When it's raining outside (Jake x MC)

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You leaned against the window, closed your eyes, and listened to the cold rain pattering on the glass surface. Already familiar November evening, which you are ready to spend in the company of your cat. Just like the previous seven years. After all, has anything changed this year?

In fact, a lot has changed. You had a rough summer, part of which you played detective, and the rest you spent in the hospital, healing your wounds. The investigation into Hannah's abduction left permanent scars on your body and soul. And the most painful ones were inflicted not by a man without the face, but by someone who became very close. You tried to just forget about everything, get lost in the little book world again... it didn't work.

When autumn weekends still kept the summer days warm, you wandered the streets of your tiny town. But November came, and the rain began to fall again, and you stayed at home, drawing indistinct patterns on the fogged window. You usually preferred sketchbook, but this time you didn't go for it.

Autumn was crying and you wanted to echo it. And when no one was around, you probably could afford to be so weak, but after the summer adventures, there were no tears left.

Something was wrong. The silence of the house was broken not only by the interruption of drops. You tried to make out what was bothering you and finally realized: in the hallway, a cat was mewing creakily. Knowing that this was not his usual behavior, went into the hall, hiding the scars under her wide sleeves.

"What happened?" you looked into the cat's malachite eyes. Pet went to the door and clawed at it. "You can't want to go out in the rain... Interesting."

You opened the door and recoiled. A dark figure, vaguely familiar, stood in the doorway. The man was sitting on the steps with his back to you. His sweatshirt was soaked to the skin, and his black hair was heavy with water. And even if you're sorry to see him like this, even if you didn't understand what he left here after he left you, saying his usual "it's the right thing to do", the resentment bubbling inside spoke faster.

"Jake, what are you doing here? Go away. That's what you do best."

He flinched, first turning his head, then rising.

"I am glad to finally see you."

You noticed that his voice was hoarse, barely audible. You feel sorry for him, you want to call him in so that you don't get wetter – it's good to watch the rain from the inside, but...

"But I'm not," you need to say it. Need. And that desires contradict this "necessity" — nonsense.

You turned, fists clenched, as if you'd forgotten to close the door. The cat was squinting at you. He could still trust Jake. And you usually believed your pet.

"Why are you lying to me?"

Jake put a hand on your shoulder and you shivered at the cold, wet touch. And didn't find any words that a well-bred girl could use to describe the reasons for behavior. Just turned around, frowning at the young man still wet in the rain, feeling heart tighten at the sight.

The first time you tried to talk to him, it was raining, too. Not so strong and warm in summer, but the rain. You listened to the raindrops and typed a message. Now...

"I understand what it might have looked like, but it was really dangerous for you to be around me then," he said, and coughed.

You couldn't stand it.

"Damn you, come in. I'll give you a blanket and tea... But Jake. You'll have to explain a lot to me."

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