Oneshots by worldoftom [t.h. x female]

Rain

Summary: You've been struggling with writer's block for weeks, but thankfully your best friend was in town to comfort you.

Words: 1.5k (ish)

Warnings: mild angst over writer's block, everything else is soft

A/N: Rewritten from an old short story of mine.

*

You wanted this so much, but nothing was happening. The words didn't seem to flow. This was leaving you so frustrated; you just wanted to write it down and get the idea out of your head once and for all.

You'd been struggling with a new piece for the past four weeks, that constant itch to write creeping up at you in several occasions, that deep breath of inspiration pulling you towards your notebooks, but when you actually sat down with a pen, your brain froze.

Everything in you froze.

So far you'd managed to jot down a few words, but none of them were good enough. You needed something tangible, the certain kind of light, unusual words that used to bring shivers up your spine.

These days, the furthest you'd gotten was the urge to tear apart your book, because maybe this was it. You were done. You wished you could crawl out of your own skin and assess your own work, your whole damn self from a brand new perspective, but that was impossible.

That left you terribly uptight and you knew you'd been very difficult to put up with ever since this words crisis started. You couldn't even be sure why you felt this way; you just did.

Tonight, it was so bad that you groaned to yourself and dropped your head over your notebook, not bothering to complain about any discomfort on you or the book. You opened your eyes and stared at the meaningless scribbles on these two pages, but they felt blank and bland. Nothing made sense right now, and nothing called out for your heart loud enough to make you pay attention. You wanted to focus, but none of your usual techniques had been working in weeks. It was devastating.

Totally upset with yourself, you sat at your desk and kept your head low, moving your arms to cover it and wishing to be in a different reality. One where words actually meant something to you. You were just breathing and not thinking, trying to relax and focus on your idea, but then you heard it. Outside. In the silence. In the twilight.

**

You sat on the window seat, feeling lonely and defeated. Your blocked mind had won and you weren't strong enough to fight back. Not anymore. You just sat there, leaning against the glass, looking outside straight into the bright light of the street lamp. It was directly in your sightline, across the small back yard, but it was adequate for the mood.

Everything around it was getting dark on this tremendous autumn day, but if there was something that appeased you, was the way the rain fell outside. It was not only soothing; it was magical. You felt your soul empty of every frustration and no matter what you felt, good or bad, superficial or intense, the rain would take it all away.

It was just you and the water drops, becoming one single entity, capable of surviving any war. As long as it was raining, you knew you'd be alright. You opened the window when your soul was bare and free, and the rain started falling harder, hitting the neighborhood roofs with a deafening sound.

You inhaled it deeply, that wonderful smell of wet dirt all around you, and your sudden inability to write was a faraway worry. You had tonight, you had the rain, and you certainly had a shitload of problems to get rid of during your favorite season.