You and him, falling in love on a rainy day.

It’s pouring. The skies are dark and there’s a strong wind blowing by. People are rushing away, covering their heads as they ran underneath shallow shelter or had umbrellas in hand as they splashed their way through the crowds. They were eager for home, for warmth, yet there was one that rushed out into the rain.

Dark eyes scanned the skies in a hurry as hands pulled open a black umbrella just before joining the crowd. He rushed, his face wrinkled by worry and his head swiveled both ways before turning a corner. His feet, clad in worn sneakers, half jogged and half ran through the streets before slowing as the crowd thinned. Then he paused. Before him was an empty playground, its usual bright colors dulled by the gray rain, and his eyes searched its landscape before bolting to a run toward the swings because there was the girl he was looking for.

He stood in front of you and sheltered you with an umbrella, watched you as you merely sat on a wet swing with drenched clothes and wet hair.

“How did you know I was here, Kris?”

“How can I not know?” his deep voice said. “You come here when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” you sniff, frowning at him while your eyes betrayed you with its glassy look.

“I’m not buying it.”

Then he took you by the arm to press you against his body in a one-armed hug, uncaring that his clothes were getting wet. He was just glad that you were safe, glad that the girl he loved wasn’t alone tonight; and he swore that, one day, she’ll stay in his arms this time instead of going to the one who makes her cry.

He just didn’t know that today was that day because you haven't told him you love him yet.