Hidden Rain Novels & Stories

Hurry up, I don't want you wasting too much water, caution Luna with kara going to the bathroom " ********** The rain fell with an almost punishing force, its relentless onslaught dousing everything in its path. Ryder sat alone on his varanda, his clothes clinging to his shivering body, while his eyes remained fixated on the night sky. Through the torrential downpour, he strained to catch a glimpse of the distant stars, seeking solace in their steady glow. But tonight, even their celestial beauty failed to soothe his troubled mind.

he said "I'll pass" "I insist" "You can make me listen to it but you can't make me develop interest in it" he asserted. I felt my strength draining away from the not-so-long conversation and didn't want to argue further so I threw my hands up in surrender. Let's save the argument for another day, I thought, then I caught myself in mid-thought. Another day? Was I subconsciously wishing to see this Tim again? I scoffed at my thoughts. The rain had stopped then and the perfect curvature of the rainbow cast over the evening sky.

The rain had just ceased, leaving behind a symphony of glistening droplets on every surface. The world outside the window had transformed into a watercolor painting, where hues of green and brown melded seamlessly with the gray clouds still lingering in the sky. It was a scene that captured the essence of a monsoon morning—refreshing, rejuvenating, and utterly captivating.

He of all the people knew how fake this dream was but before he got even two steps forward, he was kicked back swiftly yet hard that he got in a crouching stance. "Rain?" Ketra's cheeks were wet with tears as she glanced at the god in front of her. Was it happening or was she hallucinating? She freed from Kevin's hands as Rain's manly scent hit her senses. Her feet lifted suddenly feeling energized and she found her way to his arms almost immediately and buried her head in his broad chest that she had missed for an eternity while inhaling his merry scent of cinnamon.

Aria Rain slicks my skin in a spontaneous downpour. One second, the forest is just damp and heavy with the promise of a storm, the next it’s pouring cold drops that are slicing through the canopy of trees, soaking through my shirt, turning the ground beneath my boots into a slip and slide. Just our luck. Beside me, Quin looks just as soaked through, only while I’m giving drowned rat, she looks like the early bird in a wet t-shirt contest.

The phone rang until it switched to voicemail. "Hello, this is Miss Lynch, Rainie's homeroom teacher. Rainie didn't come to school today and didn't request leave. Is she sick? Please contact the school as soon as possible." Sunlight slipped through the curtains and spread across my desk. My textbooks for today's classes sat there in neat stacks. After school, I had planned to buy the new art album released this week. Now I would never need it. My soul drifted without control and followed the direction my family had gone.

Less chance he'd hear her following. The trees were slippery from the rain, the bark wet and slick under her hands and feet. The drizzle was still falling, light but steady, soaking through her clothes within minutes. But the rain had its advantages too. It washed away scents, cleared the air. Made it easier to pick out anything that didn't belong.

I locked the door as soon as she had entered and I turned around to face her. “You.. you’re wet,” I said. “I’ve been calling you!” she exclaimed as if that explained why she was wet. “I got stuck in a taxi with flat tyres when the rain started pouring and I called you!” I strained my ears and for the first time, I heard the sound of rain. It had subsided already, but taking a good look at her soaked clothes, I could tell that the rain had been heavier a few minutes ago. “I’m sorry,” I muttered and sat down beside her. “I went on a date.”

Not bleakness. Then we hear it. We hear it seconds prior to when everyone out on the tarmac, sidewalk, even those alighting vehicles start sprinting, scrambling for shelter. We hear the howl of the rain coming behind us. I am familiar with this kind of cloudburst. It is agile, youthful and exuberant, unlike the wizened rains that fall in September or the fluctuating drizzles late in March. This kind comes in June. Rain that runs. Rain that sprints.

I соvеr mу fасе аnd sob some mоrе, ѕtuсk оut here оn thе соld, rаіnу ѕtrееt. Thе rain іѕ a соnѕtаnt drіzzlе nоw. It’ѕ the tуре that mаkеѕ уоu mіѕеrаblе аnd соld but dоеѕn’t soak you tо the bone. I mаnаgе to рull myself tоgеthеr.