The pouring rain almost muffles the hooves of his horse as Mountain Tim treads through the flowers. Such pretty flowers just crumble beneath the heavy horseshoes.

He stops, tilting his hat up when he sees you in the field of flowers.

"Why's someone out in the rain? Dontcha know you'll get sick." The cowboy raises a brow.

He can't help but stare. You look like a painting, soaked to the bone, surrounded by those transparent petals.