UNDER THE RAIN
The rain fell silently. He could hear the pattering as it hit the ground, the roof on top of him, the cars on the street. He could smell the scent of moist earth, the fresh sensation of the rain. A cool breeze ruffled his hair. He smiled.
Rain was one of the things he loved. It was so full of color, so full of smells, textures. If you stood in it, alone, it was like time stood still. Nothing mattered for a while. You were completely engulfed by it, and everything was better when it rained. The trees were greener, the bark was darker. Just like he remembered it. And though he couldn't see it; he didn't need to— he could feel it.
She looked up to the sky, imagining the feeling of the rain caressing her face as it ran down her body, soaking her clothes. The rain had picked up. She closed her eyes, clearing her mind. She felt a raindrop run down from her chin and pat on the floor. She shifted her bare feet on the concrete.
Taking a deep breath, opening her eyes, she stepped out into the rain.
A silver curtain engulfed her as she stepped into the light, welcoming it, letting herself be guided by the rythmic pattering of the rain on the floor. She lifted her arms, smiling, and twirled.
Her hands flowed like velvet, like calligraphy across the sky as she danced, her eyes closed, taking in the world, each and every sound. The streetlights glistened in the night, lighting up the street. Her stage.
She moved like a ballerina, each movement long and graceful, at the same time clumsy, like a care-free gazelle, swelling with the joy of being alive, swirling to the rhythm of a music only she could hear. The rain drops on her face reflected the moon, glittering against her skin.
He watched her silently in the dark. Though he couldn't see her, he could hear her feet scraping the concrete, her gleeful laughter that filled the street with joy and hope, a reminder of just how beautiful life can be. He felt a smile surface his face. Only listening was okay, sometimes.
He sat there silently for a while, his mind wandering.
Something rustled to his right, and he stiffened, listening, his clouded eyes darting around in the dark. He flinched as he felt a wet hand grab his, gently. The smell of lavender and mint and flowers reached him, softened by the scent of the rain. he could feel a person in front of him, shorter than him by the way the light bended, barefoot by the sound of her feet on the wooden floor. Her hair was loose and damp, the flowers were her shampoo. Her hand was cold, her breathing labored. He didn't have to think about it to know who it was.
"Come dance," she asked, pulling him gently to his feet.
He stumbled over one of the stairs and nearly fell, burning. "I.. I- can't," he stuttered, righting himself up. His eyes drooped to the ground.
She studied his face, still dry. Still untouched by the rain. His tossed brown hair, his clothes. She looked into his sightless blue eyes. A small smile appeared on her face. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out something and gently laid it in his sensitive hand, laughing as a look of confusion crossed his face.
He touched it. Silk. He felt it. Embroidery. It was a handkerchief of some sort. He felt her put her delicate hand on top of his, strong yet gentle, and practically felt her smile as she beamed. "Anyone can," she whispered.
Gripping his hand in hers, she hauled him up, smiling as he stumbled, and pulled him out into the silver rain, back into their stage. The beautiful sound of a thousand raindrops engulfs them. His hair sticks to his forehead now, his foggy blue eyes reflecting the falling rain.
It was like stepping into cloak. Curtains of water around him, like time standing still. Like a dark water color that washes away the anguish, cleansing your mind. The sense of a thousand drops on his skin, his hair. The caress of water as it runs down his face.
"Close your eyes," she said, passing a frail hand through his face. Her hand was still on the handkerchief.
He didn't say anything. His misted eyes, filled with uncertainty, looked at her with unrecognizable emotion.
He closed his eyes. He didn't like the feeling. Though he didn't need to see he felt exposed, defenseless. He felt her hand slither to the handkerchief and then pull on it, taking his hand with her. She placed his sensitive hands on her face. This time, he could actually feel her smile. His hands roamed her face lightly, as if afraid she might crumple under his touch, his fingers brushing her skin as he tried to make a mental map of her face. They both knew he didnt need one. He remembered perfectly.
Her long eyelashes brushed his pale hand. She laughed, a perfect sound.
The gentle feeling of cloth against his hands stopped him. He recognized the silk as she replaced his hands with the handkerchief, tying it around her eyes.
And she was blind.
Her arms coiled around his neck, bringing him closer. His hands rested on her hips. A feeling of safeness reached him, as if this was the right thing to do. A smile played on his lips. And they danced.
The rain falling around them, pouring down furiously against their young bodies, laying out the melody to their waltz as they twirled together, completely lost in their own world of night, knowing the best things in life are seen in the dark. And they felt so safe, so unbelievably right under the protection of the rain.
He opened his eyes to look at her, because he could. Because he didn't need his eyes to see her. He could see her through her touch, through her scent, her laughter. As long as she was with him, he would see her. Even if his eyes couldn't.
"Anyone can..." she repeated, tears swelling in her eyes, running down her cheeks like rain drops. She buried her face in his neck. He smelled like moist soil and green trees. She loved that smell.
Rain was one of the things she loved. When you stand in it, alone, time stands still. Nothing matters for a while...
But if you danced in the rain, with your eyes closed, with him... Time sweeps you by. Everything matters. Every sound, texture, smell, here to remind you that the world is still beautiful. Because the trees are greener, the bark is darker. Because everything is better when it rains. Just like this one moment, as they tried to hang on to it, to make it last forever. Perfect. Even if it's just while the storm passes. Just for a little while, perfect.
Like it should be.