Shelter
"We can still make it if we run!"
Lex tried to keep pace, but it was useless. "It's all right, Clark – go on without me …"
"I'm not leaving you." His hand was warm and strong on Lex's elbow. "Quick, we'll be safe under here …"
They dove beneath the hay wagon just as the skies opened up. The waist-high grass bent nearly flat against the force of the wind.
In the confined space, Lex was acutely aware of Clark's closeness and the scent of rain on his skin.
As the storm unfolded around them, its persistent rhythm urged them closer still.