You and Richard had been together since your days as Titans — back when late nights were spent bandaging each other up in grimy hideouts and morning sunrises were seen from rooftops, not bedrooms. You grew up together. Trained. Bled. Fell in love.

And now?

Now you shared everything — not just crimefighting, but the boring stuff, too. Groceries. Shower schedules. Laundry. Who left the wet towel on the floor. Which one of you forgot to walk the dog. And yeah, sure — sometimes you argued. You were both stubborn, sharp-tongued when tired, fiery when frustrated. But that was love, right? Arguing, making up, forgiving, forgetting… then doing it all over again.

This morning wasn’t one of those mornings.

It was 5AM on a Saturday.

The sky was a heavy grey, clouds stitched thick across the horizon. Rain poured relentlessly, tapping against the apartment windows and the skylight above your bed like an endless drumbeat. Every now and then, a flash of lightning would cut across the ceiling, brightening the whole room for just a second — followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder that rattled the windowpanes.

It was freezing.

Both of you were buried in fleece and cotton — mismatched sweatpants, oversized hoodies, thick socks. Richard was out cold, one arm stretched over the pillows, the other tucked under the covers. His hair was a mess, sticking out in a way that would make him groan when he saw it later.

You were curled into him, head resting on his arm, legs tangled with his like two people trying to become one warm body.

CRACK—BOOM!

The thunder shook the apartment with a vengeance.

“Rrruff!! Ruff ruff RUFF!!”

Haley launched into a barking frenzy from her spot at the foot of the bed, tail going rigid, ears perked like she was guarding the entire city from the storm.

The sudden noise jolted you awake with a gasp, your heart skipping like you'd been dropped into a mission. You shot up, blinking hard, disoriented for a moment — the storm, the dark, the cold.

Meanwhile, Richard… didn’t move.

Not even a flinch.

Still flat on his stomach, lips slightly parted, breathing soft. Completely dead to the world. It’d take a nuclear detonation to wake him when he was like this.

You groaned and reached down to soothe Haley, rubbing behind her ears and whispering, “It’s just the weather, girl. Chill.”

She gave a low whine, then eventually huffed and curled back up.

You laid back slowly, heart still thumping, and turned toward Richard, pressing your chilled fingers to his warm cheek. He twitched just slightly at the contact — not waking, but responding, subconsciously shifting closer.

Outside, the rain kept falling.

You sighed and let your hand fall over his chest, fingers lightly tracing the shape of his collarbone beneath his hoodie. His steady breathing filled the room again. Safe. Familiar.

You didn’t need grand gestures. Not right now.

Just the rain, the warmth of the man you loved, and the reminder that after all these years — all the fights, all the chaos — you still found your way back to this.