Full Text: "Rain in the Sycamores"

He stood before the window of his double single on the third floor, gazing out over the campus's spread of dimly glistening trees. The light seeping in from the bedroom nearby was hardly enough for him to hold the reality of the warm, dry room. The sound of the rain penetrated the space around him in such a vivid way that his own dryness seemed surreal. His hands, usually grasping a tablet, keys, a mouse, clipboard, or any number of other busy tools, felt awkward at his sides, so he let them slip into his pockets. The pattering sound of drop after drop falling onto sycamore leaves was beautifully calming, forcing his tired eyes to drift deeper into a grin.

The wind picked up as his partner breezed through the doorway of the bedroom, the brief flicker of her shadow hinting at her presence much more than her quiet steps, which he had been listening for among the soundscape. She loved the rain as much as he, elevating slightly with the scent of wet leaves whishing in to greet her. Her eyes began to acclimate to the darkness, gathering the shape of her love in a quiet stance, her ears likewise slowly accessing the scene. The light skin of his face and the chime of his voice greeted her at once with a turn and a "hey, you." His voice and the veil of rain became one, fostering the serenity of the moment.

Once she could clearly see the dark waves of his hair against his cheeks, she wanted only to be nearer to him, to press one ear against him, following the rain's brilliance with the other. She did so, slipping her arms past his sides, palms pressing to his chest. The rain quickened as they embraced, as though to be heard over the strong beating of their hearts. Their bodies were warm, the early autumn air chill in bold contrast. Each breeze added a coolness to the wet kisses she placed upon his neck, lifting each one sensually away.

Her nose filled with the smell of his hair.

She let go her grasp to squeeze his shoulders with her hands, squeezing then his arms, his elbows, wrists, and finally his hands. She lifted his hands from their hiding place, weaving her fingers together with his. She tightened her embrace once again to bring the fingers of his right hand up to her lips, kissing them gently over his shoulder. With a warm, easy motion, she crossed his arms to his chest, clasping his hands still. She rested her head upon his shoulder with a pleasant hum, his body responding with a warm fullness and a handsome smile. They stood like that for a long time together, listening, hearts beating with every drop of rain.

In that moment, they were sure that the rain fell for them, that the breeze blew for them, and that they would share that quiet, dark room together for many a happy week. She was in love with him, and he would never let go of her--not for one moment.