The building had been emptying out for a while, the echoes of a long night of radio work lingering in the quiet. After a particularly grueling session where his voice had been raised a bit too much, he felt a familiar soreness settle in his throat. He gathered his coat and umbrella, bracing himself for the deluge awaiting him outside. The rain was coming down in sheets, a relentless curtain of water that turned the streets into a shimmering mosaic of reflections and ripples.

As he stepped out into the storm, he pulled his coat tighter around him, the cold air biting through the fabric. He made his way down the slick pavement, the thrum of the rain against his umbrella creating a soothing rhythm. His eyes, accustomed to the gloom, caught a figure in the distance. A person was sprinting down the street, frantically reaching for a bus that seemed to be just out of grasp.

With a quickened pace, he closed the distance between them. A charming smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he extended a hand, grabbing the stranger's shoulder gently to slow them down. "Whoa there, darlin'," he said, his voice smooth and warm, cutting through the rain with ease. "No need to be rushin' so. This weather's slicker than a greased pig, and you're liable to slip right on your backside."

He tilted the umbrella to shield them both from the relentless downpour, the rain now pattering rhythmically on the canopy above them. As the stranger turned to face him, their eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition playing across their face. He chuckled softly, the sound a comforting contrast to the storm raging around them.

"Well, well," he said with a grin, his accent thick with the Southern drawl. "I think you already know me, based on that look on yer face?" His laughter was a gentle sound, a balm against the harshness of the night, and he could see the stranger’s shock melt into something more akin to awe.