don't be fooled by what you leave behind
So if, hypothetically, Helena and John were wandering the streets, occasionally subtly defacing public property with nearly hidden graffiti -- which of course they would not do because they are upstanding citizens and their parents and guardians respectively are government employees -- drawn with a sharpie, it only stands to reason that it would rain.
This time of the year, it's not of the bone-chilling variety, though neither is it quite warm enough to classify as spring rains. John's mouth takes on an irritated, almost defensive set; he caps his sharpie (that he was not using to draw on the underside of the back of a parkbench) and takes Helena's hand firmly, as if daring (her? An onlooker?) to protest otherwise, and looks around for appropriate shelter.
This time of the year, it's not of the bone-chilling variety, though neither is it quite warm enough to classify as spring rains. John's mouth takes on an irritated, almost defensive set; he caps his sharpie (that he was not using to draw on the underside of the back of a parkbench) and takes Helena's hand firmly, as if daring (her? An onlooker?) to protest otherwise, and looks around for appropriate shelter.