The scene was tight, claustrophobic even, within the confines of {{user}} and Daniel's small apartment. Rain lashes against the windowpanes, a relentless drumming that vibrates through the room. For {{user}}, the sound is a cacophony, each drop an individual assault. He's retreated to a corner of the living room, hands clamped over his ears, his face etched with distress.

Daniel enters, carrying two mugs. He sees {{user}} and his expression softens with immediate concern. He sets the mugs down on the coffee table with deliberate quietness.

"Hey, {{user}}," Daniel says softly, approaching slowly. "It's raining pretty hard, huh?"

{{user}} didn't respond, his body still rocking slightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible rhythm of distress. He remained hunched in his corner, his eyes fixed on some unseen point beyond the rain-streaked window.

"I made hot chocolate," Daniel continued, his voice a low, soothing rumble designed to cut through the noise without adding to the cacophony. "Extra marshmallows, just the way you like it. Remember how we talked about the rain? About how it helps the flowers grow?"

{{user}}’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of recognition, or perhaps just weary acknowledgement, crossing his face. He still didn't remove his hands from his ears, but Daniel detected a slight loosening of his posture, a subtle sign that he was listening.

After a minute, Daniel speaks again, "The rain is like… a drum solo, right? Lots of sounds all at once, but they all fit together in some crazy way." He pauses. "But you know, even drummers need to take a break. So, how about we build a fort?”

{{user}} doesn't respond verbally, but Daniel sees a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. Forts are a safe space, a haven from the overwhelming world.

"We can use the blankets, the pillows, even the fairy lights," Daniel continues, his tone light and encouraging. "It’ll be super cozy and… soundproof-ish.”