When Rain Fell Unseen Novels & Stories

She looked up and saw that it was raining all of sudden! "Oh, no! I can't be that unlucky!" Her footsteps paused and looked around. She was just about to find a place to take shelter from the rain when suddenly, there was a whooshing sound. In the blink of an eye, her vision was blurred by the downpour and she was drenched. Rose cursed as she ran, "it seems that when I am unlucky, even God is not on my side!" It was not easy to find a place to hide from the rain. When Rose was taking cover, she realized that the downpour had already become a drizzle. She rolled her eyes speechlessly, and she didn't even want to wipe herself dry anymore.

Yet, with Arthur, it felt different - like she could be herself without fear of judgment or rejection. Lost in her thoughts, Eleanor felt a warm sensation spreading through her chest. She realized that she didn't want to resist these feelings anymore. Taking a deep breath, she mustered the courage to admit to herself that she was falling for Arthur. As the hours passed, Arthur slowly stirred awake. His eyes met Eleanor's, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Good morning," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine affection. "Good morning," Eleanor replied, her heart fluttering at the sight of his bright brown eyes.

With each drop that fells, it felt as though the universe itself was joining in her sorrow. Looking up at the darkened sky, Ava's voice broke through the sound of the rain. “Why?” she cried out, her words lost in the storm. “Why do you torment me like this?” Her question hung in the air, unanswered, as the rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of her shattered life. At that moment of despair, Ava felt utterly alone, with only the cold embrace of the rain to accompany her on her journey into the unknown.

Even the garbage man could not help but chime in, "Stop messing with the trash! Those gloves are a mess. Why not get the woman a new pair? Kid, no wonder she's not into you with you acting like this!" Even the garbage man got it, but Andrew? He did not have a clue. I walked away, leaving Andrew crouched there while gripping those tattered gloves like they were treasure. The snow had been falling for a while. I glanced back at Andrew, who had snowflakes dusting his hair and face. I stood in front of him, my voice steady and calm. "Andrew, you're looking for my forgiveness, aren't you?" He was visibly shocked, his eyes lifting to meet my frosty stare. He caught his breath. "Yes."

​The rain in Crestview didn’t just fall; it punished. It was a cold, rhythmic assault that turned the city’s soot-stained streets into a labyrinth of grey slush. It hammered against the cracked, salt-crusted windows of the bus station, mirroring the frantic, shattered rhythm of Elara Vance’s heart. Each drop sounded like a gavel striking a desk, pronouncing a sentence she wasn't ready to serve.

Finally, he set down his brush, whispering the title as if he might vanish if spoken too loudly: “Unseen.” He knew he would never show it to her. Maybe to anyone. Some things weren’t meant to be shared, not when they revealed more truth than words ever could. And yet, as he covered the canvas with a cloth, his phone buzzed faintly on the workbench. It was just a notification. Not her. Never her. Still, he found himself smiling—soft, sad, and unshaken. Because some silences, he realized, spoke louder than words.

~ Sienna’s POV ~ The rain is heavy as I start walking, placing one foot in front of the other and just like that I take one step at a time away from that hell of a house. I have no idea where I was going. All I know is that I just need to keep walking. The rain soaks my hair and my clothes. My white shirt went see-through just from ten minutes of walking in the rain. I can feel it sticking to my bra, to my stomach, to every roll and curve I used to hide from Vincent’s disgusted stares. Now even strangers could see everything but there are no strangers because the streets are empty except for a few cars to pass by.

The heavy door slammed shut, the click of the lock sounding like a final judgment. Then, the sky broke. Rain began to fall, heavy and sudden, soaking into my clothes and drenching my bags within seconds. I stood there, shivering as the water blurred my vision, fighting with everything in me not to let a single tear fall. It was deep into the night, the estate quiet except for the rhythmic drumming of the downpour.

Rain began to fall over Positano—not a gentle Mediterranean shower, but a torrent, a deluge, the heavens emptying themselves as if in mimicry of my body's rebellion. I opened the window. I let the rain in. It fell on the workbench, on the velvet, on the dust of the shattered vessel, turning the porcelain ash into a paste, into a mortar, into the mud from which I would build whatever came next. I placed my hand on my abdomen, still flat, still secretive. You will not have him, I whispered to the ghost in the photograph. And he will not have you. I will see to it that you both inherit nothing but the rain.

Sometimes the safest thing a person could do was pretend not to see. So she said nothing. She turned her gaze back to the window and gave Elara the space to pull inward, to protect whatever she was holding close. The rest of the drive passed in silence. *** That night, the rain came hard. A low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky like a warning, followed by a relentless downpour. Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, blurring the city lights into streaks of silver and gold. The storm pressed against the glass like a living thing, distant yet insistent, echoing the unease Elara felt deep inside.