So I don't give a damn that in every single fucking fanfiction Alex is afraid of storms, in this oneshot he isn't afraid. And if you have a problem with that, then kindly pick yourself up by the seat of your pants and dump yourself into a vat of poison oak.
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Alex was sitting on the couch in his dorm room, watching TV, when John burst in and yelled "ITS RAINING!!!"
Alex immediately yelled, "ITS POURING, THE OLD MAN IS SNORING" which was a ritual of sorts for him and John. They both loved the rain, so whenever a stom would start up, they would sing that out and go play in the rain.
John pulled him up of the couch and outside into the rain. Alex smiled as he smelt the familiar scent and felt the light droplets on his skin. A cold breeze blew by and Alex shivered.
Ever since that hurricane on his island, rain had become his therapy. Most people were surprised to learn that he loved the rain, considering what had happened, but Alex thought of it differently. If it haven't been for the hurricane, then he wouldn't have taken up writing, wouldn't have come to America, wouldn't have gotten a scholarship, wouldn't have gone to collage, wouldn't have met his friends, and wouldn't have met his amazing boyfriend. So all in all, he was thankful of the hurricane for happening.
Rain was his comfort. Alex had some problems in life, ones that prevented him from understanding other people all the time. Like, how did people describe things without colors? Couldn't they taste smells, and see sounds? How could they function without knowing that the smell of a rose tasted like sweet cherry pie and the color white? (Okay now I'm curious, do people not actually taste that when they smell roses?)
Alex thought about this all as he stood with John in the rain. He got off track easily, and now was trying to figure out why he'd started thinking about roses. He slowly tracked his train of thought back to-oh yea! He'd been thinking about how rain was comforting.
The sound of the rain on the roof was a melody without meaning. You could dance to the individual notes that pinged off of rocks, lamposts, pavement, everything around you. The wind wrapped the scent and taste around you in a comforting cocoon and you knew that if it were day, night, morning, evening, Saturday, Wednesday, July, December, whenever it was, the rain would protect you. The water dancers of teardrops would mark your skin until you were consumed with a sense of belonging and passion. Rain was the best thing in the world to Alex. It made him feel alive, the one time he felt he truly belonged here.
John smiled at him as the two of them danced crazily between the cascading droplets. Other students joined them on the grassy circle between dorms and danced too. The rain poured down harder in sheets of water.
Soon, the whirling group of people were soaked through with the falling liquid, their hair damp, clothes wet, and skin freezing. But still they danced, and they danced with glowing cheeks and wide smiles. With bright eyes and twirling arms. Weaving in and out of each other, to the beat of a soundless tune that could be seen by just a few.
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Okay for reals though, do y'all not use colors to describe things and taste smells and smell tastes and see some sound waves? Or is it just me?
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Random One Shots
फैनफिक्शनThis is a collection of one-shots that I have in the back of my binder that I've written when I should be doing schoolwork. They can be anything. They are mostly fanfiction though.
