There were days when rain came. And those were days when Oz did not visit. Those were days that Gilbert particularly found annoying. However, one day, when Gilbert stepped outside of Nightray Manor to smoke, he saw something. It wasn't the lightning from the storm, nor the torrential rains that came with it, but sunshine blonde hair and grass green eyes. Completely soaked. Drenched to the bone. With rain. The boy looked completely worn out, like a rag that had been used until the edges finally frayed. With a start, Gilbert ran into the driving rain. "Oz!" He cried when he reached the boy whose hair fell in limp, wet strings over his eyes.
In a peculiar movement, the Vessalius heir only slowly looked up at Gilbert, then began to shudder violently from the cold, mumbling. "I w-w-wanted to s-see you again, G-Gil-kun... b-but I didn't know it was g-gonna rain like this..." Gilbert heaved a worried sigh and dropped his cigarette on the ground and picked up the shivering bundle that stood before him.
Rain was not fitting to Oz's image. Oz was far too bright and sunny of a teen to be in the rain. It simply did not look right. Sort of like wearing a striped shirt with polka-dotted bottoms; they clashed – severely. Oz's head fell limply to the Nightray's shoulder, blonde locks of hair pasting themselves wetly to Gil's neck. Quickly, Gilbert thought, I have to get him some heat or something, or he'll catch a cold.
The fireplace crackled with new life. Fire licked and scorched the sides of the brick enclosure, but where Oz and Gilbert were sitting, they were safe. Dripping wet, maybe, but safe. Oz still shivered and even sneezed every so often. The boy's head was in Gilbert's lap – the raven-haired man was sitting up, looking towards the fire, and Oz was laying on the floor, except for his head, which lay on Gil's thigh.
The older male's black coat lay, splayed over the boy; a makeshift oversized blanket. Gil himself shivered, but he didn't mind, so long as the little ray of sunshine was alright. Peaceful... the man thought, looking down at Oz's sleeping form. ...Poor kid. He's probably cold and hungry... and definitely tired... Gil flinched lightly, seemingly out of no where.
A-Ah, man! My leg's asleep!
