Dancing in the Rain

The Siege


Rain.

It never stopped.

The constant pouring of water, the crying of the heavens.

Rain.

It drenched my world and flooded my heart.

Rain.

Because of it, I found him.

I found him and he became my sun on rainy days, my rain on sunny days.

All thanks to rain.


It had been raining nonstop for the past five days, and by the looks of things, it wasn't going to stop any time soon.

I glanced out the window and sighed. I hated rain. It was wet and dirty and cold and made people sick. Why did people like it?

It's nice to look at sometimes, I conceded to myself. But after the first two days, I got bored of watching the furious drops hitting the earth, as if the sky was angry. Or sad.

I sighed and got off my sofa, stretching. I was an outdoorsy person-when it wasn't raining, at least-and it killed me, suffocated me, to stay indoors for so long. I would take a walk, I decided, with my huge umbrella and enjoy some fresh air even though it was pouring.

I tossed on a long raincoat and grabbed my big, blue umbrella. Slipping into my bright green rubber boots, I took a deep breath and stepped outside.

Slowly, carefully, I opened my umbrella and slid the runner all the way up, spreading the waterproof fabric into a vast octagon. I locked my door behind me and took my first step into the soggy world.

I began to smile as clean, sweet, fresh air filled my nostrils and traveled to my lungs. Letting out a laugh, I started skipping on the road, avoiding large puddles, and danced and twirled around.

It was one of my favorite activities, dancing. I wasn't that great at it, but I loved it anyway. It was always so freeing and relaxing to move my body to some music. Today, my music was the rainfall.

The melody was calm and soothing, and I found myself yearning to feel the drops on my skin as I danced, despite the fact that I hated being wet.

My mind warred with my body for several minutes, during which I continued dancing and skipping until I found myself in an unfamiliar neighborhood. I wasn't too worried because I had a good enough sense of direction to always find my way home.

Besides, my mind was busy trying to convince my body not to let the umbrella fall, not to let the rain soak me, but my body and instincts were stronger.

Gradually, my arm began to fall. Inch by inch, until the umbrella dropped to my side and I was completely exposed to the rain.

I was soaked to the skin in seconds.

Yet I found I didn't care.

For once, I relished the feeling of being wet, being cleansed. For once, water brought me joy.


It was raining again.

It had been a week since my first walk in the rain. This time, I didn't hesitate at all to slip outside without an umbrella and dance.

I walked in the other direction today. I passed a park, a school, and streets upon streets of shuttered houses. I danced until my muscles were tired and sore and screamed in protest at even one more step.

And then, just as I turned to leave, I saw him.

He stepped outside in a green hoodie that matched my boots. His hood was up and he held no umbrella as he strode down the street and turned a corner.

Mystified, I followed discreetly after, peeking just around the corner and watching as he walked down a well-worn road. It was completely deserted. He walked quite a bit away before coming to a stop, tilting his face up to the falling droplets, and letting his hood fall.

My breath caught.

Even at this distance I could see the smooth line of his nose, the angle of his strong chin, the fall of his now dripping russet-colored hair. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be smiling blissfully into the sky.

And then he began to dance.

He started off slowly, just moving his upper body. Then his arms joined in, slicing disappearing lines through the rain. Then his legs moved.

And I was mesmerized.

His body was a well-oiled machine, but there was nothing mechanical about it. His dance was fluid and spontaneous, each move flowing right into the next, like water.

I was so envious. I wished I could move my body like that. I wanted to go talk to him, to ask him to teach me how to dance because obviously I didn't really know how.

It surprised me.

I was quiet, shy, and I never, ever approached someone first.

I stood there feeling shocked, leaning around the corner and staring at him for who knows how long. It felt like hours and hours. Maybe it was. Maybe it was only a few minutes. I couldn't tell.

Eventually, he began to tire and he spun in a slow circle until he finally stopped and stood still.

He turned.

I ducked.

My hand flew to my chest, feeling my heart pulse frantically at almost being caught. I was only admiring him innocently. There wasn't really any need for me to be afraid, but I didn't want to seem like some creepy stalker.

Not staying to wait and see if he had noticed me-I really hoped he hadn't-I ran all the way home, not stopping even once to catch my breath.

The rain let up just as I stepped inside.


For the first time in my life, I anticipated rain. I wanted it. I wished it hadn't stopped. But of course, with my luck, it stopped immediately and the sky cleared. It didn't seem like it was going to rain again anytime soon.

But it seemed someone up there was having a bad season because a week and a half later, tears fell from the sky again. I walked outside in my green boots and smiled.

My legs took me in the same path as last time. I was eager to watch that boy dance again. But I was disappointed.

When I reached that neighborhood, the street was empty. I cautiously tread forward to the deserted road with hope in my heart.

Hope that cracked like glass when I saw it was still empty.

Sighing, I scolded myself fiercely. What had I been expecting? Why? I didn't even know the guy!

I patted my cheeks forcefully and shook my head to clear it. The rain was only a light drizzle now, mist-like, and I tilted my head up with closed eyes as I spun and spun.

Soon, the rain increased, until it fell in sheets that were practically opaque. I danced and danced through the water, trying not to think about the boy in the green sweatshirt who didn't show up.

But then, just as I was leaving, a green blur flashed through a gap in the rain and caught my eye.

It was him.

I bit my lip, but the grin still blossomed. I decided to stay a little longer, just a little. To dance more. Because I loved dancing. Not because of him or anything.

Certainly not.


The days passed, then weeks, and before I knew it, two months had flown by with several intervals of rain occurring in between. Each day it rained, I took a walk, always to that same road. And he always showed up some time. And we danced, him on his side of the road, me on the other, with hundreds of feet and layers of rain separating us. But it didn't matter. I could always see him dancing comfortably through the downpour in his bright green hoodie. And I always wore my matching green rain boots.

I didn't mind that we never spoke. I still wanted to, though, to hear his voice, see his smile up close, get to know him. But I satisfied myself with watching him from afar.

One day, it was raining yet again, and I whistled happily as I slid into my boots and skipped outside. I couldn't wait to see him dance again. I would never tire of it.

He was leaving his house just as I arrived. I stayed a fair distance behind, not wanting him to see me following.

I noticed something bright red fall from his pocket. I waited for him to bend down and pick it up, but he didn't. He just left it there.

He must not have seen it, I thought, and decided to pick it up for him. I blushed at the thought of actually talking to him but I was just being polite, wasn't I? I couldn't leave the item there when I had seen it fall and was perfectly capable of returning it to him.

I jogged forward and picked it up just as he turned the corner. Glancing at his disappearing figure, I hoped he didn't mind that a stranger would be returning his dropped item.

I looked down into my hands and my eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was a vibrant red handkerchief. I giggled and stuck my hand in my own pocket, pulling out my blue plaid handkerchief.

I thought I was the only person my age to still use handkerchiefs. It used to make me feel special. But now I was glad there was someone else. I was glad it was him.

It warmed me to have something so singular in common with him. But I didn't know the guy, not even his name. How could I be feeling warm because of him? This was too weird.

I pushed my annoying thoughts aside and followed his path down the street and around the corner.

He was already dancing. I had to suppress an uncharacteristic girly squeal at the sight of him. He was wearing shorts today, though it was kind of freezing, and I could see his muscular legs moving smoothly as they supported his body.

I took a deep breath, savoring the feel of rain sliding through my hair, before taking that first step in the opposite direction of my normal path and walking towards him.

My heart felt like it was ready to beat out of my chest. I was twenty feet away, fifteen feet, ten, nine, eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-one-

Zero.

"Hello," I said quietly.

He jerked to a stop and stared at me with wide eyes.

"Um, is this yours?" I bit my lip and shyly offered him the piece of red fabric.

I wasn't sure why I said that. I knew it was his; I had seen him drop it with my own two eyes, after all. But I guess I didn't want him to know I was watching him. Like a creeper.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," he said hastily with an adorable blush on his face as he accepted the handkerchief. His fingers brushed mine just barely and I stiffened at the touch.

"It's no problem."

He chuckled. "You're probably thinking I'm really old-fashioned to still be using handkerchiefs, right?"

I smiled and shook my head as I pulled out my plaid one. "Nope. I'm old-fashioned too."

"Wow. It must be fate," he joked.

I blushed, but didn't know what to say.

Clearing his throat, he asked, "So, uh, are you the girl I always see dancing in the rain?"

My head whipped up and my eyes met his in shock. He had seen me? Had he seen me staring at him? I wanted to melt from mortification.

"I, uh, well, yes?" I said weakly.

"Not to sound like a stalker or anything, but I've watched you dance and you're amazing."

I shook my head vigorously. "Not nearly as amazing as you."

"So you've seen me too?"

I didn't know it was possible, but I turned even redder and couldn't meet his eyes. "I...Yes. But I'm not a stalker, I promise!"

He laughed and the sound ran through me, making me shiver. He noticed and said, "Oh, are you cold? Here, take my sweatshirt."

My eyes widened as he began pulling his hoodie off. Not thinking, my hands shot out and caught the fabric pulling it back down. "No, it's fine! You'll get sick!"

"Are you sure?"

I looked at him, ready to protest, but suddenly realized how close we were standing to each other. If I leaned in just a few inches, I could kiss him...but what was I thinking?

I stumbled back, flustered. "I should...probably go now. I just wanted to return that. It was nice to meet you."

"Wait!"

I looked up at him questioningly.

He scratched his head and hesitated. Finally, he said, "To be honest, I've wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I...dropped my handkerchief hoping maybe you'd pick it up and return it to me."

My mouth dropped open. It was all planned?

"I'm sorry!" he blurted. "I wasn't trying to trick you or anything. I just...Can I get to know you?"

"I don't know," I said uncertainly, still trying to get my head around the fact that he had planned this meeting. And that he had wanted to meet me just as much as I had wanted to meet him.

Maybe it really was fate. But then again, maybe it wasn't. I didn't really care. My heart was telling me not to let this chance slip away.

"Please?" he begged, unconsciously stepping closer.

I didn't move back. "Okay," I agreed.

"Really?"

I nodded.

He smiled hugely, and it took my breath away. I knew I wouldn't regret this.

"Oh," he said in surprise. "The rain's stopped."

I looked up at the brightening sky as well. I hadn't even noticed. "Well, I guess I should get going. My clothes are soaked."

"My house is just around the corner. Would you like to...come by? Just for a while. You can wash up there and I'll give you some clothes to borrow."

His house? Already? Hadn't we just had our very first conversation?

"Please? I'm not ready to stop talking to you yet," he admitted and I almost shrieked at his cuteness. How could anyone be so sweet? If he kept this up, my cheeks would be forever red.

"And I promise I won't do anything...weird to you," he added.

This time, we both blushed.

"I...I guess I could stay for a little while," I conceded. "If you're sure that's okay."

"Of course!" he said eagerly, before coughing and saying more calmly, "I mean, yeah, that's great."

Hesitantly, he took my hand. I curled my cold fingers around his somehow still warm ones. I saw him smile.

"It's great to finally meet you," he said.

I smiled, feeling happier than I'd ever felt. "Likewise."


A/N: Lalalala, I'm back! :D Well actually, I've been writing a bunch of stuff lately but they're kind of different from what I usually write so I was hesitant to post them on here buuuuut whatever, might as well. Hope you like!

Write on. Read on. That's my motto.


© Copyright 2012 by The Siege