‘I love the rain,’ he said, closing his eyes and tipping his head up to the sky.


The rain grew harder, flooding his feet. He opened his eyes to a woman surfacing from an inch-deep puddle as if from the depths of the ocean. 

Her hair was lank and thick with grit. Her skin was mud-slicked, and her eyes were dark holes in which he could see stormcloud skies. She hung her head, suddenly shy.

‘Really.’ He held out his hands, and she took them.

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