Under your angelic body

The Rain

"Oh, thank god," I whisper quietly as I spot Layla walking along the street far off in the distance. She's wet from the pouring rain. I'm not sure how long I've been driving around the back roads in a desperate attempt to find Layla, but it feels like hours.

I pull my car up alongside Layla, making sure I'm slow and careful as if I'm afraid she'd be spooked by a loud noise and take off in a dead run. Lowering the passenger window, I wait for her to turn her head and acknowledge the presence of my vehicle. It's obvious she is in her peripheral vision, but she doesn't turn around.

"Layla?"

She doesn't respond, but the dark red tint to her face tells me Layla can hear me. Her hair is wet and her shirt soaked through.

"Layla, will you please stop and get in so we can talk?" Without acknowledging me or even turning her head, she says, "I don't want to talk."

With a dramatic sigh, I speed up and pull the car over. I quickly step out and run over to Layla, standing in her path. She stops and crosses her arms, her eyes downcast, refusing to look at me.

"What do you want, Hoseok?"

I try to look into her eyes, even bending down a little, but she refuses to make eye contact. She's embarrased.

As gently as I can, I reach out and lightly place two fingers on her chin, lifting it slowly until I can see her beautiful blue eyes.

She makes a feeble attempt to resist me, her eyes darting around trying to look anywhere except the endless depths of my own, but before she knew what happened she was locked into my brown eyes.

I breath a tiny sigh of relief the moment her eyes fixate on mine. I know I have her trapped, almost as if I have the power to hypnotize.

A shiver runs down my spine as I try to decipher what her eyes are telling me. They reflect confusion. Anger and hurt, but combined with passion and desire.

There is something there that I've never seen before in my life. It's hard to explain what it is, but it has something to do with the way her eyes glimmer when they stare back into mine. Her hurt makes me want to cry, but her passion holds me captive.

I'm wrong. She has trapped me.

The moisture in her eyes make them sparkle all the more. I know. Somehow, I just know.

Before, I only suspected, but it's suddenly all so clear now. She is who I want, and I don't want to wait anymore.

Layla sniffs, "You... you didn't tru..."

I quickly interrupt her, simultaneously taking her hand in mine while the other hand drifts upwards and softly touches her stomach, "Trust you, I know. I didn't trust you. I wanted to, and I should have. I won't ever make that mistake again," I whisper.

I take one long look at Layla, wondering how I could have hurt such a wonderful, beautiful person. Leaning in, I slide both hands roughly behind her head, kissing her hard on the lips.

She almost stumbles backwards, and might have if I wasn't holding on to her. She's completely caught off guard. There is something so heavenly about kissing her in the rain, a tender moment that just couldn't wait. It's that burst of love that is expressed at that moment, not caring if the water soaks through to chill my skin. I have this connection with her that shows the strength of the mutual feeling, the mutual need. It's a rebellion against the elements.

Nature can bring the rain but our inner sunshine comes through just the same.

Her hair has become one with her face, wetly draped over the bone structure that drives me crazy. Her expression is serious. I wonder if she knows how crazy that drives me, how it makes me want to feel every inch of her skin. At this moment, here at the busy intersection, cars rushing past with wipers in full swing, we can't. The passersby melts away, the traffic too, and the moment is ours. For the kiss it's as if we've been transported somewhere heavenly and perhaps if it weren't for the cold rain I might believe we have.

It's more than just a peck. With my eyes closed, my lips remaining on hers, my mouth slightly opens. I kiss the droplets from her lips, and I feel her lips smile against mine. I sweep her hair aside and kiss just over the collarbone. She nibbles at my ear, and then sinks herself into my arms. I hang my fingers on her waistband, dragging her closer. I bury my face in her shoulder curve, my hands flexing around her back. I give a reduced groan. "I'm so happy right now," into her hair.

"How could you think I used you, Layla," I ask her softly, lowering my arms down to her hands again. I'm pretty sure I heard her moan and it's driving me crazy.

"I mean," I hesitate, "I'm sorry. Maybe I did at first, but you should have known I didn't after... after I made an ass of myself. I thought you knew; I thought you could tell..."

She tries to speak, the look of regret on her face makes me think she's trying to apologize, but she's also confused and can't seem to find the right words to say. I know that over the years, I have stricken more girls deaf, dumb, and stupid than I can count, which never fails to make me deviously smirk. But Layla is officially beyond being puzzled and speechless; there's something more going on.

This time, it isn't like enthralling those other girls with my charm. With Layla, it's so much more meaningful and special. I don't laugh; her bewilderment is so fucking adorable and delightful that I instead smile from ear to ear, savoring the amazing moment.

I kiss her again and say, "It's ok, Layla. You don't need to say a single word. I accept your apology. Please accept mine, for everything I've done. For not trusting you like I should have."

She places one hand on the side of my hip and the other along the side of my head. Out of instinct, she gently tilts her head and kisses me back. Her technique isn't exactly normal, at least in the way that other girls have kissed me before, but somehow I find it irresistible. As for the actual kiss... well, I thought my knees were going to buckle.

Where did she learn to kiss like that? Sure, it's the kiss of a rookie, and it's awkward at best. Yet there is something behind it that she does that I just can't explain; it's pure magic.

It's obvious she wants to say something, but she stumbles on her own words. The look of adoration on her face speaks volumes. I wonder if she can read my face the same way I read hers. She might have been known for socially awkward moments and doesn't know what to say, but between her passionate kiss and the desire in her eyes, she doesn't need to say a word.

"Do you really think I'm a radiant angel?" I murmur in her ear, making her blush.

It's impossible for Layla's face to get any redder as I bring forth her own words captured on video. I'm not sure if she can physically speak or not, but at least I catch the slightest of nods.

"So," I say, putting my hands on her hips, twisting her body at the hips, "Are you going to ask me out, or are you just going to stand there?" I tease her.

It takes a few moments, but Layla chuckles, breaking the silence. "Uh, yeah, ...wait," Layla says, seemingly concerned. "What about Jennie?"

Placing my hands on her lower back, I pull her closer and as I cock an eyebrow, I ask her,

"Jennie who?"