How do you Walk in the Rain?

When the rain came, tapping lightly on the window of her 6th floor of her apartment complex, her eyes drifted away from the yellowish pages of the book to answer its call.

Slowly, she uncurled from her position in the sunken chair and lifted the warmth of her blanket. In a sort of wonder, she pulled herself up, stepping barefoot onto the creaking wooden floor. When she reached the window, she placed a hand on the glass pane. A shiver rose up to her teeth from the icy feeling coming off the glass which had been chilled by the rain's music.

A soft smile spread to her eyes as she gazed down over the city covered in earth's cool tears.

She pushed herself away from the window and came to stand by a pair of tall black boots resting next to a red rain jacket.

She pulled the brightly colored jacket over her arms and the boots onto her feet only to wait impatiently for the elevator that would bring her closer to the storm.

She paused at the entrance, holding onto a last moment of warmth, before taking her first steps into the brewing storm.

It was only raining lightly, but she pulled the bright red hood up over her dark brown curls to continue her journey.

Her hands fell deep into the pockets of her coat as she walked. With each step, her black boots disturbed the water of the growing puddles and her mind became lost in listening to the soft sound of the rain against her coat, becoming a rhythm in her head.

Her eyes closed and she breathed in its fresh smell.

Mmm...

A calmness set its clouds around the small woman who was now standing on a bridge, overlooking a river.

Somehow she can feel ok in those moments; standing in the rain...

but soon, the warm smile on her lips turned as cool as the touch of the rain. She pushed her hood back and the rain became one with her.

As the water ran down her cheeks, a figure in the distance watched her smile change.

That someone had, at first, scoffed in disbelief at the sight of someone standing in the rain, but as he walked swiftly across to escape to a dry location, he noticed something in the woman's flawed smile that made it necessary to stop.

Her eyes were still shut, lost in the feeling of the cold water running over her face, when the stranger approached. He paused in front of the woman to extend his black umbrella just over her head, enough to cease the downpour, "You know, the whole point of a rain jacket is to keep you dry."

The young woman's eyes blinked up at the black canopy in surprise, "Hm?"

She turned her head to the umbrella's owner: a man with a stern face and dark eyes. He adjusted his grip on the umbrella and gestured towards the her red coat, "What I mean to say is, if you don't use your hood, what's the point?"

The young woman gazed questioningly at the man, who refused to make eye contact with her, as he shifted uncomfortably while the rain fell around them.

Softly, the warm smile from before reached at the corners of the her lips, "I just wanted to feel the rain in that moment," She laughed quietly, her head tilting ever so slightly back, "Thanks for the umbrella, though."

The young man finally turned his cold eyes to the young woman's bright ones and he wondered how she could be so carefree, as if nothing in the world could taint her.

She was so very much... alive.

The man's brows shot to the top of his forehead and he shook his head, disbelief on his own face while mumbling, "And this is exactly why people get hurt..."