Rain again
674 Words
*Chapter 7
We agreed to celebrate this week at Matías’s house. I knew he deserved someone who really loved him. I had been thinking about how lucky I was to have them as friends. Even though they say that friends don’t last forever, maybe we were growing older, but we wanted to keep that friendship and prove that it wasn’t just a phase.
These days the weather has been a little strange. The sun comes out, it rains, and that’s how it’s been. I love it because I can read while I listen to the beautiful sound of the rain, or watch my marathon of favorite movies. I loved that it rained because the plants turned such an intense green that gave off so much freshness.
They say it’s raining with a purpose. Not the typical calm rain... no. It was the kind that feels like the sky is crying on the inside too.
I went out anyway. No umbrella. No direction. Not much desire to think.
I was walking with my hood up, my headphones off, and my heart full of unanswered questions.
Until I saw him. There, standing right on that corner where we had said goodbye the last time. Where I turned around without looking back, even though inside I was dying to do it.
I saw him. And he saw me. There were no words at first. Just the two of us, soaked, looking at each other like time had stopped. Water running down our faces, but we didn’t move. Like the rain was hugging us before we did.
— Rain again? — I finally said, half to myself, half trembling.
— Whenever we’re bad it rains. Maybe it’s a sign, Harper — he said with a seductive smile.
— And what if this time it’s raining so we can start over? — I blurted out, without thinking.
He came closer slowly. No rush. Like he was afraid I’d disappear if he took a wrong step.
— I missed you — he said. And it wasn’t a casual phrase. It was a confession. A surrender.
— Me too. But I don’t want more halves, or silences that hurt, or doubts.
— Then give me everything.
— You give me first.
And there, under that heavy rain, with no umbrella, no witnesses, we hugged.
But it wasn’t a “hi” hug, or a “sorry” hug.
It was the kind of hug that says: “despite everything, we’re still here.” The kind of hug you don’t give every day, or to just anyone.
And when we pulled apart a little, he cupped my face with both hands, trembling a little — from the cold or from nerves, I don’t know — and he said:
— I don’t promise I won’t mess up. But I promise I’ll stay and fight with you. To talk. To stay when everything burns.
— Then stay — I told him — but stay for real. Without leaving every time something hurts. Without hiding behind pride.
— I’m staying with you. Soaked, crazy and all — he said in a whisper, with a low voice.
— Yes — I whispered, almost trembling from the cold.
— Harper.
— Rowan — I said.
— I’m trying to hold back.
— I’m not planning to hold back anymore — I said.
And we kissed. With our faces soaked, our clothes sticking to our bodies, and our hearts open. The rain didn’t bother me anymore. That day wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And sometimes that’s all you need.
— Damn it, Collins, you’re gonna catch a cold — he said in a teasing tone, taking off his shirt that was a little wet, so I could see his bare torso. He came closer to me and said:
— I don’t want you to get sick — he said, helping me take off my shirt.
I saw how his eyes lit up when he saw me without a shirt, so I moved closer, little by little.
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- Writer
