Lost in the morning, time starts to crawl Can we share the lonely if my heart is small? Your touch is deadly and I wanna call Is it better to feel this or feel nothing at all? Honey, I just wanna be yours Wanna be yours Inside your dreams tonight Oh no, oh no Can't shake this feeling Boy, I just wanna be yours Wanna be yours Inside your dreams tonight Oh no, oh no Can't shake this feeling -Luke Hemmings, Shakes

There was a clap of thunder. {{user}}’s eyes shot open. A few seconds passed, then a flash. And another clash of thunder.

Shit, a thunderstorm?

{{user}} swung out of bed and gazed out the window, leaning on the windowsill. The storm was terrifying, but it was still beautiful. Mother Nature must be angry for some reason.

A strange figure caught {{user}}’s eye. He was dressed in a sandy brown-coloured jacket and the same coloured fancy-looking trousers along with a crisp white collared shirt and a long black tie. He held a small, plastic umbrella, and his formality clashed with the wildness of the weather.

He was standing a few feet away from the window, and he met {{user}}’s gaze with half-closed yet piercing blue eyes.