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The dull roar of rain hitting the roof of the beach house left everything within it feeling grey and muffled, as if it was washing away the sounds within.
Spinel sat on the counter near the front windows, leaning back against the shelves, staring through seemingly at nothing but the falling rain. Her arms are limp next to her, with her legs stretched infront of her.
She sighs and her body seems to deflate even more. There's another moment with nothing but the sound of the rain.
...
A voice cracks through the silence and breaks Spinel's reverie causing her to briefly look like a startled cartoon cat before landing back where she was sitting, the suprise quickly disappearing when she recognizes the voice as Steven.
"You doing okay over there Spinel?' Steven calls from the stairs.
Spinel looks up at him, her face devoid of a smile and lacking any of her staple cartoonish enthusiasm. The sadness written all over her face is a dull aching sadness that you can't help but feel in the bottom of your chest.
Steven walks down the stairs, the sound of his feet on the wood startling noticable even with the rain drowning the rest of the noise seemingly in existance.
Steven makes his way over to Spinel and gestures for her to scoot over. She moves slightly, mostly just hugging her legs to her chest and Steven climbs up to sit with her, looking out the window. She turns to look out as well.
They spend a moment of silence, sharing the dull roar of the storm and the view of a heavy wind highlighted by the rain in it. Steven gently reaches a hand and puts it on her knee. Spinel jumps slighly then her face seems to fall, seeming disappointed in herself about how she reacted.
Stevens voice breaks the silence, his kind and quiet voice, although hardly louder than a whisper, booms like thunder through the quiet house, impossible to ignore, "Whats on your mind?"
Spinel looks almost surprised that he would show concern for her, glancing at him, then sullenly rests her head on her legs and looks out the window again.
Her voice comes out and unlike Steven's, is a struggle to hear, timid and childlike. The rain seems as if it got louder just to silence her without changing at all.
"Memories," she says.
And then it was silence again, heavy as though she had never spoken at all.
Steven stares out the window with her for a few moments longer before responding.
...
"That's all they are...Memories." Steven replies. He seems somber, his face heavy but strong and determined in the dim light. He looks at her and sadly smiles with a gentleness born of understanding.
...
Spinel expected more and slowly turns her head to look at him. He looks as if he's remembering things too. He's staring out the window still bit then turns to meet her eye. There's a deep sadness in his face but he still manages a smile again.
"Want to help me cook dinner? Maybe it can help get your mind off things." Spinel nods slowly and climbs off the counter with him. As Steven walks into the kitchen Spinel quickly grabs onto his arm, wrapping her arms like vines around it and walks with him.
Steven says, with a genuine smile full of kindness growing in his face as he looks down at her, "Let's make something new."
Spinel could swear that the house seemed less grey.
...
The laughter and warmth of the house is impossible to ignore, looking from outside it'd be hard to hear rain over the sound of playful cooking. It would even be hard to remember that a storm even happened.