Sleep Rain Novels & Stories

Dammit Lana stop caring about what he does. After scrubbing and washing my body I rinse off and step out of the shower, feeling somewhat better. I dry myself, moisturise then slip into a comfortable t-shirt, hoodie and a pair of leggings. I hear the raindrops hitting against my window and the soothing sound of rain falling invades my ears. There's nothing more therapeutic than a rainy day. It's even better when you're serenaded to sleep by the sound of it.

No more of Raven's endless whining. But I didn't realize that danger was already creeping closer. One night, Blazewing and I were asleep when something wet splashed across us, jolting us awake. I looked up and blinked in shock. For some reason, after all this heat and endless dryness, the sky had finally opened up. It was raining. The rain was warm, sure, but not boiling—probably around 75 °F. At first, Blazewing and I didn't think much of it.

—Sophia’s POV It rained all night. It wasn't gentle. The sound made our night romantic. It was loud, messy. Just like the sky just couldn't hold it anymore. I know that feeling. You think you're fine. So you carry it, and you smile, do the laundry. Make dinner. Let the hurt just... sit in you. Quiet. Patient. Like a shadow that forgot how to leave. And then one day? Downpour. That was me. Yesterday. Maybe today too.

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.

He slowly put me down then grab a towel in locker. “Thanks,” I murmured. He look down on me and just nod. I wiped the droplets of rain on my arms. From here, I could here the loud pouring of rain. The rain fell down constantly like an endless bucket of water being poured down from the heavens. It’s a relief that we finished our shooting before it rained. “Can I give you a ride?” Rain falls like it means to wash us away, like it means to keep hammering until we smudge like a Monet masterpiece. I watched how the droplets of rain run down on the window shield, racing from one another.

"The dust. It's conductive. It's turning the atmosphere into a giant antenna. THE RAIN We went to the balcony for "breakfast" which for Leo consisted of a block of high-calorie protein paste wrapped in lead foil, the only thing dense enough to hold its molecular structure near him. The sky over Sanctuary was a bruised violet. The sun was a dim, hazy disc behind the layer of Architect-dust. "It's raining in the South," Damian said, joining us. He moved better these days, but the damp weather still made him limp. "Reports from the Free States say it's been raining for three days straight. Black rain." "It's not water," Leo said, chewing the paste. "It's condensation collecting around the dust

The rhythmic pattern of rain against the windowpane serves as a somber soundtrack to her thoughts, amplifying the weight of her emotions. Elizabeth finds a strange solace in this metaphorical connection between the rain and her inner turmoil. It's as if nature itself understands her suffering and empathizes with her pain. The rain becomes a companion during this vulnerable moment, offering a cathartic release for her emotions. With each passing droplet, Elizabeth allows herself to fully experience and acknowledge the depth of her hurt. She knows that healing will take time, just as the rainstorm will eventually pass. But for now, she embraces the rain as a physical manifestation of her miser

I smiled at her and pulled out my phone, I clicked on the recording “I like listening to rain sounds, the sounds of raindrops and the cozy weather vibe it brings always gives me a sizzling feeling of dejavu, back in Korea during winter, I've always loved to visit the countryside, where you can sit in front of your small house and sip a hot coffee while the raindrops make sounds on the roof, looking at the calm weather and enjoying a beautiful serene weather has always been my dreams.

At midnight, It was pouring down, the blustering wind carried the frenzied drops in wild swirling one moment and the other moment it was washing Seoul so beautifully. However, it was not glorious for Jin-Ae. The sound of raindrops is a meticulous lullaby, everyone loves listening and relishing it whereas, it was a trouble for her. Every drop was miserable and disastrous for Jin-Ae. She ran behind a tesla, barefoot, weeping and not caring about being a total mess.