Pitter Patter Of Hearts

Chapter two

Two days later, I walk by one of the shops that sells corny ass shit like rainpots. I had to tiptoe my way out of the building in a way that Aarav wouldn't trail after me. I'm more afraid to be seen by Aarav than I am to be seen by parents. Why? Because he would laugh at me like I've gone crazy over a boy, enough to believe in this stuff.

But there I am in front of the store on a rainy evening, holding an unidentifiable red umbrella that I borrowed from Mrs. Jadeja who lives a floor below mine (because I couldn't risk being caught dead under my otherwise clear umbrella with daisy print), hesitating to enter the antique looking store.

Taking a deep breath, I hope that it would be of at least some use to waste money over a silly little pot. I did my research on this on the Internet for two days before I finally decided to buy one as it's monsoon- not that I believe in it but I could maybe use it as a common ground to break ice with Varsh.

Apparently, according to the bullshit articles on the internet, when we go to buy a rainpot, we'd know which one to buy immediately and if we don't, we should go to another store to see if we get that feeling.

There's a small tutorial video of three minutes that teaches us how to tie the pot near a window or to a balcony and also the basic morse code (thank God I know it well) to decode the pitter patter of the rain to make out letters and sentences. But apparently the message would only be if your soulmate already talked to the moon about you, otherwise there would be a nonsensical message. As if the whole thing isn't just as nonsensical and illogical.

I shake my hesitations off and step into the store, a little bell ringing over my head making an elderly woman snap her head towards me. With a huge smile, she welcomed me into the shop.

"What would you like, dear? I may help with a few suggestions." She has a sweet voice and a warm aura but still, I hesitate for a few moments.

Exhaling through my mouth, I look around before whispering. "I'd like a…rai-rainpot."

"Of course, come here, there's a collection," I follow her to an aisle filled with pots of various sizes.

My eyes roam the sections of the aisles before they stick on a purple-hued pot with little hearts decorated by its sides. I drag my eyes to see other pots but my attention falls back to that purple one. I frown, remembering that stupid article.

The old lady's voice has a hint of a smile to it. "Well, it seems like that's yours to take home."

She hands me the pot, it's the size of my palm, like a little vial of ridiculousness. It's made out of ceramic with details paid a good amount of attention to. I pay the bill and hide it in my bag before I rush my steps towards my apartment.