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Whispers of the Rain

Isomxon_Ismailov
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chs / week
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Synopsis
Synopsis: Ayla thought love was overrated—until a rainstorm brought Caden into her life. He’s charming, persistent, and seems determined to break through her carefully built walls. But with emotional scars from her past and a habit of keeping people at a distance, Ayla isn’t sure she’s ready to let anyone in. Caden has his own baggage—a broken family, a nosy sister, and a knack for making everything more complicated. But the more time he spends with Ayla, the more he realizes she might be exactly what he’s been searching for. As the rain keeps falling, misunderstandings and unexpected events push them closer—and further apart. Can they weather the storm together, or will their insecurities and past mistakes tear them apart? In a story where love grows slowly, but deeply, Whispers of the Rain explores second chances, personal growth, and finding hope even on the cloudiest days.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Rainfall Beginnings

Chapter 1: Rainfall Beginnings

The rain poured relentlessly, drumming against café awnings, taxi roofs, and unlucky pedestrians who hadn't checked the weather app. For Ayla Ren, this was just another reason to curse the universe.

She huddled under her cheap umbrella—a flimsy thing she bought at a discount store, mostly out of spite—and tried to ignore how the wind was actively plotting her demise. A sharp gust flipped the umbrella inside out, the metal spokes sticking out like a defeated bat.

"Of course," Ayla muttered, struggling to wrestle it back into shape as cold raindrops plastered her hair to her forehead. She gave up after two seconds, muttering, "Why not just rain harder? Go ahead. Ruin my day, why don't you?"

And that's exactly when the universe sent a man.

"Having fun?" a deep voice asked from beside her.

She looked up, scowling—and froze. Standing there with the most obnoxiously perfect black umbrella was a stranger who looked like he walked out of an Instagram ad. His dark trench coat fit a little too well, and his hair seemed immune to the rain. Who even looked this good during a storm? It was like the weather respected him.

Ayla blinked. "Not really. But thanks for asking."

The man's lips curved into a smirk. "Looks like your umbrella has seen better days."

"It's not broken," Ayla said, holding up the inside-out disaster. "It's just… creatively challenged."

He chuckled, and before she could react, he tilted his umbrella to cover both of them. "Come on. You look like you've had enough of nature's sense of humor."

Ayla gave him a skeptical glance. "What, are you one of those umbrella philanthropists who just go around rescuing wet strangers?"

"Pretty much." He grinned. "Strictly pro bono, though. The umbrella game is a passion, not a paycheck."

Despite herself, Ayla snorted. "You're ridiculous."

"Guilty." He shot her a playful look. "Now, let's get you out of the rain before you drown."

They started walking side by side, navigating puddles and dodging splashes from passing cars. Ayla kept glancing at him—half to make sure he wasn't a serial killer, and half because he was, annoyingly, very easy on the eyes.

"So," she asked, "do you always make a habit of saving people during storms?"

"Not always," he said thoughtfully. "Sometimes I wait until after they're soaked, but you looked like you were right on the edge. Thought I'd spare you."

"How considerate." Ayla rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips.

They reached a cozy little café, its windows fogged up from the warmth inside. The man opened the door for her with a slight bow. "After you, Miss Creatively Challenged Umbrella."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Umbrella Philanthropist," she shot back, stepping inside.

The café was warm and smelled of espresso and pastries. They found a small table by the window, where the rain streaked down the glass in lazy patterns.

"By the way," he said as they sat, "I don't think I got your name."

"Ayla." She brushed a wet strand of hair out of her face. "And you?"

"Caden." He leaned back, flashing a grin. "Nice to meet you, Ayla. Officially."

A waitress came by, and Ayla ordered a cappuccino, still trying to process the fact that she was sitting in a café with a stranger who might just be the smoothest person she'd ever met.

"Don't tell me," Caden said when the waitress left. "You're one of those people who secretly like the rain, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?" Ayla arched an eyebrow.

"Just a hunch." He rested his chin on one hand, smirking. "The kind of person who says things like, 'Rain is calming' or 'It's romantic.' But in reality, you hate when your shoes get wet."

Ayla burst out laughing. "Okay, that's… surprisingly accurate."

Caden gave her a mock-serious look. "I knew it. You're a closet rain hater masquerading as a rain lover. The worst kind."

"Hey!" Ayla said, laughing harder. "I do like rain—just… preferably from inside a dry building."

"Ah, yes. The old 'enjoy it through a window' trick. Classic."

Their banter felt easy, like they were old friends instead of two strangers who had just met in a downpour. Outside, the rain continued to fall, but inside the little café, it felt like they were in their own world.

Ayla sipped her coffee, glancing out at the rain-soaked street. "You know," she said, half to herself, "this is probably the weirdest way I've ever met someone."

Caden leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I don't know. I'd say it's kind of poetic. Two strangers, one broken umbrella, and a whole lot of bad weather."

"Or the start of a really weird rom-com," Ayla muttered, shaking her head.

Caden grinned. "We'll see."