❝𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧❞ -𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. [COMPLETED]

❝𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧❞

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pitter-patter. pitter-patter.

Footsteps trudge through the wet cobalt road, mud sticking onto the plastic boots the owner just wiped clean earlier.

drip. 

Goes the rain as it started falling down the pavement lightly, creating a dance of some sort and attracting pluviophiles everywhere. 

drip drip drop.

The smell of nature flooded the nostrils of the man running, almost tripping because he was in such a hurry. I wonder what hurries him so? 

He ran and ran and ran. He ran like there was no tomorrow.

please tell me she's still there.

His footsteps picked a faster pace, reaching a bridge connecting his place to the other side. He hid behind the steel cold bars, his hands shivering from the cold as he cautiously looked around the place.

The fog blocked his eyesight, blind to his own surroundings. 

But he knew she was here. 

He knew she was singing at the bridge, her signature red cloak and covered face on display for the whole world to see.

He first discovered her when he was walking his way back home, but stopped when he heard such an angelic voice. 

The voice was so smooth and so clear, so soothing and so melodic, so angelic and so lovely. It felt like she was playing with his mind.

And she was.

He yearned to hear her again. Oh, how he wishes he could see her face, which he knows is as beautiful as her. He peered his head and sees a figure sitting oh so prettilly in the middle of the rain. She was sitting at the edge of the bridge, not afraid to fall whatsoever.

She was just there, singing. 

Her voice was so addicting. 

It was so beautiful. 

Her voice continued to sing, the man getting high on it. He looked at her from afar and felt his heartbeat rise. He felt so warm even though the rain was awfully cold like winter had already passed.

He observed how the rain decorated her red cloak, already soaked from the light rain. He wonders how long she had been singing here.

It wasn't just coincidence, he thought. Every time he hears her singing or feels like she was singing he'd always hear the rain soon after. As a pluviophile, he loved her even more. She always brought rain to that place. 

But it wasn't bad rain. No, It was always so light and so beautiful. Especially with the sight of a red-cloaked girl soaking wet and sitting down on a bridge, the rain accompanying her wonderful singing.

It was weird to think of a girl like this, but the boy really loved her. Her voice was so soothing and is just so heavenly. 

He feels like he was being taken to heaven right now.

As he looked at her from far away, the rain suddenly stopped and the sun peeked from behind the gray clouds. The rain was already done, and so was her singing. 

The man looked over again at the red-cloaked figure and was caught like a deer in headlights. Oh my goodness! What an awkward situation. 

The girl he admired from afar has finally noticed his presence. She was looking at him but he still couldn't see her face. Awkward from the eyes boring into his soul, he stood up and gave her an awkward smile, the girl frozen from her spot.

She looked up at him but her face was still blurry to him. 

He couldn't see her face.

He took one step forward but stopped immediately when the girl was taken aback. It looked like she wasn't used to another presence. 

He frantically waved his hands, telling her through his actions that he didn't mean any harm. She then tilted her head sideways, somehow curious about what the man's intentions are. He sighed and smiled, the girl just nodding slowly.

He took that as a sign to step forward.

step.

He saw how she cautiously looked at him, as if not letting her guard down. 

step.

He saw how quickly she stood up and ran away.

He then sighed and looked down. There was always tomorrow.