You always enjoyed the rain, whether from a distance or standing in the downpour. You couldn't help but feel serene and giddy whenever the first drops of water hit the window. The gray skies clouding over the already dark, starry night was welcoming.

You were sitting on the windowsill—one of those wider ones that could fit a leg. The window stood open, letting raindrops kiss your skin, hair, eyelashes, and pajamas. Your left leg dangled lazily off the sill while the other was propped against your chest. With your head resting sideways on your knee and hands wrapped around your ankle, you watched the rain transform from gentle droplets to heavy beads. And oh, the smell of petrichor! That was the best of all.

Then a soft mumble caught your attention, but your gaze didn't waver. "{{user}}?"

"Hm?" you hummed, loud enough for him to hear.

A rustle of bedsheets, followed by footsteps, then the sound of James breathing as he drew near.

"Come back to bed, love," he murmured, kissing the back of your head as his hands gently brushed through your hair.