Warmth
It was cold out. She wrapped her scarf around her tightly as the wind blew through her hair violently stinging her cheeks with frost bite. She pulled her long green coat tighter around her and held her mitten clad hands around her as though her arms could shield her from the freeze. Just as she thought it couldn’t get any worse, rain began to fall from the sky; slowly at first, but soon it came down buckets at a time. She cried out in exasperation and ran for the nearest shelter available to her. It was a little road-side pub and she quickly made her way towards it in hopes that they would allow her to simply sit and wait out the storm.
The doors swung closed behind her with a whoosh and she was grateful for the immediate warmth that enveloped her shivering form.
A waiter at the front desk with shoulder length copper hair and green eyes smiled at her. “Would you like something warm to drink?”
The girl nodded timidly. “A hot chocolate would be nice.”
“Sure, you take a seat. I’ll be right back with your hot chocolate.” That said, the young man walked to the back of the pub and disappeared.
The pub was an inviting place. It was homey and comfortable. The lights were bright and warm against the wooden tables and chairs that shone in the light. There were booths lining the walls with dark red leather padding the seats. Each table had an empty beer mug sitting in the middle for decoration.
The waiter returned with the hot chocolate through swinging doors located at the back of the pub and ushered the girl inside to take a seat at one of the spare tables. There were a few others there sitting at the bar to the right facing the opposite wall.
“What were you doing out there?” The waiter asked as she set the hot drink on the table.
“I was walking home.”
“That really is awful weather to be walking in. I’m glad you were close by.”
The girl nodded.
“So, what might I call you?”
“My name’s Shiri.”
Shiri had long clear blond hair that reached her hips. Her eyes were a gray blue set in a slender pale face with small but full pink lips. Shiri was shy and soft spoken, but she was friendly and liked to make new friends.
The waiter’s smile widened. “That’s an interesting name. What does it mean?”
“It’s Hebrew for ‘my song’.” Shiri answered with a polite smile as she took her hot chocolate into her hands.
“I like it.” He said and pulled out the chair next to Shiri and sat in it.
“And you? What’s your name?” The girl asked.
“Rives; It means ‘dweller by the riverbank’.” He said smiling once more.
Shiri was born in Dublin, Ireland to kind parents who were well-off, but not rich. They lived in a humble little house surrounded by grassy plains in a little neighbourhood well off the main street.
Shiri was eighteen, and studying university. She was majoring in graphic design. She specialized in the artistic side of life, contributing with paintings, sketches, and designs for flyers, web sites, signs, and fashion. Her style was elegant, but simple. It was visually alluring and immediately eye-catching.
Shiri played the violin since she was seven and she had played on stage on a few occasions through out her life.
Shiri was patient, loving, friendly, and mature, but she would close herself off to people; Even her friends. She rarely opened up to anyone about herself, preferring to be the shoulder to cry on than the one crying. She didn’t have any great woes, and she figured it wasn’t important to express them verbally. Instead, she expressed herself through her art and her music. She would write her own scores for her violin and play them for her parents, and she would manipulate colors to transmit what she was feeling at the time. Many said she seemed cold sometimes, despite her friendly nature.
Rives seemed to be the complete opposite. He was outgoing (he had sat in the chair next to her while on duty after all), lively, and had bright excited eyes. He looked to be around eighteen or nineteen, and he was a head taller than Shiri at least.
“So, what are you studying?” Shiri asked at last.
Rives grinned at her. “I’m taking the year off to help my dad with the pub and things back home. But I’m planning on becoming a journalist. I like to write, and I wouldn’t mind travelling the world making tour guide books and what not.”
“That sounds fascinating. I’ve always wanted to travel.”
“So why don’t you?”
Shiri looked down at the half empty cup of hot chocolate. “I’m still living with my parents. I’ve been getting along on scholarships until now, but I plan to travel one day.”
“Why not with me?” Rives joked.
Shiri snapped her eyes up at him and couldn’t help but smile. She had liked boys in the past, but they had never seemed to like her. Her love-life thus far had been the least of her worries.
Shiri laughed. “I could design the covers of your books. I’m a graphic designer after all.”
Rives’ eyebrows disappeared under his long bangs. “Oh? Well then, that is perfect. I guess we were made for each other then.”
That statement caught Shiri off guard. Even though she knew Rives was joking, she felt some truth in it. Or maybe she just hoped she did.
“How would you define ‘love’?” She asked just above a whisper. Shiri had a habit of asking odd questions that weren’t usually asked so casually. She usually did it to simply start a conversation or to get to know a person. This time she really wanted to know for the sake of knowing.
Rives looked at her oddly, “Love?” He repeated, “I guess… to me, love is when you meet someone who makes you feel warm inside and out.”
Shiri searched his eyes for any hint of a joke, but they were sincere. She smiled.
“That’s a nice definition.”
Shiri finished her hot chocolate and suddenly remembered why she had walked into the pub in the first place.
“Do you think the storm has quieted?” She asked Rives.
He shrugged and stood from his chair with Shiri after him. They headed for the door of the pub and opened it slowly to find that the rain had stopped, and the sun was peeking out over the clouds.
“That answers your question, I suppose.” Rives said with a smirk.
The girl looked back at him and smiled pleasantly. “I suppose so,” She paused, “I should be getting along. How much do I owe you for the hot chocolate?”
“Nothing if you come back to visit within the next week.” He said grinning ear to ear.
Shiri blushed and stared at her shoes for a moment before looking up and challenging Rives boldly.
“What if I never come back?”
“Then I’ll have to look around for ‘my song’ and track you down.”
Shiri smiled again.
“It was nice meeting you,” She held out her hand, “I’ll be sure to stop by again to have another chat.”
Rives took her hand and shook it with both of his. “It’s a date then.”
Shiri smiled, “A date.”
The girl turned and left the pub with one last wave in Rives’ direction. She left feeling rejuvenated. Despite the horrible weather from before, and her still wet coat, she felt warmth course through her in gentle waves. She couldn’t wait to see Rives again, and she hoped their next talk would be just as good, if not better, than that day’s.
The doors swung closed behind her with a whoosh and she was grateful for the immediate warmth that enveloped her shivering form.
A waiter at the front desk with shoulder length copper hair and green eyes smiled at her. “Would you like something warm to drink?”
The girl nodded timidly. “A hot chocolate would be nice.”
“Sure, you take a seat. I’ll be right back with your hot chocolate.” That said, the young man walked to the back of the pub and disappeared.
The pub was an inviting place. It was homey and comfortable. The lights were bright and warm against the wooden tables and chairs that shone in the light. There were booths lining the walls with dark red leather padding the seats. Each table had an empty beer mug sitting in the middle for decoration.
The waiter returned with the hot chocolate through swinging doors located at the back of the pub and ushered the girl inside to take a seat at one of the spare tables. There were a few others there sitting at the bar to the right facing the opposite wall.
“What were you doing out there?” The waiter asked as she set the hot drink on the table.
“I was walking home.”
“That really is awful weather to be walking in. I’m glad you were close by.”
The girl nodded.
“So, what might I call you?”
“My name’s Shiri.”
Shiri had long clear blond hair that reached her hips. Her eyes were a gray blue set in a slender pale face with small but full pink lips. Shiri was shy and soft spoken, but she was friendly and liked to make new friends.
The waiter’s smile widened. “That’s an interesting name. What does it mean?”
“It’s Hebrew for ‘my song’.” Shiri answered with a polite smile as she took her hot chocolate into her hands.
“I like it.” He said and pulled out the chair next to Shiri and sat in it.
“And you? What’s your name?” The girl asked.
“Rives; It means ‘dweller by the riverbank’.” He said smiling once more.
Shiri was born in Dublin, Ireland to kind parents who were well-off, but not rich. They lived in a humble little house surrounded by grassy plains in a little neighbourhood well off the main street.
Shiri was eighteen, and studying university. She was majoring in graphic design. She specialized in the artistic side of life, contributing with paintings, sketches, and designs for flyers, web sites, signs, and fashion. Her style was elegant, but simple. It was visually alluring and immediately eye-catching.
Shiri played the violin since she was seven and she had played on stage on a few occasions through out her life.
Shiri was patient, loving, friendly, and mature, but she would close herself off to people; Even her friends. She rarely opened up to anyone about herself, preferring to be the shoulder to cry on than the one crying. She didn’t have any great woes, and she figured it wasn’t important to express them verbally. Instead, she expressed herself through her art and her music. She would write her own scores for her violin and play them for her parents, and she would manipulate colors to transmit what she was feeling at the time. Many said she seemed cold sometimes, despite her friendly nature.
Rives seemed to be the complete opposite. He was outgoing (he had sat in the chair next to her while on duty after all), lively, and had bright excited eyes. He looked to be around eighteen or nineteen, and he was a head taller than Shiri at least.
“So, what are you studying?” Shiri asked at last.
Rives grinned at her. “I’m taking the year off to help my dad with the pub and things back home. But I’m planning on becoming a journalist. I like to write, and I wouldn’t mind travelling the world making tour guide books and what not.”
“That sounds fascinating. I’ve always wanted to travel.”
“So why don’t you?”
Shiri looked down at the half empty cup of hot chocolate. “I’m still living with my parents. I’ve been getting along on scholarships until now, but I plan to travel one day.”
“Why not with me?” Rives joked.
Shiri snapped her eyes up at him and couldn’t help but smile. She had liked boys in the past, but they had never seemed to like her. Her love-life thus far had been the least of her worries.
Shiri laughed. “I could design the covers of your books. I’m a graphic designer after all.”
Rives’ eyebrows disappeared under his long bangs. “Oh? Well then, that is perfect. I guess we were made for each other then.”
That statement caught Shiri off guard. Even though she knew Rives was joking, she felt some truth in it. Or maybe she just hoped she did.
“How would you define ‘love’?” She asked just above a whisper. Shiri had a habit of asking odd questions that weren’t usually asked so casually. She usually did it to simply start a conversation or to get to know a person. This time she really wanted to know for the sake of knowing.
Rives looked at her oddly, “Love?” He repeated, “I guess… to me, love is when you meet someone who makes you feel warm inside and out.”
Shiri searched his eyes for any hint of a joke, but they were sincere. She smiled.
“That’s a nice definition.”
Shiri finished her hot chocolate and suddenly remembered why she had walked into the pub in the first place.
“Do you think the storm has quieted?” She asked Rives.
He shrugged and stood from his chair with Shiri after him. They headed for the door of the pub and opened it slowly to find that the rain had stopped, and the sun was peeking out over the clouds.
“That answers your question, I suppose.” Rives said with a smirk.
The girl looked back at him and smiled pleasantly. “I suppose so,” She paused, “I should be getting along. How much do I owe you for the hot chocolate?”
“Nothing if you come back to visit within the next week.” He said grinning ear to ear.
Shiri blushed and stared at her shoes for a moment before looking up and challenging Rives boldly.
“What if I never come back?”
“Then I’ll have to look around for ‘my song’ and track you down.”
Shiri smiled again.
“It was nice meeting you,” She held out her hand, “I’ll be sure to stop by again to have another chat.”
Rives took her hand and shook it with both of his. “It’s a date then.”
Shiri smiled, “A date.”
The girl turned and left the pub with one last wave in Rives’ direction. She left feeling rejuvenated. Despite the horrible weather from before, and her still wet coat, she felt warmth course through her in gentle waves. She couldn’t wait to see Rives again, and she hoped their next talk would be just as good, if not better, than that day’s.
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