Girls Love

Lucky Rain (Revised)

Rainy days were the absolute worst. I had lost my umbrella somewhere between the bus stop and the lecture hall, and I stumbled into class, drenched and fifteen minutes late. To make matters worse, the university had canceled the outdoor art event, the one thing I had been looking forward to all week.

It was shaping up to be the worst day ever. I absolutely hated those people who romanticized the rain - the ones who gushed about how wonderful it was to see the rain pouring or how invigorating it felt to walk in a downpour. Those types of people were the worst.

After my second class, I was about to head home, hopeful that the rain had finally stopped. I was wrong. As I was stepping outside, it started raining again, and I was instantly soaked.

Mentally, I was cursing the universe. A wave of frustration washed over me, hot tears pricking my eyes. Just as I was turning around to go and try to dry myself, I bumped into someone. My phone slipped from my grasp and landed face down in a puddle.

As I saw that, I closed my eyes and just gave up on this day. I forgot that I had bumped into someone, and just picked up my phone, and kept walking. I practically flew into the bathroom, throwing my bag and books onto the counter. My body slumped against the tiled wall, and I slid down until I was sitting on the cold, hard floor.

My head pounded in time with the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the window. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I buried my face in my arms. Suddenly, I felt a warm, small hand gently stroking my hair. A sweet, almost floral perfume wafted around me.

I looked up, startled. A girl was gazing at me with a soft, sympathetic smile. I scrambled to my feet, my eyes finally focusing on her properly. She was a bit shorter than me, with kind eyes and delicate features.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice like a gentle melody.

I sniffled, embarrassed to be caught in such a state. "No," I mumbled, "not really."

She opened her bag, took out a delicate lace handkerchief, and leaned forward. Before I knew it, she was gently dabbing at my tears. The sweet scent of strawberries lingered in the air, and I could feel the warmth of her hand radiating through the delicate fabric.

She lost her balance for a moment, and I instinctively reached out to steady her. As I caught her, I was struck by the contrast between my cold, damp skin, and the warmth of her body. She felt soft and incredibly warm in my arms. Unconsciously, I held her close for what felt like minutes. Her hands gently caressed my back, since she couldn't quite reach my head.

Slowly, my terrible day was transforming into something... sweet. She took my hand, her touch sending a tingle through my arm, and led me to the home economics classroom. It was a cozy space filled with the lingering aroma of baking bread and spices. She somehow managed to conjure up a steaming bowl of soup, placing it carefully on a table in the corner.

She sat down opposite me, her smile widening as she watched me eat, carefully blowing on the spoon to avoid burning my tongue. The soup was incredible - rich, savory, and the perfect antidote to the miserable day.

As warmth spread through my chilled body, I felt a surge of gratitude and affection for the girl sitting across from me. Without thinking, I blurted out the words that I never thought I'd say: "Marry me..."

After a few stunned seconds, I stopped eating, the spoon clattering into the bowl. My eyes widened in horror. I was about to stammer out an apology, but she spoke first, her voice calm and steady. "Sure," she said, her smile widening. "I would be glad."

Her words sent my heart racing. Had I lost my mind? Maybe. But in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the home economics classroom, the rain drumming a gentle rhythm against the windows, I knew I had found something extraordinary. On the worst, rainiest day of my life, I found love.

"I... I didn't mean..." I stammered, my cheeks burning.

She giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I know," she said softly. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

"I'm Elara," she added, extending her hand towards me.

"I'm... I'm Suki," I replied, taking her hand, surprised by the jolt that ran up my arm at her touch.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in the home economics classroom, talking and laughing as if we had known each other for years. Elara was funny, intelligent, and surprisingly easy to talk to. She told me about her passion for baking, her dreams of opening her own bakery one day. I found myself opening up to her in a way I hadn't with anyone else, sharing my anxieties about university, my love for art, and my secret fear of ending up alone.

As the rain finally subsided and the sun began to peek through the clouds, we reluctantly decided to head home. We walked out of the school building together, the air fresh and clean after the rain.

"I had a really nice time, Suki," Elara said, her voice sincere.

"Me too, Elara," I replied, my heart feeling lighter than it had in days.

We exchanged numbers, promising to meet again soon. As I walked away, I couldn't help but smile. The rain had washed away my bad mood, leaving behind a sense of hope and anticipation. And it was all thanks to a chance encounter with a kind stranger, a girl named Elara who had shown me that even the worst day could have a surprisingly sweet ending.