Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
Telling me just what a fool I've been
I wish that it would go and let me cry in the rain
Let me be alone again
The night was pitch black, and heavy rain poured outside the window.
The thick curtain of rain blurred the neon lights on the street, the music drifting from afar, and the city's hustle and bustle. A downpour turned this city of desire into a city of watching the rain; tonight, everyone was watching the rain.
In Luca's bedroom, the lights were bright because some mischievous person had turned on every single one.
The LED lights on the ceiling shone bright white, dazzling and radiant. The lights in the corners of the walls were a milky white, soft and warm like milk, while the bedside lamp glowed a warm orange, like the light of dusk—cozy and serene. With all the lights on, the room felt warm and inviting, especially when there were only two people inside.
"Today's rain is beautiful!"
Britney sat on the windowsill, gazing at the rain through the wide glass window. She took a swig from the beer sitting beside her.
"Britney, put this on, or you'll catch a cold,"
Luca draped a cashmere blanket over her shoulders. As he did so, his hand accidentally touched her thigh. It was as cool as jade, smooth and pale.
"I don't want that. It's not cool to wear it,"
Britney protested, pushing his hand away.
Luca ignored her refusal, scooped her up, and tossed her onto the bed. He wrapped the blanket around her from the chest down, bundling her up tightly, and then placed her back on the windowsill.
Britney gritted her teeth and glared at him fiercely, "Luca, if I had a knife right now, I'd stab you, then stab myself."
"We'll talk when you actually have a knife,"
Luca shrugged and turned on his computer to work on his script.
"Jerk! What are you doing? Aren't you going to join me?"
Britney tapped the windowsill beside her and said, "Last time, I invited you to my house to watch the sunset. Now that I'm at your place, you should watch the rain with me."
"Alright, alright!"
Luca jumped onto the windowsill and sat facing her. The two-foot-wide windowsill, usually cluttered with airplane models, had long been cleared out and moved to the corner of the room.
"Luca, do you like the rain?"
"I do, because I like staying home. Whenever it rains, I can stand on the windowsill and watch the people downstairs running around in the rain. Seeing some get soaked like drowned rats makes me feel lucky."
"You're such a bad guy,"
Britney chuckled softly and threw a can of beer at him, which the goalkeeper, Luca, caught effortlessly.
Luca opened the dark beer and took a gulp. The charred malt aroma filled his mouth. Since he first drank it at Britney's place, he had slowly grown fond of the taste of dark beer.
"You know, this is the first time I've liked the rain,"
Britney pressed her face against the glass, tracing it with her fingers. She couldn't touch the rain through the glass, but she could feel its chill and a faint sense of cold.
"It's also the first time someone has watched the rain with me."
Luca imitated her, pressing his face against the glass, staring blankly at the rain outside.
Britney's lips curved into a smile. She looked at the heavy rain outside, then at the person in front of her, and a sudden impulse surged within her heart.
"Luca, let's go get soaked in the rain!"
"Don't be silly!"
Luca shook his head.
Bang!
Britney jumped off the windowsill, yanking off the blanket.
"What are you doing?"
Luca asked in surprise.
"Getting soaked in the rain! Coming or not? If not, forget it!"
Before he could answer, Britney opened the door and ran out barefoot.
"Fuck!"
Luca slapped his forehead, put on his shoes, and chased after her.
"Stop it!"
He used his long legs to block her in the living room.
"Are you trying to imprison me too?"
Britney asked with a frown.
Luca reluctantly released his arms.
Wearing only slippers and a rainbow skirt, Britney dashed out.
Luca had no choice but to chase after her closely.
On the pitch-black 76th Street, there were no people, no cars, only an endless curtain of rain, darkness, and a few dim streetlights.
Now there was a girl running freely in the rain. She wore a rainbow skirt, her blonde hair flowing, and she ran with all her might. Soon, one of her shoes slipped off.
A tall figure behind her picked up the shoe and chased after her.
The rain, once quiet and like a black backdrop, now had two lively figures. One was colorful like a rainbow dancing in the sky, the other was gray, like a guardian of the rainbow, a silent shadow.
The night grew deeper, and the rain fell harder. After running for an unknown length of time, the rainbow skirt in front suddenly stopped and stood silently in the rain.
The gray figure quickly caught up, taking off his coat to shield the rainbow skirt.
The rainbow skirt suddenly leaped up and embraced the gray figure tightly. They kissed passionately in the rain, as if the world around them ceased to exist.
Click~
Across the street on 76th Street, old photographer Kevin Donovan captured the scene with his camera.
In his youth, Kevin had been a photojournalist for over twenty years. His passion for photography eventually led him to become a professional photographer for *National Geographic.* Throughout his life, he captured countless stunning moments, winning the Pulitzer Prize for Feature Photography twice.
Now in his seventies, Kevin moved around with a wheelchair, his daily activity area less than a hundred square feet. At most, he could sit on the bench downstairs, watching dogs urinate. He thought he would never pick up his camera again.
But just now, while watching the rain from his window, he witnessed a scene on the street below. His old, hardened heart was suddenly stirred by the two figures in the rain, reminiscent of the countless heart-pounding moments from his youth.
He hurriedly took out his well-maintained Leica camera, capturing the scene of the two chasing and embracing in the rain with his stiff fingers.
"YES!"
The old man pumped his fist, a gesture he made whenever he captured the most beautiful and breathtaking moment.
He looked at the photo in his camera. In the dark night, the drizzle looked like TV static—only black and white. But amid this black-and-white static was a colorful figure, embracing a gray shadow with all her might.
But the gray shadow was so dim that, in the rain, it only left a faint outline. The rainbow skirt seemed to be floating, as if she was embracing the night itself, kissing the rain, or maybe even the whole world.
"So perfect, haha~"
The old man grinned, his throat making a dry chuckling sound. He planned to publish this photo in *The New York Times* as his final work, a perfect end to his life.
"Thank you, young people!"
The old man whispered to the two figures.
"Achoo! Achoo!"
Two loud sneezes and a burst of joyful laughter answered him.
The old man chuckled, "Youth is wonderful!"
The night grew darker. The two figures had long disappeared into the rain. The old man gazed at the photo and gradually fell asleep.
(End of chapter)