It was raining. And it kept raining.

I hate rain. It’s wet, cold, and noisy. Not to mention, with the amount of gadget that I carry, staying dry is always a better option.

Hence, there I was. In a café, sitting down behind the window with a cup of hot vanilla latte. And I was watching the sky. Hoping for the rain to stop.

But the rain kept coming, and I kept watching.

I noticed someone, a college boy, waiting for the rain to stop under a tree. The tree didn’t help, he would still get wet, he should’ve just brought an umbrella, or he could always go inside, why would he chose to wait outside under a tree that do not help?

My mind rushed like a train, thinking how weird that boy was. But the boy kept waiting, and I kept watching.

It seems that he was enjoying the rain. He let his face and hair got wet, and he didn’t try to wipe them. In fact, he seems to enjoy his wet hair. What a weird boy indeed.

My curious observation was cut short when the rain suddenly stopped. For the first time in my life, I got a very slight sadness by the fact that the rain has stopped.

The boy took his time. He shook the water off his head, tidied his clothes, and then started walking away. Finally, when the boy was no longer in sight, I took my leave.

The next day.

It was raining again. And I was sitting in that café again, same spot, same vanilla latte, and the same boy under the tree.

I found myself studying him again. He seems to be quite tall, maybe as tall as or even taller than me. His face has a serene look that is very rare in the modern society, showing how young he is. He is quite good looking too, and definitely well dressed. But he still didn’t bring an umbrella. Didn’t he see the weather forecast? Even if he didn’t, he should’ve just brought an umbrella just in case.

And I found my mind rushed again. It’s as if this boy has an effect on me. Something that makes me curious. Something that takes my attention. Something quite pleasant, I must say.

I started to wonder, where does he live? Far or near? Why is he here again? Why is he alone? Doesn’t he have any friends or family that could pick him up? Or at least, someone to stay with him in this lonely rain?

I can only smile as my mind rushed yet again. This boy sure is something. For the first time in my life, I wished the rain would stay a little bit longer, so the boy would have wait a little bit longer.

But it didn’t, of course it didn’t. The rain has to stop, otherwise we would all die drowning to heaven. And the boy took his departure again, leaving me still wondering, and maybe, there is a very slight wish to see him again in my heart.

The next day.

It was raining yet again. Same café, same boy. This time, with an extra umbrella in my bag.

And I was waiting again, hoping that the boy would show up. And he did. This time, he was running, for what I don’t know. But he stopped under the tree again, and he sat down, hugging his little bag as if protecting it from the rain.

He never hugged his bag like that before, I wonder what’s so important inside it. And I also wonder if I should use the extra umbrella and bring him inside. I didn’t know what he will see in me. A stalker that watched him from a corner of a café? Or a good man that is just concerned with his well-being? Hopefully the latter.

I found myself moving, without me realizing, taking out the umbrellas and approached the boy. He saw me coming, but he didn’t do anything. No change in expression, no change in behaviour, nothing. Just the same look that he always gave the rain.

When I finally stood next to him, I opened my other umbrella and put it over his head.

I told him he can go inside. He told me that’s ok, he’ll just wait outside. I told him he will get sick. He told me he is used to it.

Finally, I told him that, from his pose, he doesn’t want to let his bag gets wet. And finally, he agreed to go in.

And now, it was still raining, but this time, with an extra boy in front of me.

I tried to be nice to him, offering to buy him something. But he didn’t want anything. He hesitated, to be precise. It’s obvious that he is thirsty, so I insisted. But when he didn’t answer, I just let him be.

And we stayed silent for a good few minutes. I didn’t know how to start the conversation. I didn’t know anything about him. Should I just start with the usual what’s your name? That would be awkward, wouldn’t it?

But my curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself asking about his bag. And when he heard my question, I can see a slight happiness, very slight, in his face, like he’s trying to hide it. He took a piece of paper from his bag, and showed it to me.

It was an exam paper, with a huge bright ‘HD’ written on top of it. Perfect score, in fact. And I could saw him suppressing his smile from the corner of my eyes.

And I praised him, telling him how hard he must’ve worked. And he smiled, a very big smile, no longer able to hide it. I returned his paper bag, and we started to talk. He opened up more, and the conversation went out smoothly.

For the first time in my life, I wished the rain would stay. I didn’t care if we would be drowning, I just didn’t want this boy to go home.

But the rain stopped yet again. And he started preparing to leave. But before he left, he asked me about the rain.

And I answered honestly. I hated rain. The boy made rainy days feel better, but I still hated rain. And the boy answered with an oh, then left.

I didn’t understand what just happened, but I was happy that everything went well. I learned about his name, Jung Chanwoo. Pretty cute name, isn’t it? About his study, his interest, his favourite songs, and so much more. For the first time in my life, I really wished the rain would come again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after.

But it didn’t. It was a clear sunny day. And I found myself in the café, waiting and hoping. But he didn’t show up. Even until the sun went down, replaced by the moon. He still didn’t show up.

And he never did for the rest of the week, because it didn’t rain anymore. I ended up checking the weather forecast first thing in the morning, hoping for a rain. But it never said what I want. Always sunny, always hot. Cloudy at best, but never rain.

Until one day, it finally said it would rain. Not here, not in the area with the café, but on the outskirt of the city. And for some unknown reason, there was this urge to go. If it’s raining there, will he be there?

I ended up going, with my umbrella and not much else, to the outskirt. That was stupid, I thought. I didn’t have anything to do there, and I wasted my money by going there. I was just walking, and walking, hoping to found that one boy that logically would not even be there.

I hated rain, even now. And I really wished I didn’t go. Now I was stuck here, waiting for the delayed bus that will take me back to my place. And I walked around a little bit, still carrying this irrational hope of seeing him.

Until I actually saw him. Under a tree, waiting for the rain yet again. And I just ran, I didn’t even know why. I approached him as fast as possible, and put my umbrella over him. And he was surprised, of course he was.

I told him he will get sick. He told me he thought I hate rain. I told him I do, even now I do. But I don’t hate him. In fact, if there is anyone that could make me love rain, it’s him. He told me how foolish I am, and leaned closer so we could share one umbrella. The closeness made me feel hot, but I couldn’t complain.

And right there, he told me his story. Of how rain was always around him since he’s young. Of how his parents died in a traffic accident under a heavy rain, with him in the backseat. Of how he’s blaming himself for bringing rain that always create so many misfortunes.

And he hated rain, probably more than me. He hated rain with his whole heart. But he can’t do anything about it. He could go anywhere in the world and the rain will still follow him.

He leaned his head on my shoulder, presumably looking for comfort. He told me he went to the outskirt to take away the rain from me, because I said I hated rain. I told him it’s ok to bring rain, because being wet together is better than being wet alone.

And we just waited there for the rain, with an umbrella too small for two. And he looked into my eyes, and I looked into his eyes. And we kissed. I didn’t know why; he probably didn’t know why too. It just happened, and both of us liked it. Both of use wanted it.

I dropped my umbrella and let the rain soaked us. And the rain just got more intense, but so was our kiss. And we kept at doing it, touching and hugging. I pinned him on the tree and starts savouring his neck. But he stopped me. We will get sick, he told me. And I can only chuckled.

I saw the bus finally coming. So I took his hands and dashed for the bus. I won’t leave him. Even if it’s raining blood, I know I won’t leave him to face the rain alone.

Inside the bus, he said thank you, I asked him out, he said yes, of course he would. And I asked him if he is single, and he said I am way too eager. But I told him I know he wants me too, and the look on his face is just the best thing I’ve ever seen.

For the first time in my life, I am grateful for the rain. But I was free to hate the rain again, since I got his number and his address, and I don’t need the rain help as a matchmaker anymore.

Today.

It is raining. Same café, same vanilla latte, same boy.

Although something is different, since we’re unofficially official now. And I can’t wait to pick up where we left yesterday, hopefully under a roof, although I won’t mind doing it under the rain.