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Description
He had been standing there alone all morning.

        Complaining about the rain. It had always rained when they met. Always.

        Cuddling in the rain. Goosebumps would rise on her skin. He cuddled and held her close to keep her tiny frame warm. Her scent was infinitely more intoxicating when she was drenched from head to toe.

        Dancing in the rain. He would twirl her around, sweep her off the ground and spin in circles until they both felt dizzy.

        Kissing in the rain. Lips locked and tongues wrestled. Wet clothes clung to their bodies like the smell of cold tobacco.

        Falling sick in the rain. He would sometimes begin to sniffle and those sniffles would soon turn into a month long flu.

Laughing in the rain. Umbrellas would go up and people would scurry for shelter once it started to pour. Her eyes glinted with laughter.

        Walking in the rain. Their senses tingled as they took it all in - the smell of damp earth, the wet streets, the chilly wind - and they held hands.

        Fighting in the rain. Like a storm, she would rage and cause destruction in her wake.

        Hot chocolate in the rain. She could make a combination of boiling milk, cocoa and sugar seem magical. They would drink hot chocolate in twin red mugs and listen to the patter of the rain on her window.

         Lying motionless in the rain. A motorcyclist skidded out of control and ran straight into her, dragging her along before it stopped 2 metres away. Blood and water blended to form watery red puddle around two lifeless bodies.

Now, on a gloomy day three years later, he laid a fresh bunch of roses before her tombstone. Not before long, the skies opened up. It always rained when they met.