And the Rain Goes On

*
Do you know that feeling?
That moment when you are so used to someone 
When there’s no sparks, no thundering heartbeats, no cheeks heating up
And yet when that person walks away 
Suddenly, you can’t breathe
*

AND THE RAIN GOES ON

*
“Oh, it’s raining.”
She looked up to the gray, cloudy sky; clear brown eyes blinking as a drop of water fell upon the tip of her nose. Soon, another followed on her cheek and yet another drop nearly hitting her right in the eye, forcing her left eyelid to close by reflex.
A soft sigh was heard, and suddenly she yelped, her vision blocked by the heavy material of a jacket much too big for herself. She pulled the piece of clothing away from her face and looked up to her right, where her companion stood and stared at her with a microscopic smile tugging on his lips.
“Come on now, we’re almost there,” he cocked his head a little to the side, and she grinned in response.
“Right, sorry,” the girl replied, pulling the jacket down to slip her arms into the long, long sleeves and wrapped it around her tiny body.
Oh, was she drowning in it. Not that she was complaining.
She pulled the hoodie up and over her head, protecting her honey brown hair. Tilting her face up, she threw another grin at him. “Thanks, by the way.”
A mere nod was what she got in response, but she did not think much about it. Instead, she simply smiled up at her much taller companion, and then they were walking again.
The sound of the rain and the clacking noises of her boots filled her ears as she quickened her pace, trying her best to match his long strides. The rain wasn’t even that heavy, but she would feel bad still, should he caught a cold due to wearing nothing but a long-sleeved shirt under the drizzle.
Not a word was exchanged, but she was used to this silence. Still, she wished for something to say. Random, menial things would be nice, too, as long as it could get her non-talkative companion to—well. Talk. Sometimes, no matter how used she was to him, she still found it hard to start a conversation. Even so, she just—wanted to talk with him. Hear his deep, baritone voice with which, if she was lucky, he would say her name.
The silence between them had taught her something else, though; to pay attention to other things. Smaller things. Those little details she might not be aware of when she got too caught up in trying to form some kind of a conversation.
Like, for one, the mild scent of cigarette mixed with musk and some cologne for male. Aqua, she could tell, as she pulled the jacket tighter around her body, enclosing herself with the scent she always liked. And then there was the way he walked in long strides but at a much slower pace compared to her own, keeping their distance close. She knew she felt a lot giddier than she had the right to.
She turned her head to the side, tilting her face up as her lips parted, but her words died in her throat as soon as she noticed the faraway look cast by those dark eyes, barely hidden by the spectacles her companion was wearing. Her eyes trailed down then, noticing the way his large hand grip his phone inside the left pants pocket, and—
Oh. Right.
With a wry smile, she looked back to the street ahead, pulling the jacket tighter around herself.
She still felt colder anyway.
It was almost too soon when they finally reached her house. Too soon before he simply tilted his head to the side and held out a hand. She knew what he wanted from just the simple gesture, and without a word, took off the borrowed jacket.
He took away whatever warmth was left on her as soon as he took back the now damp clothing and walked away with an awkward smile and no words.
Right. He was never good at goodbyes, wasn’t he?
She looked up to the gray, cloudy sky; clear brown eyes blinking as a drop of water fell upon the tip of her nose. Soon, another followed on her cheek and then another drop hit her right in the eye. It stung, so she closed her eyes, uncaring if the water trailing down from the corner of her eyes were not, in fact, raindrops.
When she opened them again, she could not even see his back anymore. Still, she smiled. She smiled because what little times she got to spend with him were precious, even when they always ended in uncertain partings.
But she smiled, if only on the hopes of next times and somedays.
And the rain kept on falling down upon her face.
*
The thing about hope is…
Most of the times, you simply cannot help yourself.
*

 

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