dark academia love stories

reading an old love story in the rain while waiting for your train

We met at the train station one rosey morning. When my lips were stained with coffee and yours with peppermint chapstick. An old book sits in my hand. Caressed by creases and dog eared pages. I always thought that I was so sophisticated. Reading a throw away Jane Austen novel on tube station seats. I wasn't. Not really. I guess living in an anti feminist society isn't exactly the height of intellectuality.

It was cold that day; at the train station. You lent me your scarf and I never gave it back. Forgotten newspapers weeped on stowaway seats. I hate it when it rains. Everyone is suddenly coated in a somber sheen, and my umbrella always breaks. But it was different that morning. Because when my hair ran ragged, and my book seeped with more than tears, you gave me your coat. Told me to use it as an umbrella. Because it wouldn't' break like they usually do.

That blush coloured morning, it was not my umbrella that broke - but my heart. I left it on the platform. With the run down newspapers, and the disregarded train tickets. It washed away with the rain. Dripping like a somber dawn into corroded drain pipes. And I wish - I just wish I waited a little longer for the train. Waited enough time to catch the right one. But I was so desperate to escape the rain it didn't matter. The pink tinted morn, grey in pavement reflections.

I waited everyday at the station, but you never showed. Your grey scarf and trench style coat just an excuse to morph into another hollow sole on the platform. I waited, hoped, dreamed, that you would come. Clad with an unyielding umbrella to brace the unforgiving rain. But alas I walk home alone, with only my book for company. Pretending that the notes drawn in the margin are not my own. I miss you and your peppermint lips, but I miss the rain even more.