Raindrop Book Novels & Stories

Hope’s POV The sky weeps and it floods the earth, causing the once-burning flames to smoulder, dispersing the suffocating smoke. I stand under the rain and with eyes closed, I lift my head up, part my lips and catch the raindrops that fall into my open mouth. The raindrop is salty. That is when I realise that I am tasting a mixture of rain with my own tears. Tears.

I gasped. I pointed the pencil at the sky and drew a series of jagged, vertical lines. *"I write the rain,"* I said. The first drop hit my forehead. It was freezing. It was sharp. It didn't taste like the "Hydration-Fluid" of the tanks. It tasted like minerals and sky. The rain began to fall in earnest, turning the dirt into a thick, messy slush. It wasn't beautiful. It was miserable. And it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Here, it's just politics—shifting pieces on a board with no thought to the pain of those moved aside. The rain grew heavier, pattering against the glass like impatient fingers. Xalara watched a drop trace its way down, absorbing smaller droplets until it grew heavy enough to fall in a crooked path to the bottom. Like ambition in this world of crystal spires and ancient magic—a slow accumulation until gravity claimed what had risen too high.

As destiny called, raindrops began to fall from the sky, infiltrating one by one, adding a shade of sadness to her lone step. The raindrops that soaked the ground soon hit Juliana with a soft but sharp force. Thousands of raindrops touched her face, creating sparkles on her cheeks wet with unstoppable tears. The woman stopped in place, oscillating between the rain and the emptiness in her heart. Juliana's eyes were glued to the raindrops falling in front of her. Every drop describes the suffering he is facing. She felt the emptiness in every raindrop that came her way, like an unspeakable outpouring of heart. The rain was a silent witness to Juliana's inner turmoil that was getting deeper.

She scrutinized me, her lower lip slightly quivering, thinking I couldn't answer that. I leaned in closer until my breath brushed against her skin, and her intoxicating scent filled my nostrils, enveloping me. My voice took on a rough, seductive edge as I murmured, "Because when it rains, you find beauty in sadness. Some people feel melancholy when it rains. But not you. For you, rain brings joy and a sense of being alive. The sound of rain comforts and calms you. It reminds you that a little rain is necessary for flowers to bloom. When life gets tough, you always think of rain. It's your reminder that 'this too shall pass.' You live by the motto 'you don’t get rainbows without a little rain

If Winnie just wanted a baby, she could get her sperm from a sperm bank, but she just had to get Jake’s. She was also making herself sound so, so, so close to Jake. Once I saw reality as what it really was, I discovered plenty of details I never took notice of before. The mockery in my eyes faded away, and I freed my hand. But Winnie cried out in surprise and fell backwards. Jake immediately caught her, and his expression was full of fear. “Are you okay, Winnie?” Winnie hugged Jake’s neck as she teared up even more. “Jake, I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting Luna to…”

He had seemed kind and genuinely interested in helping. Just as Olivia's thoughts were spiraling into despair, the heavy sound of thunderstorm disrupted her reverie. The sky grew dark, and the air was electric with anticipation. And then, almost immediately, the rain started dropping, drumming a soothing melody on the pavement. Olivia felt a pang of gratitude for having carried her umbrella that morning. She opened it, and the soft whoosh of the fabric provided a comforting canopy against the rain.

she said with a gentle smile. The man nodded kindly. Rosa turned. Her eyes naturally drifted toward the glass windows of the café and that’s when she saw it. Rain! Soft, delicate drops were streaming down the glass like silver threads. Rosa gasped quietly and walked toward the entrance. The soft drizzle shimmered under the café lights, casting tiny ripples in the puddles outside. Her eyes lit up, purple irises reflecting the tiny raindrops like gemstones. The first rain of summer. Rosa pressed her hand against the cool glass with round eyes. Her lips parted in awe. The streetlights outside glowed warmer. The sky looked like it was crying gently but it didn’t feel sad.

The storm had finally relented, leaving behind a world washed clean. Puddles mirrored the bruised evening sky, and the air carried that sharp, invigorating scent of wet pavement and distant pine. Droplets still clung to the library’s stone steps, catching the first glow of streetlamps as they flickered on. I swung my legs off the chair where I’d been perched, landing softly on the damp ground. My skirt brushed against my thighs, cool from stray rain, and I smoothed it down with nervous fingers.

🩷 🍒 . The night was restless, the rain falling in heavy, steady sheets that drummed against the glass walls of the penthouse. Aradhya stood silently in the balcony, her fingers curling over the steel railing as she stared at the rain cascading from the dark sky. The city below was a blur of shimmering lights and moving shadows, but her eyes were fixed on the droplets gliding down the glass.