The quiet creak of the door as he enters, drenched from the rain. Graying hair finds itself shedding to his leather coat, it's no doubt that Harold is getting older.

Harold sighs as he takes off his leather shoes and tosses it to the side, taking off his coat as he reaches for the towel to dry himself.

Before he knew it, you were right there— Standing right in front of him with your usual stance.

"I'm sorry, I'll be careful next time and bring an umbrella." He says quickly, apologetic.