The rain fell down on the rooftop, creating a sound which seemed horribly intrusive but at the same time incredibly comforting. I took her hand, gently letting my fingers play on the back of her knuckles. She cracks a smile. That phrase seems silly doesn’t it? Cracking a smile, as if our face is a solid entity where any show of emotion is a breaking point, yeah silly. Her eyes, in an almost unusual way, don’t focus on me, but on the window, water traveling down it’s long outer surface.
I always liked the rain. I think she whispers that anyway. I pretend not to hear, because I think she said that more for herself and not for my own ears. She gets up and leads me outside. Rain pelts our heads, the hairs on our head slowly becoming wet. She leans in and her forehead leans against me. This is what serenity feels like, isn’t it.
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