So cheesy or romantic stuff isn't usually my thing when I write, but this kinda just popped into my head as I wrote it out so ya

There was a sort of sadness that hung in the air on the day it happened. The trees seemed to sag with the pressure of the ever falling rain and the muddy roads were nearly impossible to navigate. It was a day for most that would be filled with sorrow for the gray of the sky cast a glare as it wailed with despair. The rain was heavy, yet not violent. It was, as most would say, a truly gloomy day.

But not for them. For them it was a quiet day. For them, the sky was calm and pacifying. The rain's drum on the roof and on the floors was a steady one that played softly from the shelter of their small home. They were not gloomy that day, for they knew the rain was a blessing. It for them was a sign of rest from the usually bright bustle of everyday life, and they welcomed the rain.

And they did not leave their room that day, for they had no true reason to. They only had reason to speak to each other in hushed voices not having anything truly meaningful to say. But they had no need for meaning on this day. They spoke to each other with gentleness only to be used for things truly considered fragile. For while they may not have been that way, they would still speak as if they were. They did not see the other as weak, but as precious. For each cared very much for the other. And each did not want to risk the possibility of hurting the other or the peaceful air that the rainy day had cast upon them.

They lay for hours, only speaking to the other as if none else could matter to them in that moment. It was the day that they had realized their love that tied them to the other. For that is a gift of the rain. It is a gift to all who need it. And it was a gift to them.