"May I be the rain?"

It had been a long day at work when the cell beeped to indicate that a text message had arrived. He looked at it, and involuntarily smiled when he saw who it was from. She always brought a smile to his face. Momentarily he forgot the deadline he had to meet, the deliverable his boss was waiting for.

She said in her text, that she was craving for ice-cream. It was a chill, rainy evening. Not an evening really for ice cream. But how many have fathomed how a woman functions. Least of all him.

He didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. She had communicated with him on email during the day. She texted him about the ice-cream. And now there was every chance that he might get to see her.

He wasn't familiar with ice-cream parlours where she lived. After a few hurried phone calls, he found out where a good joint existed. Getting there was turning out to be a problem. The heavy rains seemed to have got traffic moving at a snail's pace. He tried hard to shut out the impatience creeping in.

She wanted litchis and ice cream. He got himself some strawberry.

He even managed to knock on the wrong door, to be quite impolitely shooed away.

Finally, he arrived at her door. She never failed to take his breath away, every time he laid eyes on her.

Her place has this lovely balcony that looked out upon the entire city practically.
On a chilly, rainy evening, looking out at the night sky, ice cream in hand, her shining eyes and 'melt your resolve' smile for company, it was surreal and dream like to him.

As he walked out the door, he asked her, "May I be the rain, from earlier in the evening?".

What she actually heard him say though was a soft "good night".