She stared wistfully out the window. She hated it, this city life that they were forced in, and he knew she would. For a moment, he regretted even asking her to come with him. However, leaving her behind would have been just as bad, if not worse.
Crammed in a tiny apartment in the middle of Boston, nothing but concrete walls and buildings stretched before their view through the window. Car horns and sirens blared in the distance, making quiet days like these still so loud to their untrained ears. It was raining and the raindrops covering the window panes morphed the dull buildings into grotesque shapes that seemed so unnatural, so out of place that it made his skin crawl. The shapes themselves seemed to scream for freedom from this dreary place.
She let out a soft, disappointed sigh as she rested her hand on the windowsill. She began to drum her fingers, as if she were trying to match the rhythm of the rain subconsciously. She stopped moments later, her fingers unable to keep up with the heavy downpour. Looking at her eyes, he could tell that this only upset her more because it made her remember the gentle rain of the countryside. Rain she could keep up with, rain she could dance to. Rain that would embrace you whenever you stepped outside, instead of this heavy rain in the city that had no empathy for anyone.
He saw that same look of defeat the first day they arrived in the city. She was silent throughout the entire car ride, and he continuously tried to console her by saying that they did not have to stay in the city forever. This was just for a greater job opportunity, he said. Those came and went all the time. However, it was clear that his comfort did not ease her. After his efforts failed countless times, he too grew quiet. He knew her heart was aching because of his decision. It was possible that she would never forgive him for it.
Her face twisted into one of disgust as she glowered at the grays of the concrete, cursing them for their offending dullness. The walls and buildings were nothing like the rolling green hills, speckled with old, brown fences and herds of grazing animals that stretched for miles. Like the skyscrapers, the green hills seemed to touch the sky. In contrast, the green hills caressed the sky with a gentle hand while the skyscrapers jutted impolitely right into the clouds, as if to say, "Stay out of my way, I have more important places to be!".
Only her words cut into his thoughts, pulling him back into reality. They were the words he had been waiting to hear, for they were the words that they both thought but wanted to keep unspoken; "We should never have come here. It was a mistake." she said in a voice just above a whisper, forcing him to listen.
For a long moment, he continued to stare at her. She seemed so small and weak, and he began to doubt that she was still the same girl he met in the countryside. The city only brought out her insecurities, making her a shell of her former self. As she began to look up at him with eyes glazed over with sorrow, he pulled her into a tight, reassuring hug, murmuring, "I'm still here, we'll get through this together." Her shoulders began to relax and the echo of a whimper escaped her throat as she buried her face into the shelter of his chest. He glanced out the window, taking in a deep breath. Exhaling, the memory of rain in the country filled his mind, just as it had taken over hers.
~~~
It was a warm summer's night in the middle of August. It was a tradition in town to have a party at the start of the harvest season, as it was believed that a good celebration would lead to a productive season. This was most likely just a story made up to give the local drunks an excuse to party, but no one seemed to mind. Friends and strangers alike gathered together to laugh and share drinks, talking of bountiful crops and good weather. The entire room seemed to shake as people danced about and enjoyed the company. At the time, it was one of the many nights he dreaded. Stuck in a hot room, surrounded by dozens of people was not an ideal situation in the summer, as the air inside would become so thick and almost impossible to breathe with the overwhelming body heat, made claustrophobic by bustling limbs struggling to find available space.
He kept himself back against the wall, where it was easy to avoid attention, and watched the crowd in front of him with a careful eye. The only thing keeping him at ease was the sound of rain echoing off the tin roof as a small summer thunderstorm passed through.
He wished to be standing outside in the rain instead. The smell of it, petrichor, was far more tolerable than the smell of booze inside. In fact, his mother had stated on several occasions that he had always been drawn to storms. It was impossible for his mother to get him to fall asleep when it was raining- not because the thunder scared him, but because his mother simply could not pry him away from the window where he would watch the raindrops beat off the ground. It seemed that rain and petrichor were in his blood.
For a while, the sound of the storm kept him unaware of the girl who had separated herself from the crowd and was now standing by his side. Noticing her presence almost made him jump, but he kept his composure long enough to look at her, greet her, and turn away again.
She smiled a friendly grin, taking the initiative in conversation. "Doesn't the rain sound so pretty?" She asked, her voice soothing. Gaining his full attention, he faced her once more and smiled in return. "It does, doesn't it?"
~~~
His eyes adjusted as he cleared his head. The hot room in the country shifted back to the depressing apartment, and he began to miss being surrounded by a boisterous crowd instead of silent walls. Staring at the rain rolling down the window, he truly began to understand her hatred.
They gave up those green hills, tin roofs, and gentle rain for what? A miserable concrete jungle where no one cared whether you existed or not, where those buildings swallowed you up and turned you into shells with only the will to survive.
He needed to take a walk outside. It was the only thing that would calm his nerves, because he was afraid that those apartment walls were going to suffocate him.
He practically threw himself through the front door, exasperated. As he breathed, he desperately searched for the smell of petrichor, desperately clinging to the memory of its familiarity. The smell was his last connection to home. But as he gulped for air, he found that he could not find the smell of petrichor.
The only smell that choked the city air was exhaust. It was as if petrichor itself had given up, turning sour and changing as it became a sad reflection of long lost dreams that echoed deep within him and her.
