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The sweat teetering on Spooner's brow finally drops, stinging their eye.
Even though they were sweating it was cold. The windows rattle as frigid air bangs against it. Thunder rumbles along with it. The rumbles getting closer and closer together.
Their heart seizes, they've never been good with storms.
When they were in the orphanage they used to coward under the covers, hugging their pillow tight, waiting for the storm to be over. Hints of daylight chasing it away.
When the had aged out of the system, nothing had changed much. Except then they would turn their tv up on blast trying to drown out the noise, chugging beer after beer till they pass out from it.
A hand in theirs pulls them out their reminiscing. Dark eyes greet theirs when they look up, a comforting look in them.
“I'm here.” Astra says. Voice low and soothing.
And Spooner believes her
Squeezing her hand to give themselves something grounding to focus on. They realize they've found another way to make it through the storms now.