this creative mind would never make him like you. no matter how colorful you color your words, or how you decorate it with pretty flowers, he wouldn't like you.

he asked you about the rain, you answered and thought of it as a release. a burst of emotion, just like letting go. but it seems that he had brought an umbrella and avoided your indirect release of feelings, or maybe he took shelter upon a waiting shed. as he stands alone, waiting for the one his heart yearns for, you continue to shower him with your deepest feelings through the form of raindrops that make sound above the roof, desperately wanting for his attention.