𝙴𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ★ 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ★

𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

The air had been thick all day, heavy with the kind of tension that warned of a storm's impending arrival. You could feel it in the way the clouds darkened gradually as the afternoon slipped into evening, casting an eerie gray over the house. It wasn't the first time a storm had brewed in the skies, but tonight felt different.

You stood by the window, watching as the first fat raindrops splattered against the glass, creating little rivers that slid down to the sill. Your stomach clenched involuntarily, and you quickly turned away from the growing tempest outside. The distant rumble of thunder made your heart skip, your pulse quickening in response to the memories of sleepless nights spent huddled under blankets, your childhood fear of storms never really fading with age.

The wind picked up, howling as it tore through the trees, bending branches and sending leaves swirling through the air. You pulled your sweater tighter around you, retreating from the window and curling up on the couch. The house, which had once felt cozy with Eric just in the other room, now seemed too big, too empty.

As if on cue, the sky lit up with a jagged flash of lightning, the crack of thunder following not a second later. You gasped, instinctively pulling your knees to your chest, trying to steady your breathing. But it was no use; your heart was racing now, the sound of the storm wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket.

A soft creak of the floorboard pulled your attention, and there he was—Eric, standing in the doorway to the living room, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Hey, babe... You okay?" His voice was soft, gentle, the way he always spoke when he sensed something was off.

You opened your mouth to answer, but your words were drowned out by another crash of thunder, louder this time, making you flinch.

Eric was at your side in an instant, his hands warm as he cupped your face, coaxing your gaze to meet his. "Hey, I'm here. It's okay."

You wanted to smile, to reassure him, but the storm was growing angrier outside, and all you could do was cling to him. "I hate storms," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know you do." He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as he sank down onto the couch beside you. His hands moved soothingly up and down your back, grounding you as you buried your face in the soft fabric of his t-shirt, breathing in his familiar scent. "But I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

The warmth of his embrace was comforting, but your body was still tense, your muscles tight with the fear that had settled deep in your bones. You shuddered when the wind howled louder, rattling the windows, and Eric's grip on you tightened protectively.

"I've got you," he whispered into your hair. "You're safe."

You nodded against him, squeezing your eyes shut. You knew you were being irrational; the storm couldn't hurt you. But fear wasn't something that could be reasoned with so easily. It twisted inside of you, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.

Eric shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with concern and love. He reached up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "What can I do? What do you need?"

"Just... stay with me," you whispered, your voice small.

"Always," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over both of you before pulling you back into his arms. This time, you melted into him a little easier, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your head calming your erratic heartbeat. His fingers gently played with your hair, his other hand tracing soothing circles on your arm.

The storm raged on outside, but inside the little cocoon of his warmth, you felt the sharp edges of your fear start to dull. With Eric, it was always like that—his presence, his calm energy, had a way of softening even the hardest moments. He made you feel safe in a way that no one else ever had.

"I used to be scared of storms, too," he murmured after a few minutes, his voice a low rumble that somehow blended with the sounds of the storm outside. "When I was a kid, I'd hide under my blankets, thinking that would protect me."

You smiled a little at the thought, picturing a young Eric, all wild curls and big eyes, huddled under the covers. "What changed?"

"My mom." His fingers paused in your hair for a moment, his voice growing soft with the memory. "She used to sit with me and tell me that storms were just the sky putting on a show. That the thunder was just applause after the lightning's dance."

You tilted your head to look up at him, catching the faint smile on his lips. "That's sweet."

"Yeah," he chuckled softly. "I still think about that whenever a storm rolls in. It makes them seem less scary, you know?"

You nodded, snuggling closer to him as another crack of thunder shook the house. With Eric holding you like this, it was easier to breathe, easier to believe that the storm wasn't as terrifying as it seemed. The fear still lingered at the edges, but it wasn't as suffocating with him beside you.

The rain pounded against the windows, but you focused on the steady rhythm of Eric's heartbeat beneath your ear, his hands still running through your hair and down your back in soothing motions. You felt yourself relax a little more with each passing minute, the tension in your muscles slowly ebbing away.

"Want me to tell you a story?" he asked after a while, his voice a soft murmur against the top of your head.

"Yeah," you breathed, closing your eyes as you let the sound of his voice carry you away from the storm outside.

And so, he did. He spoke quietly, weaving a tale about a distant land where the storms weren't something to fear, but something to celebrate. In his story, the people danced in the rain, their laughter echoing through the thunder, and the lightning painted the sky in brilliant colors. It was a story full of warmth, full of magic, and as he spoke, you could almost imagine that you were there, far away from the fear that had gripped you so tightly.

By the time the storm began to fade, you were drifting, your breathing even and your body finally at ease. The thunder was just a distant rumble now, the rain a soft patter on the roof. But Eric stayed, holding you close, his fingers still tracing gentle patterns on your skin.

"I love you," you whispered sleepily, your voice barely audible.

Eric's lips brushed against your temple, his voice soft as he whispered back, "I love you, too."

And with him beside you, the storm didn't seem so scary anymore.