It was ever-so-calming, the sound of raindrops tickling at the windowpane; a soft, relaxing staccato that, somehow, though it washed away the earth's impurities, never seemed capable of washing away his own--each and every individual sorrow still managing to find him, to burrow itself deep within the confines of his mind; a poison that ate away at the flesh of his brain, scars of his irreparable imperfections. Outside, ominous grey clouds hung overhead the bustling campus below, the students unperturbed by the occasional streaks of lightning that flashed across the sky, or of the booming claps of thunder that followed soon afterwards--odd occurrences though they were in the midst of winter. Rather, they continued moving purposefully along nonetheless, like an army of ants following the orders of their queen, towards predetermined destinations, umbrellas and books held firmly above their heads to keep their clothing from becoming soaked—just as he soon would be, though without a similar expression of either determination or annoyance plastered across his porcelain features. Perhaps, he simply didn't have it in him to outwardly express either one extreme or the other.
After taking one final look through the now water-streaked glass of his bedroom window, Yixing took to slipping on a pair a of worn out Converse, the black fabric now faded and heavily tattered and torn, and gathered his more vital belongings - which, in truth, was nothing more a cell phone and his wallet - before leaving the warm, dry comfort of his dorm. As he stepped out onto the pavement just outside of the building, he pulled up the hood of his jacket, shielding himself from the incessant downpour to the best of his ability, before finally beginning his journey—which would, in truth, take him no longer than the span of five minutes or so as long as he managed to catch the bus.
Presently, he had no destination in mind save for his current place of employment - a bookstore by the name of Newsprint, which was nestled comfortably in between two other relatively small establishments within the mall, though Yixing had never taken to visiting either one of them - and as he arrived at the bus stop, now soaked to the bone and his waterlogged clothing loosely clinging to his slender frame, he noticed the bus that he had been meant to catch driving away into the distance and quickly shrinking away until it had vanished from his line of sight entirely, taking any hope that he'd had of escaping the storm along with it. A sullen sigh escaped his lips, expression remaining placid even so, as he continued trudging along through the sheets of bone-chilling rain, goosebumps now prickling at his pale flesh. Briefly, the thought of calling for a taxi had floated into his mind, but once being struck by the realization that he wasn't even aware of what number to dial, it had dissipated just as quickly as it had appeared. This was why he never bothered to hope for the best, to look on the bright side of things--good fortune had never come to him in the past; it certainly wouldn't arrive now.
