The night was unusually still for Miami. The usual hum of the city was muffled by the soft rumble of distant thunder, a storm threatening to break. You and Horatio had finished up a long, grueling day at the lab, and though it was late, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave just yet.

Horatio was silent as he stood beside you, leaning against his car, his gaze on the horizon. His brow was furrowed, the weight of the latest case still hanging over him. It was obvious. But he was here, with you, despite it all.

“You know,” you said quietly, breaking the silence, “it’s strange how calm it is right now.”

Horatio’s voice was soft as he replied, his eyes never leaving the skyline. “It won’t last long. A storm’s coming.”