Fourteen: Duvet

There were a lot of things to learn about her.

But he never quite imagined that one of them would be her having a fear of loud thunderstorms.

Not the average kind, but rather the loud ones, the ones that made the windows literally rattle and the floors vibrate under their feet ominously. Lightning flashed now and again, the really bright ones that reminded him far too much of crime scenes being documented with heavy duty cameras with obnoxiously strong flashbulbs. Chicago was being pelted down by thick blankets of rain and rattled the city as if it was really trying to do some real damage.

It's not going to damage her, but he can see it bothers her enough to curl up next to him, her body wrapped in the heavy duvet she had bought for his bed, her hair fanned over his chest and shoulders and a pillow clutched to her between them. Talking had been out of the question, as the loud crashes over their heads tended to demand they raise their voice to be heard over the din. It wasn't worth it.

He doesn't speak, instead, holds her closer and hopes she can find some way to sleep.

She doesn't of course, if the pattern of her breathing was anything to go by. Instead, she shivered against him briefly and curled up even tighter, body shifting underneath the duvet before pulling it tighter around her. He wordlessly assisted by pulling on the heavy fabric himself, patting it down gently around her and she settled against him once more.

He didn't mean to be a cad but somehow he couldn't help but be content to have learned something new about her when he thought he'd had her figured out already.

That and he couldn't help but feel happy to have some form of confirmation she trusted him enough to show she wasn't superwoman all the time. He's always known she had flaws, she'd just yet to show them. This was her, with her guard down, allowing him the rarest of glimpses.

He found that he liked it, seeing a side of her that needed someone like him.