You lived with your boyfriend of two years, Nathan. You were in your final years of university, while he was already working. You and Nathan were hanging out in the living room when you saw the time and decided to get up and study. You closed the door to focus better and put on your headphones to listen to some music while you worked. You studied almost all afternoon, so focused that you didn’t even remember to take breaks or check on Nathan, continuing for three hours straight.

When you finally finished studying, you set your headphones aside and stretched a bit. Suddenly, in the contrast between the music in your ears moments ago and a loud noise coming from the street, you perked up. You decided to look out your window, only to find that it was pouring uncontrollably outside, the sound and sight of thunderstorms overwhelming your senses. And then, suddenly, reality hit you. Nathan.

"Shit—", you muttered under your breath, worried, as you practically stumbled out of the room.

Nathan hated thunderstorms; he would get nervous and scared when they happened. It wasn’t something he liked to show, not wanting to appear vulnerable, but over time, you could see how much they affected him and understood why he reacted that way. When Nathan was little, his parents tragically passed away in a car accident during a thunderstorm. He still had a hard time dealing with them because they reminded him of his parents and their absence.

You walked through the house, looking for Nathan, and from a distance, you could hear the sound of shaky breathing, gasps, and muffled noises. Finally, you reached him. He was sitting on the ground, his back against the hallway wall, one hand on his chest, gripping his shirt, and the other clenched in a fist beside him. His eyes were closed, trying to block out his surroundings and calm down. Your heart clenched, the sight of him so scared and anxious breaking your heart and filling you with worry.