Rain And Petals Eavesdrop Novels & Stories

Sympathy poured in. The family stood together. Stronger. Unbroken. Elena finished the chapter. Titled it: The Rain That Never Forgets She printed it. Bound it. Placed it beside the others. Then she walked to the veranda. The rain was falling harder now—angry, relentless. She stepped out into it. Let it soak her dress, her hair, her skin. She tilted her head back. Closed her eyes. Let the water run down her face. She whispered to the rain.

I wasn't sure which was more dangerous, listening to the warning or ignoring it. Elsewhere... Rain tapped softly against the roof of a small house twenty miles away from Grimhalden. Evelyn Vale folded one of Nira's old sweaters and smiled to herself. The room still smelled faintly of lavender, her daughter's favorite scent. She reached for another sweater. A knock interrupted her. "Nira?" She hurried to the door. When she opened it...No one stood outside. Only a single black rose lay across the doorstep. Her smile disappeared. The color drained from her face.

If she could lay down on her back and force herself up, she knew she’d fit, but there just seemed to be no way. Rain sat back down on the floor and slid the upper half of her body up into the pipe. With a frustrated sigh, Rain used the light wand to bang on the inside of the metal slide. “Can anyone hear me!” she screamed. “Seth! Adam! Mist!” Of course, there was no response. Seth probably thought she’d just gotten killed or dragged away, and Adam… God, where the hell was Adam? “Rain?” The sound was so faint, at first, she thought she had to have imagined it, that her mind was playing tricks on her, but then she heard it again. “Rain? Where the hell are you?”

ARC ONE: DAFFODIL; The Beginning PROLOGUE: — Pitter, patter. The raindrops fell one by one, clattering against the glass window. Not long after, the sky cried fully, obstructing the person inside the room to see the outside through the window. Yet, the person was not bothered by it at all. The sound of rain did not even reach her ears as she stared intently at her phone that was lying silently on her pale palms, her thumb anxiously rubbing against its edge.

On getting to the front of the meeting room’s door, River found her daughter seated on the floor, peeking through a chip on the door and watching the De la Mort family converse. Oh, No. No. No. Not AGAIN! Petrified, River gasped in the lowest of tones and nudged her daughter. “Rain! What did I tell you about eavesdropping?" River whispered sternly, already pulling her rebellious seven-year-old away from the door. Rain, a petite girl with her mother’s Auburn hair and her father’s amber eyes batter her eyelashes innocently. “They are making so many noises again, Mama. Can't help but hear them.”

The medicine was starting to make me drowsy, and since Owen didn't want to talk, I just let it overpower and carry me off to sleep. Rain beat on the windows of the chauffeured town-car, smearing the lines of Des Moines into sad gray smudges. We drove by Gray's Lake and the crab-apple forest, but the blossoms were long gone. The lake was blocked by cement barriers displaying signs that the park was closed due to flooding. Over the softly playing radio, I could hear a weather report for yet more rain and increasing flooding throughout the area.

​(unedited) Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass house, the rain poured down with relentless force, beating a fierce, rhythmic tattoo against the windowpanes. A profound, enveloping silence hung over the surroundings, broken only by the steady, melancholic roar of the storm. The earthy, intoxicating fragrance of *petrichor*-the scent of wet earth-drifted thick through the damp air. It was the kind of rain that poets wrote about, a weather meant to draw lovers closer, to weave their hearts and bodies together in a cozy sanctuary of warmth.

The third one just stands there looking confused. They’re heading straight for the vegetable patches in the kitchen garden. This is a disaster “Oh for fuck’s sake. Get back here, you fluffy bastard!” River mutters, already running after the two escapees. Rain claps his hands once, stepping forward like he’s suddenly qualified for this. “Okay. Okay, I’ve got this.” “You don’t got anything,” Sienna says immediately, already pulling out her phone. “I’ve seen videos,” Rain insists, spreading his arms wide like that’s somehow helpful. “You just—guide them—”

“To finish what the fire started.” Outside, the storm raged harder—lightning slicing the sky in half. And somewhere, beyond the rain, a faint reflection moved in the glass. Ethan’s eyes. Watching. Smiling. Waiting.

"What a perfect match indeed. One's talented and one's beautiful. They're truly made for each other." As I listened to Scout play the piano, I didn't feel the heartbreak I usually did. Instead, I felt a sense of relief. Hearing it one last time was enough, even if it wasn't played for me. Now, neither the music nor the person playing it could stir my heart anymore. When the guests finally left, my stomach started hurting again. Even so, I still went to return the dress. While I was waiting, I overheard a few maids speaking cautiously.