It was raining. He was taking refuge at the bus stop. He was reading. Then she came, with her friends, soaked by the drizzles. He looked at her but she was laughing with her friends. She didn’t notice him. He was pretending to not noticing her too. He reached for the rain with his hand. She glimpsed. He was shaking. He looked at her and waved dismissively. She smiled and waved back. His knees shuddered. He wanted to go and talk to her, but he was afraid. She kept glimpsing, hoping for him to come greets her. It was awkward. He felt awkward.

She would stare at him and he would pay no heed, pretentiously. He would gaze at her; she would look at her feet. He kept smiling and she would response. It was awkward. He felt more awkward.The rain didn’t stop. He wished it didn’t stop.
She decided to go. He frowned. He didn’t want her to go.
She looked at him, with her eyes filing with hope.
He stared back and smiled sheepishly.
He looked like a silly.

Then she rushed towards him and sat next to him.
She laid her head on his shoulder.
Silent crept in.
His eyes got swollen. There’s a lump in his throat.
She kissed him, at the cheek. She murmured something to his ears and she ran, letting the rain enticed her.

He smiled gleefully, warm tears rolled down his glaring eyes.

I’ll be waiting, he said