He was so beautiful, Adam swore he could see wings. The strange beautiful man walked down the street, a few blocks ahead of Adam. He held an umbrella above his head, the steady rain drumming against it in a musical fashion.
To be under that umbrella with him, Adam thought as he leaned his shoulder against the abandoned brick building, his only umbrella the awning above him. He bit his lip as he pondered the other. What his lips would taste like. What his skin would feel like.
His newfound obsession was odd. Adam knew that. He didn't even know the guy's name, let alone a single thing about him. He had talked to him once, while waiting in line in a fast food restaurant. In a day a lot like this one, with dark clouds and heavy rain. Thunder even boomed as if God was in a bowling tournament.
"I feel like I've been standing here for hours," the stranger had mumbled, more to himself than to Adam. A folded yellow umbrella hang from a strap around a supple wrist. Water dripped onto the stained black rug they stood upon.
But Adam responded anyway. Because the stranger was beautiful, with hair like cinnamon and eyes like jade. "Tell me about it. I'm thinking of ditching this place and getting some coffee down the street."
The stranger had just chuckled. That wasn't the response Adam wanted. He had wanted something more inviting. Perhaps a "Sounds good", or possibly even "I could use some coffee. Wanna walk down together?" Because Adam wanted-no, needed-to know this man. Because he was beautiful.
Something clicked. There was endless nights and gray days where the only thing that was in Adam's mind was this stranger. Eyes as green as a spring field floated in his dreams. Perfect lips sang wordless poems in his ears.
Weeks went by without a sighting from the man. And why not? It was a big city. But Adam fretted. Because the memory was fading, as was the beauty. He feared he would forget what he looked like, what he sounded like. Like a smoker, he needed his nicotine. Like a drug addict, he needed his fix. Like an addict, he needed him.
And then this day came, when Adam was sure he would never see him again. He was caught by surprise by the rain. The forecast had said sunshine all day, and it had appeared that way when he left the house. There hadn't been a single cloud in the great blue sky. So he didn't feel the need to bring an umbrella, or even a sweatshirt.
In what seemed like meer minutes, the sky grayed over and rain poured from the sky rapidly. The street was wetted and puddles formed almost instantly.
"Oh shit," Adam had yelled and seeked refuge under the rusted awning, beside a building that had been abandoned since he was a child.
He was deciding on whether he should just go home and call off sick from his part time job at his uncle's garage or to just face the cold downpour when he spotted bright yellow at the corner of his eyes. His heart skipped a beat when he turned and spotted him. The beautiful stranger with the eyes like jade and hair like cinnamon. With his impressive tall height and lean sexy body. Adam's first coherent thought: He was prepared for the rain. His second thought: I have to talk to him. However, Adam froze up and watched the man saunter off down the sidewalk, amongst the crowd of other walkers and bikers, some with umbrellas, some with hats. Others struggling through with neither, like Adam, who had unfortunately trusted the weather man.
When the stranger was becoming nothing more than a yellow dot in the gray scene, Adam felt like screaming. And then he ran. Ran towards the stranger because he had to talk to him. Had to feed the addiction.
Puddles splashed as his worn out sneakers pounded at the pavement. His socks became instantly soaked. His lungs burned and his side ached. It was all distant, though. Like a faded dream. All of his mind was preoccupied with meeting and talking to this man. This figure who had haunted his thoughts and dreams for what seemed like years, but was only two weeks at best.
There was a point when Adam was sure that he wouldn't catch up with him and he would always remain a stranger. When all hope was lost, Adam finally caught up to him and without thinking, clasped a hand on his shoulder. "S-s-stop. P-p-please," Adam stammered through deep heaving breaths. He doubled over and gasped for air.
"Excuse me?" the man said, staring at Adam with disbelief and a slight twinkle of fear.
Adam caught his breath and stood straight. Looked the stranger in the eyes. "You probably don't remember me but-"
"Don't you work at George's Garage down at Main Street?" the man asked.
This caught Adam off guard. "Um...yeah. I'm only part time. My uncle, that's George, he does most of the work."
"George does good work. I won't go anywhere else." The man stuck his hand in his pocket and jingled his change absently. "Is something wrong with my car?"
He goes to Uncle George's garage? And he's been there recently? How did I miss him? Where was I? Adam felt angry, if not a little stupid, at not noticing. But he threw those feelings away for another time. He had to focus on the task at hand.
"No. Look...listen..." Adam sighed and shook his head. He decided to listen to his heart and throw caution to the wind. He reached out and lightly touched the man's exposed forearm. His heart beat heavily against his chest, and Adam wasn't sure if it was from the running or the feel of the skin. "Would you like some coffee, Mr...?"
"Duncan. James Duncan." The man stared at Adam with distrust. "You'll have to excuse me but this is really strange..."
"I know. I'm sorry. But...ever since I first saw you...you're so beautiful..." Adam nearly face-palmed after saying it.
"I'm...what?" James' feautures tightened as he stepped back, jerking his arm back from Adam's touch.
"No, I meant-I'm sorry-that came out wrong." Adam could feel sweat beginning to form under his arms and on his forehead, despite the chill the rain had brought.
James' face screwed into a look of disgust. "Look. I don't know what kind of impression you got from me but I'm not a fag. That's fucking disgusting."
"Huh? What?" Adam's heart was sinking down like a ship in the sea. A wave of despair waved over him. He wasn't sure if he heard the words right.
"I didn't fucking stutter. Get lost." James turned his back on him. "And tell your uncle I'm done with his business. I don't deal with fags."
Rain washed over Adam as he stood in disbelief. The man walked further and further away, the yellow umbrella slowly becoming just another dot in the crowded sidewalks. The wings he had sworn he could see slowly dissolved until the beautiful angel was nothing more than another dirty commonder.
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