Little Darling

Colleen arms herself with her dark umbrella and walks out into the pouring rain that forces the people of Seattle to give up their week-long dream of seeing the sun rise.

"Fuck."

A gust of wind had just ripped the old yellow umbrella from her trembling hands. She never liked the cold. Even less so the rain; well, not when it touches her skin. Chasing after an old object in this weather was not what Colleen would have hoped for this morning. If her brother hadn't called her, she might not have even known it was raining. Her bedroom curtains are drawn in the morning, her bathroom and kitchen have no windows. The other rooms in her apartment are there only to entertain her friends who come to see her, often unannounced.

Jackson must have had a good reason. When she finally grabs the umbrella, it was no longer of any use, Colleen is wet to the skin and her hair is heavy from the water. Frankly, Jackson should have a damn good reason. The only good decision was not to take his phone. He wouldn't have been able to stand the ride.

Taking a cab as she is would be useless. She might as well walk and increase her hatred for her brother. She has to remember to feed Marco Polo when she comes home, her goldfish.

It seemed like it never rained as much in the city as when she was in this situation. The umbrella clutched in her hand dragged its pointed end across the sidewalk where no one was, allowing Colleen to walk quickly.

When she reached the corner of her brother's apartment, the flow of water falling from the sky weakened. Her boots were a throwaway after that drive. With all the hate she could muster, Colleen knocks loudly on her brother's door. No one answers. She repeats the action but again, no one comes to open the door. If she had enough energy, she would have kicked the door open like Derek often did when he entered a suspect's house.

"Excuse me."

She did not hear anything. Anger blocked her ears and, no doubt, her mind. With the flat of her hand, she banged against the door, hoping that Jackson, her brother, was playing a good joke on her.

"Excuse me."

This time the stranger taps her on the shoulder. A furious Colleen turned, her hand raised ready to hit this despicable individual who had come to disturb her. He was barely thinner than she was. The young man's short, black hair was as wet as Colleen's long curls. He was not wet. Not at all, in fact, except for his hair, as if he'd just taken a shower. The moment

she saw his eyes, she knew something had changed. It was as if she was no longer wet from head to toe, as if her brother had not stood her up, as if she had just discovered the eighth wonder of the world.

The young man had much the same reaction, except he wasn't as passionate as she was. He only thought that maybe she would be the one.

"Can I help you?"

Being at her best was no longer on the agenda. Maybe she could save her character. So, she serves him her best smile while having the corners of her lips shaking with cold.

"My name is Aidan, I just moved to this town and I need the post office, please?"

He also displays his best smile. He knows that he has physical assets that play in his favor. Why not take advantage of it with her? Most of the time, he didn't even mention that he already has one on his arm. "The post office?" The girl asks, squinting at the passing of a flash in the distance. "Yeah." Running a hand over her forehead, Colleen replies, "I think it's closed. It's Saturday afternoon." The young man closes his eyes as he bellows, "Ah shit.

He looked seriously annoyed. Poor guy, she thought.

"Do you need to send mail?"

"Yeah. To my aunt."

"It's unfortunate."

The two of them stood there in silence in front of Jackson's post, not realizing that the rain had clearly abated. Colleen looks at her shoes while Aidan looks at the hair of the lady in front of her. It was brown, almost black, and some of the strands were falling as if released from their grip.

"You didn't tell me your name."

The girl looks up at her interlocutor and sees him smiling.

"Colleen, Colleen Smith."

She holds out an icy hand to him, which he serves. The contrast between the warm, young man's hand and Colleen's cold one gives him chills. He keeps eye contact while smiling.

"Aidan, Aidan Choi."

He has an Asian look, but now she's sure of it.

"Where are you from?"

"Excuse me?"

He was used to questions about his ethnicity, but he didn't like that it was a primary issue in the conversation.

"You said you just moved to Seattle, I'm asking you where you're from."

"Oh, Boston."

"What brings you across the country?"

"Oh, I needed a change of scenery."

Something told her that Aidan wasn't telling her the whole truth about coming to Seattle. But who is she to judge him?

"I see."

At that moment, she looks up at the sky and sees that the rain has stopped. "It's time for me to go." Aidan does the same and smiles at her. "I'm glad I met you in Colleen. See you around."

He winks at her and walks away in the opposite direction. She walks away with a smile on her face, forgetting the affront her brother dared to make to her.

Two weeks don't go by and here she is again, across the street from Aidan, this time at the supermarket. Colleen has two gallons of milk, one under each arm, a bag of garlic in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. This time her clothes are perfectly dry, and he is pushing a cart full of groceries ranging from vegetables she has never seen before to different types of bread in their respective packages.

"Hey! Colleen right?"

"Colleen, right? " she holds back from wincing and once again, offers him her best smile.

"Yeah, Aidan right?"

"Sure."

She knew it, that his name was Aidan Choi. She even tried searching his name on Facebook, but none of the seventy-eight results matched the man in front of her.

He hadn't forgotten her name either. Colleen Smith. For some reason he couldn't explain, she'd come up in his thoughts often over the past couple of weeks. But he shouldn't let her see that he did. Better to play it aloof.

Colleen arms herself with her umbrella and walks out into the pouring rain that forces the people of Seattle to give up their week-long dream of seeing the sun rise.

"Fuck."

A gust of wind had just ripped the old yellow umbrella from her trembling hands. She never liked the cold. Even less so the rain; well, not when it touches her skin. Chasing after an old object in this weather was not what Colleen would have hoped for this morning. If her brother hadn't called her, she might not have even known it was raining. Her bedroom curtains are drawn in the morning, her bathroom and kitchen have no windows. The other rooms in her apartment are there only to entertain her friends who come to see her, often unannounced.

Jackson must have had a good reason. When she finally grabs the umbrella, it was no longer of any use, Colleen is wet to the skin and her hair is heavy from the water. Frankly, Jackson should have a damn good reason. The only good decision was not to take his phone. He wouldn't have been able to stand the ride.

Taking a cab as she is would be useless. She might as well walk and increase her hatred for her brother. She has to remember to feed Marco Polo when she comes home, her goldfish.

It seemed like it never rained as much in the city as when she was in this situation. The umbrella clutched in her hand dragged its pointed end across the sidewalk where no one was, allowing Colleen to walk quickly.

When she reached the corner of her brother's apartment, the flow of water falling from the sky weakened. Her boots were a throwaway after that drive. With all the hate she could muster, Colleen knocks loudly on her brother's door. No one answers. She repeats the action but again, no one comes to open the door. If she had enough energy, she would have kicked the door open like Derek often did when he entered a suspect's house.

"Excuse me."

She did not hear anything. Anger blocked her ears and, no doubt, her mind. With the flat of her hand, she banged against the door, hoping that Jackson, her brother, was playing a good joke on her.

"Excuse me."

This time the stranger taps her on the shoulder. A furious Colleen turned, her hand raised ready to hit this despicable individual who had come to disturb her. He was barely thinner than she was. The young man's short, black hair was as wet as Colleen's long curls. He was not wet. Not at all, in fact, except for his hair, as if he'd just taken a shower. The moment

she saw his eyes, she knew something had changed. It was as if she was no longer wet from head to toe, as if her brother had not stood her up, as if she had just discovered the eighth wonder of the world.

The young man had much the same reaction, except he wasn't as passionate as she was. He only thought that maybe she would be the one.

"Can I help you?"

Being at her best was no longer on the agenda. Maybe she could save her character. So, she serves him her best smile while having the corners of her lips shaking with cold.

"My name is Aidan, I just moved to this town and I need the post office, please?"

He also displays his best smile. He knows that he has physical assets that play in his favor. Why not take advantage of it with her? Most of the time, he didn't even mention that he already has one on his arm. "The post office?" The girl asks, squinting at the passing of a flash in the distance. "Yeah." Running a hand over her forehead, Colleen replies, "I think it's closed. It's Saturday afternoon." The young man closes his eyes as he bellows, "Ah shit.

He looked seriously annoyed. Poor guy, she thought.

"Do you need to send mail?"

"Yeah. To my aunt."

"It's unfortunate."

The two of them stood there in silence in front of Jackson's post, not realizing that the rain had clearly abated. Colleen looks at her shoes while Aidan looks at the hair of the lady in front of her. It was brown, almost black, and some of the strands were falling as if released from their grip.

"You didn't tell me your name."

The girl looks up at her interlocutor and sees him smiling.

"Colleen, Colleen Smith."

She holds out an icy hand to him, which he serves. The contrast between the warm, young man's hand and Colleen's cold one gives him chills. He keeps eye contact while smiling.

"Aidan, Aidan Choi."

He has an Asian look, but now she's sure of it.

"Where are you from?"

"Excuse me?"

He was used to questions about his ethnicity, but he didn't like that it was a primary issue in the conversation.

"You said you just moved to Seattle, I'm asking you where you're from."

"Oh, Boston."

"What brings you across the country?"

"Oh, I needed a change of scenery."

Something told her that Aidan wasn't telling her the whole truth about coming to Seattle. But who is she to judge him?

"I see."

At that moment, she looks up at the sky and sees that the rain has stopped. "It's time for me to go." Aidan does the same and smiles at her. "I'm glad I met you in Colleen. See you around."

He winks at her and walks away in the opposite direction. She walks away with a smile on her face, forgetting the affront her brother dared to make to her.

Two weeks don't go by and here she is again, across the street from Aidan, this time at the supermarket. Colleen has two gallons of milk, one under each arm, a bag of garlic in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. This time her clothes are perfectly dry, and he is pushing a cart full of groceries ranging from vegetables she has never seen before to different types of bread in their respective packages.

"Hey! Colleen right?"

"Colleen, right? " she holds back from wincing and once again, offers him her best smile.

"Yeah, Aidan right?"

"Sure."

She knew it, that his name was Aidan Choi. She even tried searching his name on Facebook, but none of the seventy-eight results matched the man in front of her.

He hadn't forgotten her name either. Colleen Smith. For some reason he couldn't explain, she'd come up in his thoughts often over the past couple of weeks. But he shouldn't let her see that he did. Better to play it aloof.

They smile at each other again, standing in the middle of the household products aisle. Without thinking, or rather, with the thought of not wanting to let this opportunity pass, Colleen serves him another beautiful smile and offers to come to her house for dinner the next afternoon. He would be delighted. They exchange numbers and go about their business.They smile at each other again, standing in the middle of the household products aisle. Without thinking, or rather, with the thought of not wanting to let this opportunity pass, Colleen serves him another beautiful smile and offers to come to her house for dinner the next afternoon. He would be delighted. They exchange numbers and go about their business.