room 93 ; lrh

hurricane

it rained.
a lot.
i didn't complain, and neither did she.
we pulled over to the side of the road and watched as the pellets of rain fell down the windows.
some indie pop band was softly playing in the background.
next thing i know, i'm tracing patterns on her skin while she traces the patterns of the raindrops.
"this is the reason hurricanes are named after people."
is what she whispered to me when i couldn't see because of the fog steaming up the windows of the car.
i told her i loved then.
she told me she didn't belong to no man.