‘If I were to define love,
I would say it is
Looking at a person
And seeing a feeling.
If I were to define this feeling,
I would say it is
Looking at you
And seeing love.’
It was raining the day I first met her. I met her in the park near my house. Her dog had run off after a pigeon and I had been there to catch him. It was like love at first sight for me. I simply smiled and accepted her apology before she left; ignoring the pounding of my heart and the sweating of my hands even though it was cold. When I got home I collapsed on my bed and stared at the ceiling; my thoughts filled with her.
I saw her again a week later at school. She had transferred recently and was in a few of my classes. I learned that her name was Sophie. She didn’t seem to remember me…
We started doing poetry in English and soon enough I began to leave lines of poetry in her locker, her friends sometimes agreeing to leave it in her books for me. Her friends said they only did it because they liked seeing her happy each time she read them. It made me smile each time they said so. It warmed my heart.
The lines of poetry and the notes carried on for a few weeks, growing longer and longer until eventually I left full poems. I grew tired of hiding behind words written on paper though. I decided to create my own poem and give it to her, then tell her how I feel face-to-face. I left her a note saying to meet me under the willow in the park we met at. The willow was my favourite tree and had a small stream running near it. I also gave her the poem, leaving it on her desk this time instead of in one of her books or her locker.
I waited for a while that day, standing underneath the willow with a rose in one hand and nerves in the other. It began to rain. I was worried she wouldn’t come since it rained, but she did. I saw her enter the park and look for the willow. I stepped back and hid behind the layers of leaves hanging down. She came towards me and stopped right outside the wall of leaves. I heard a sharp intake of breath before she pulled them back and stepped forth, revealing her to me.
We stared at each other for a few minutes before I go to speak up; she beats me to it. “You’re the boy who caught my dog.” She stated. She remembered me. I nodded slowly, gathering up my nerves so I could speak to her.
“I am, and I’m the one who’s been leaving the notes and the poems. I know this probably seems crazy since I’ve only spoken to you once before; but you make my heart pound and flutter and you make my palms sweat even when it’s cold. You make my mind spin and you take my breath away sometimes. It’s stupid I know, but I think I really like you…” I gushed, going red in the process.
Sophie stared at me for a while, her expression telling me that she was in deep thought. I grew restless, fidgeting with one of the leaves on the rose. “I think… I think I like you too, Kyle.” She said finally, her voice barely audible and mouth lifted into a small smile.
It was raining the day I confessed to her and it was raining the day she confessed to me. It was raining the day we first kissed and it was also raining the day I proposed. Fortunately, it didn’t rain the day we got married. But it rained that night when we cuddle up together and I started to think about how it all began; there in the rain.
YOU ARE READING
There in the RainRomance
All rights go to the owners of the quote (click external link to view it) and to the owners of the pictures. I only take credit for the story itself. Short story I wrote based on a post on tumblr. Nothing grand or fancy, but enjoy!