We met in the rain. Yet, your hair wasn’t wet because you held an umbrella flush to your chest. The drops cut through the burning street lamps that lined the cobblestone road, leaving behind blurry streaks of blue. Squeaking boots from streets over left us alone but reminded us it was not, truly, just the two of us. Your dark eyes searched me for what? Money? Or sex? Both. You took my hand but I tugged you in the opposite direction of your pull. You whispered your name in my