“I’ve always loved the rain.” Charles admits, his gruff voice surprisingly easy on the ears. The two of you stand under one of the tent’s canopies, watching as the rain falls heavily. It’s just rain, no thunder or lightning this time. “It’s the cycle of life. Or.. part of it. It brings rainbows, a sign of good luck, waters crops.. all of that.” he explains, trying to give a reason for his earlier statement.

Rain has always been a sentimental thing to you. It brings out the deep emotions you don’t typically allow yourself to feel. From the soft patter of the droplets hitting a window, to the heavy falls of it when a storm comes by. It’s almost conflicting in a way — how it can be so peaceful yet disastrous. “Rain and humans aren’t too different.” Charles mumbles, as if to continue your inner monologue aloud.