Boboiboy Husband Scenarios♥ [✔]

❤Until the next Rain come･ﾟ*｡☆

a simple special gift, dedicated from me to all of you. Thank you for reading this book, waiting me from my outstretched hiatus, even supporting me to the very end of this book. I can't thank you guys enough.

this is the last chapter

enjoy❤

"51 days."

Time passed by without I even noticed. Cruelly leaving me gasping, begging to be stopped.

Freeze.

"He won't make it. Our leader won't make it." the soft voice of Yaya whispering outside the room can be heard. Telling the news to everyone of the gang.

"He didn't deserve this. There must be any other way!" A harshed whisper retorts, none other from the arrogant, narcissist alien. But it's heartening to know he actually cares.

"Fang." The young bespectacled sweetheart grip his shoulder firmly. as if trying to remind him to calm down. Fang gritted his teeth, but what can he do? It's too late now, the damaged is done.

Soon later, a soft sniff can be heard from the eldest indian boy in the group. His bestfriend. All of them held their heads down, lamenting. Mourning silently. They have no choice but to accept the cruel fact,

That their leader will be hoping on them next to keep on this legacy, to protect what is left.

Without waiting any other words, the orange cap is taken away from the desk. The orange vest zipped up half to the chest and the needles piercing through his skin is pulled out, quickly he pressing down his pierced skin with his thumb, not wanting to mess the place with his blood trail. Summoning his wind elemental, he left the room, curtain window swishing at his might.

Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but now is changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade beginning to darken into gravel gray. Uninvinting, unlike the time earlier when fleeing out, away from the reek of medicine in the ward.

Once my foot step down under the bus stop roof, the rain pour down, mercilessly drenching anything that is unsheltered--merciless.

But it aren't that bad, those rain, who knows if it's not because of them, some deserted places won't have their crops to be harvested again this year. Those who begging for water will be dead, dehydrated. Those flowers will be wilt to dry, unloved.

Even a soul, when it was not rained with positivity, will crumble to dead as well.

A sigh broken out the harmonization of the pelting rain, drumming against the roof. Good metres away from me was a girl--probably around my age, she have her arms wrapped around herself. Giving a hard, grumpy stare, away infront of her. Probably uncomfartable with the state she was in, being one of the victim from the merciless downpour.

Gulping down my courage, I spoke.

"What's with that long face?"

Her eyes widen in shock, realization hits her that she's not alone under the same roof. Feeling like I have to lessen the tension, the corner of my lips pulled up, giving a reassuring smile.

She smiled back, softly, before grunting, "No reason much. Just a little annoyed that I'm drenching wet." she sighed. "I love rain." I hummed much to her dismay I can see her frowning at the statement.

"Why? It's makes you cold and wet. Shirt sticking to your skin and hair all soggy. And the shoes too!" She rants out her list of complaints as I shook my head, somehow amused at her passion of hatred towards my favourite weather.