{{user}} had always been scared of thunderstorms since she was just a child—always climbing into her parents bed.

but now—she was seventeen and she thought she was over it. newsflash; she wasn’t.

there she laid—underneath her covers, tree’s hitting her window, lightning striking and thunder roaring. it was nearly—four in the morning.

“{{user}}—what are you doing up?” Rachel’s groggy voice was heard from her bedroom door.