit. "What... How did you...?"

He shrugged. "I guess they just decided they didn't want the trouble."

"Yeah, I guess..."

I gave myself a sudden mental smack. What was wrong with me? Who cared why the bikers left? They were gone, and that's all that really mattered. And I here I was second-guessing the guy who'd just saved my ass. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful."

He chuckled, a deep, pleasant sound. "Hey, don't even worry about it. You didn't."

I shifted, feeling awkward. "Well, thank you. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up." I smiled, though a shiver ran through my body at the thought of what had been so close to happening.

"No problem. I'm glad I could help."

"I'm glad, too."

I took a couple steps forward, stopping under a dim light on the side of a building. Maybe interpreting this as a signal it was okay for him to do the same, he approached until he was only a couple feet away, illuminating him fully at last. I couldn't help but stare.

His hair was such a dark brown it was almost black, and on the long side. The rain made it curl slightly, and here and there raindrops dangled, sparkling in the meager light. His face was a mixture of power, masculine beauty, and a sort of primal wildness I'd never seen before. He had bold, black eyebrows, and a strong jaw. His mouth looked hard, though not inflexible, with curving, handsome lips. But it was the eyes that had my real attention. They were YELLOW. Or, at least the closest thing I've ever heard of. They reminded me of the eyes of one of the dogs I'd had growing up, a gold only slightly darkened by a little brown. I had always thought that for a dog, it was one of the best possible looks. On a person, it was both disconcerting and fascinating.

I realized I was gawking like an idiot, but it was hard to tear my gaze away. After a couple breaths more of staring, I managed it. Blushing, I looked down at my feet. Strands of my soaked hair fell forward a little, and I hoped it did something to hide my burning cheeks. There's nothing like realizing you're blushing in front of someone to make you even more embarrassed.

"Anyway," I mumbled. I made myself buck up and look him in the face again. "My name is Selene."

"Selene," he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. He apparently found it to his liking because he smiled, extending his hand. "I'm Rafe."

"It's good to meet you, Rafe." Trying to fight the heady effect his smile was having on me, I smiled back and shook his hand. The instant our skin touched, I felt a shock come from where our hands were clasped, but it was a pleasant sensation. Like a sort of tingling spark that sent warm little echoes up my arm. I studied his hand curiously, noticing how it completely dwarfed my own, and feeling the calluses on his palm and fingers. I noted the small scars, paler than his tanned skin, that crossed the back of his hand and knuckles. Those scars were the mark of a worker. Or a frequent fighter.

Damn it, I was staring again! Guiltily, I looked way up at him to find him regarding me with interest. I blushed again as I realized the handshake was long over, and let go of his hand, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

Oh, man... He must have thought I was a complete loser.

It was definitely time to make a retreat, and save myself further self-inflicted humiliation. The only problem was that despite the rain that had me completely drenched, I didn't want to leave. I mean, you don't meet guys like this every day. Especially if you're unimpressive, introverted little me.

"Um, well, I should probably get going." I eventually said lamely.

"Yeah, it's really coming down now." His unusual topaz eyes scanned the sky briefly before returning to me. "You gonna be okay walking home in this?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. I'm already soaked, so it's not like I have to worry about the rain anymore."

"What I meant was, are you gonna be okay walking by yourself?"

I thought about it a second. On the one hand, I was still a little leery of the darkened streets, and even more than that, I wanted to prolong this interaction with Rafe for as long as possible. But on the other hand, I worried that I'd make an even bigger ass of myself, and erase any possibility of future interaction if I hung around him much longer. Besides, with the night I was having, I wasn't too sure I wanted any stranger to know exactly where I lived. Even the stranger who had just saved me. So I answered, "I'll be fine. It isn't too much further anyway."

"You sure?" He asked earnestly.

I nodded. "Thank you, though."

"Again, no problem."

On a sudden impulse, I pulled the pen from my pocket and reached to grasp Rafe's large hand again. I was half-expecting, and kind of hoping for a repeat of the tingling sensation when I touched him, but it seemed it was a one-time deal. I felt only the comfortable warmth of his skin as I turned his palm up and quickly scrawled my phone number on it. Capping the pen, I let his hand drop and stepped back, my eyes on my shoes.

"That's my number. Just in case, I dunno, you ever want to have lunch or something." My face was practically on fire and my brain was reeling from my completely uncharacteristic boldness. I couldn't so much as look at him, or I was sure I'd expire from embarrassment.

"Lunch, huh?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

I was too nervous to answer.

"I'd like that." He said slowly. From under my lashes, I could see him look at his palm and nod at it. "You'll be hearing from me, then."

Still with my eyes down, I nodded, but even my shyness couldn't completely keep the smile from my lips. "So, I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Definitely."

I smiled a little wider, and gathered the courage to look up at him. He grinned back, the expression making him even more gorgeous. My stomach did a little flip. "Well, bye." I said, then started walking quickly.

He raised his hand in a little parting wave then started off in the opposite direction. "Later."

Oh my God... Oh, my God!

My feet made a rapid beat on the rain-slicked sidewalks, my heart fluttering away in my chest. In the back of my mind, I remembered that I should hurry home, lest other night-prowlers try to pick up where the bikers left off, but in truth, my hurry was more due to excitement than fear.

I had just asked him out! Me! Asking someone like him out! But even more incredible, he actually seemed interested. This was insane! You have to understand, I am deathly shy. So much so that in my nineteen years of life, I'd only been on one other date before, and thanks to my constant blushing and pathetic conversational skills, that ended real fast. When the guy tried to kiss me at the door, I nearly threw up on his shoes I was so nervous. Needless to say, there was no second date.

The rest of the walk home passed uneventfully. My exhilaration was still too fresh for any doubts to intrude, and for some reason, the empty streets didn't seem so threatening anymore. Even when I once thought I heard something behind me and turned to check, I didn't get that same impression of menace as I had before. It was almost like I had an invisible escort, keeping the terrors away.

Still, it was with significant relief that I reached my apartment building. Everything except for a tiny patch on my back that was covered by my bag was soaking, and it was making me cold. I squelched up the flight of stairs to the second story, and dug around in my bag with cold fingers until I found my keys.

The door swung open quietly, and I stepped inside to welcome heat. Throwing the bolt again behind me, I had to take a moment to bask in my good fortune, just leaning with my head against the door and a silly smile on my face.

"Selene?" A voice called from the kitchen. I walked towards it almost in a daze, stopping in the door frame. My housemate turned to me, spoon still in hand from stirring the spaghetti sauce. "You had me worried. It's raining pretty hard out there..." She trailed off as she saw my expression. "Uh... Did something happen?"

My shoes made squishing noises as I went and sat down at the kitchen table. I slung my backpack to the floor next to me then just sat there quietly for a minute as I tried to verbalize my thoughts. "Yes," I answered at last.

Cara switched off the stove and sat down across from me. She raised her eyebrows. "Yeah? And?"

"And... Well, I don't know if you're gonna believe this. I don't know if I believe it myself..."

"Oh, c'mon. Just spit it out. Tell me."

I took a breath and I told her.

A few minutes later, when I had finished, we both sat in silence with Cara just looking at me. Suddenly she let out a whoop and jumped up, "Selene, that's great!" She beamed at me. "And it's about fuckin' time you met someone!"

I was a little taken aback by the force of her reaction, but I couldn't help smiling. "Hey, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I still have plenty of time to screw things up."

"But you're not going to," she said firmly. "You know why?"

I shook my head, confused.

"Because, my dear friend, I'm going to coach you. And you can stop making that face at me. This is going to work. It has to. We have got to get you laid."

"Cara!" My face flushed bright pink.

"What?" She asked with a shrug. "It's true. It'll do you wonders. And it'll probably even help with your writing."

"What the hell does sex have anything to do with my writing?!"

She waved her hand dismissively. "That's not important." I started protesting but she just got louder. "What is important is that you go get changed into something that doesn't drip all over the floor so that we can talk about this over dinner."

"You are absolutely unbelievable!" I exclaimed, trying to hide the affection in my tone.

She returned to the stove but blew me a kiss over her shoulder. "You know it. I still have to make the pasta, so dinner should be in about twenty minutes."

Sighing resignedly, I got up and walked down the hall to my room. After closing and locking the door, I stripped quickly, draping the sodden clothes over the edge of my laundry basket. Goosebumps broke out all over my body from the chilly air on my wet skin, so I went straight for some comfortable underwear, and a warm pair of flannel pajama pants. I figured I'd just go to bed after dinner, so I got one of my sleeping tanktops out and put that on too.