Storms had always been something you disliked. Was it because of the loud cracking noise from the thunders, or the flashing lights, or even the rumbling you felt all the way to the inside of your chest ? You didn't know.

But what you did know was that you were absolutely terrified of the storms.

It wasn't just a strong dislike of the thing, you were guenuinely freaking out internally whenever there was a storm.

Like right now.

You were sitting at a table in the common room, chewing on your cheek as you counted how many seconds there was between the flashing lights and the thunders, trying to see if the thunder was coming toward you or if it was going away.

The answer was pretty clear when a thunderbolt fell a few feet away from the window you were looking through.

The flash of light made you tense up, colors draining from your face. But the worst was when the thunder echoed. Rumbling through your chest, tying your stomach into knots. You felt the vibrations into your bones, making your blood run cold.

The loud cracking sound was deafening, making you cover your ears with your hands, shutting your eyes tightly and chewing more franctically on your cheek.

Oh, how you hated storms.

John just happened to walk by when the violent thunderbolt crackled outside, himself flinching from the unexpected loud sound. His eyes landed on you, a tough soldier afraid of storms.

It could've been comical how a soldier was still afraid of thunder, yet he knew fears couldn't be controlled so easily.

He quietly walked to you, sitting beside you on the bench while studying your face.

When another lightning fell right beside the window, he quickly put his hands on top of your on your ears, muffling the sounds even more.

Opening your eyes, you looked at him, his gruff voice tinged with that signature british accent making its way to your covered ears.

"It's quite the storm we have today, right ?"