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Soft, pittering raindrops slam into the roof of their makeshift shelter. She remembers that night. It seemed so far away now—like a vivid dream.
Soft wheezing littered the room. She was breathing heavily—thunder shuddering her body. Heated tears pool in her eyes.
“Ryuu?” Atsushi groggily asked, concern lacing his voice. He just woke from a deep slumber.
She stares at the ceiling—paint freckles barely visible by cloudy, hot tears. She just whimpered, unable to speak.
“Are you okay?” He asked, sheets softly ruffling as he adjusted in their shared bed. He knows now that was a dumb question.
Sobs litter the air—It was cold, damp and he couldn't breathe—she thought back to that night. Storms kept her up, only remembering being broken, losing joy and gaining anger and resentment.
“Come here,” Atsushi held her tightly—she didn't want him to let go.
Thunder rolls back in, making her shudder. Atsushi shushes her gently, caressing her back and sides tenderly.
“It's okay, dear. I'm here. You're safe, love.”
Comfort rushes in—he has her. Lightning strikes, but it's not gone. Instead, she sighs.
She was calm. She had him, and it made her better. He made her better—nothing could beat the calm. Her eternal storm was finally calm.