If he is thunder, can my tears be the rain whose sound he hides?
I sat in the rain, drenched. It was a long and tiring day; I had been lectured by my parents to pay more attention to my studies and recently, I had been doubting my self-worth. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I saw someone walk towards me, his head tilted in trying to make out who I was.
I heard the thunder getting closer, but I dared not run.
“Nishinoya,” I called out to him, choosing not to hide from him. On seeing me, his eyes darkened and he clenched his fists furiously. His scrunched up eyebrows and deep set frown were a huge give-away to his anger.
“(Y/n), what are you...?! Why are you...?!” he was at a loss for words. He walked briskly towards the bench I was sitting on and immediately demanded from me, “Tell me!”