Like The Deserts Miss the Rain

I was ever more dreading the engagement we had made this afternoon.
But when he walked towards me, the anger and frustration rolled off my shoulders, like water on a duck's back. He put his arms around me and kissed me in the middle of the sidewalk.
I slipped into an easy cuddle, and he ran his fingers through my hair, along the side of face, and up and down my arms. There were moments I could feel him looking at me, feeling him adore me.
In the pet store I saw dead fish in the filter. I couldn't vocalize my shock and agony for these poor fish, so I just clutched his hand, tight tighter. I waited for him to ask me what was wrong, but he didn't. I just held on tighter.
In the bookstore we sat on the floor, and I laid my head across his lap. We decided to read the spark notes so we didn't look too weird laying on the floor in Barnes and Noble. He ran his fingers slowly through my hair, something that always put me at utter and terrible peace. I felt I could fall asleep right here, in Barnes and Noble, but I knew that was a bad idea.
It felt comfy, having someone there. The light rain fell, and just faintly above all the din and car exhaust, I caught wafts of my shampoo, enlivened by the faint drizzle in the air.
Small moments that seemed so comfy, even as I stood in the cold waiting for the bus.
I didn't know what to think of it all.