A.N. So, this is C.C. here, great to see ya. This is the start of a series of things that I write. They come when the scene strikes me, or from a 100 theme challenge. This is a mix of both, this chapter. It's not that great, and kinda melancholy, so I don't expect much from it. x3

Warning: None. Maybe swearing? I don't think so though.

Disclaimer: I don't own, never will. Foreshadowing? Does that even count?

Pairings/Character: Zack Fair, no pairing.

Theme/inspiration: Rain/Storming

When it rained, he could almost lose himself.

Thin wisps of smoke curled and danced from his mouth as he exhaled, reaching for the ceiling, and disappearing before it got half way. The cigarette that dangled in his almost limp hand that was hanging off the bed. His other lay sprawled over the other half of his bed, and he couldn't quite convince himself to get up and go about his day.

The lights remained dim, inside, but outwardly, the whirled flashed, lightning forking in the sky with a crack. The rain pounded on the windows, on the buildings, on the people.

The hopes and the dreams of the world, savored the free shower. The grime of doubts and mistakes, washed away, if for just a moment. They would be back with the wind of the morrow.

Good God, he was starting to sound like Genesis.

A dry chuckle echoed in the dark room, and he brought the coffin nail back to his lips, sucking in the toxins.

Like they could do anything to him. Ah, the joys of mako.

A cynical smile touched his lips.

He was just lucky, that his days off coincided with the weather. Otherwise, he was pretty sure that the General would be ringing him up, demanding just why he wasn't out there doing his job. Of course, not that Seph would ever phrase it like that. He'd use big words that would run in circles, without really ever insulting him, but letting him know that he was clearly being reprimanded.

The cigarette holding hand fell back to it's former position, and he sighed, closing his eyes off the sight of the smoke curling towards it's death.

Rainy days, were his favorite, in a way.

They gave him a chance to sleep longer, deeper.

They gave him a chance to just relax, and listen to the pulse of the storm.

They gave him a chance to drop his mask, and be himself, with no prying eyes.

They let him ponder, even If the thoughts need not be pondered.

Slowly, mako – lit blue eyes opened, to peer at the ceiling, where the fan whirled, 'round and 'round. A slow smile spread over his face, as thunder shook the windows in their frames. It was the best sound in the world, aside from the sound of the laugh from the person who held his heart in their hands.

A sound that he heard far too infrequently.

As he lifted his hand to take another drag, an amusing thought crossed his mind.

When he died, he probably wouldn't lift a damn finger it was raining. What a way to go. The smile widened. Yeah, what a way to go.

A/N: So, there you go. Review if you like, or if you don't, whatever. This won't be updated regularly, but just when it strikes me, kay? Ta ta for now.

- C.C.

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