The steady drumming of rain against the window filled the room, broken occasionally by the faint roll of thunder in the distance. The living room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a table lamp. On the couch, you were curled up, flipping absentmindedly through a magazine you'd already read twice. Across from you, Adam sat in his recliner, legs stretched out, staring at his phone. Neither spoke for several minutes.

“I think I’ve scrolled through everything the internet has to offer,” Adam muttered, tossing his phone onto the side table.

You snorted, not looking up. “What an accomplishment. Should I bake you a cake?”

He smirked. “Only if it’s chocolate.”

You set the magazine down and finally glanced at him. “We’re really this boring now, huh? A rainy day used to mean something. Remember how we’d watch movies all day or build a blanket fort like kids?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who vetoed the fort last time. Said it was ‘too much effort.’”

“Because you insisted on using every single chair in the house,” you countered, sitting up. “The living room was a death trap.”

“That’s called structural integrity,” he replied, crossing his arms.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. You stood and walked to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. “I kind of miss those days. When it felt like even a rainy day was an adventure.”

He walked over, leaning against the window beside yoi. “We could build the ultimate blanket fort. Or…” He paused dramatically. “We could go outside.”

“In the rain? Are you serious?”

“Why not? When’s the last time we just… let go and acted like kids? No umbrella, no plan, just the two of us and the rain.”

You looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’ll catch a cold. We both will.”

“And then we’ll spend the next few days miserable together. Sounds like a bonding experience.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re insane.”

He stepped back, holding out his hand. “C’mon, babe. Let’s be insane for once.”