Tonight in the Rain

Down. Rain always falls, and down it came. She heard it. She felt it in her bones. Though behind her the air was thick and warm, the windows held out nothing but the wet. Waves of cold like clammy fingers reached to her, surrounding her, and him, though he was nowhere near the window. He held out a hand for her to take, but she didn't see it. With her forehead pressed against the window, all she saw was the storm outside. He allowed his hand to drop, knowing she was dreaming of the rain. He stepped close, right up behind her, and placed his chin atop her head as he wrapped his arms around her.

She started at his touch, but sank against him almost at once.

"Do you think we could?"

He smiled. We shouldn't. We always could, but you know we shouldn't." He leaned away a bit so he could look at her. "I mean, it's wet out there. And you're cold enough already. I think you should come back to bed." He knew, though he didn't say it, she took it as 'The bed is warm and dry.'

She shrugged. "But wouldn't it be fun?"

He remained silent. A minute passed, then two.

"I guess it would be. Maybe."

She'd won. And she knew it.

His grip around her tightened and she squealed; he'd lifted her into the air. She tossed her head, shaking her hair from the clip that held it, and it fell like copper across her face as she laughed. She faked a scream and kicked her legs, though she knew, in the end, that hed let her go if only she'd ask. He knew she wouldn't. He carried her from the room, carrying her like would an infant, or like he did their wedding day across the threshold of the house that they had both come to love.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled close to his neck, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as they descended the stairs. As they reached the bottom, he knew without being told to let her down. He tossed his own hair out of the way so he could watch her practically run to the foyer and throw open the door. She turned and came back to him, a single arm outstretched to pull him with her. She shot to her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips, and before he could lock his arms behind her she was gone from him again, enticing him out into the sound deluge. She danced on the porch to the music in her head, singing aloud in her ecstasy. Then she mellowed. She grabbed his hand, leading him across the porch and down the steps, out into the rain. One they were both out there, she let go of his hand and raised her head, turning three slow circles, singing,

"Here I stand,

sad and free

I can't cry, I can't see

What I've done

God, what have I done.."

She couldn't remember most of the words, but he filled in those she missed. She tumbled into his arms as he stepped forward to pull her to him. This song always made her cry. She was crying, then, as he held her in the rain. Tears mingled with raindrops, and they rocked together there. Then he kissed her, and lifted her into the air. She was laughing now, and he laughed with her as she realized that her hair was plastered to her face, and his.He spun her once, and again, and son they were both spilling onto the sweet-smelling grass, laughing like the fools they loved being. It seemed like forever already, the joining of their worlds.

As he sat up she leaped upon him, pressing her hands flat across his chest and running them down to the lower hem of his shirt. She leaned down and kissed him again, then wrenched his shirt up over his head so that she could watch the water condense and glossily run off his shoulders. His laugh became deep and husky as he pulled her close to him. To feel the shape of her womanly curves and her damp clothes against his bare skin was almost too much for him to deal with.

His muscles tightened as if they bore a great heavy load, his heart rampaged in his chest like the panicked beating of fists upon a locked door, threatening escape.

She pressed an ear to his chest and laughed as she tried to look him in the eyes and failed. She placed her hand on his chest once more and lightly pushed him away.

"There it goes. It just never gets old." This was her private joke with him. She cherished the look he gave her that both begged for her to stop, and cried for her to continue this divine sort of torture.

She couldn't't decide between the two.

They were both soaked with rain and salty tears. He pulled her close once more and laid a trail of kisses up her neck. She took his face in her hands, barely touching him and as they stood together there, drenched and cold, but happy, she knew. They both knew. He was glad that she had won.

The End.