❧𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓸𝓿☙
✧*。𝑺𝒊𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒓 。*✧
The soft glow of the television flickered across the room, casting gentle shadows as Clove leaned into Cato's arms, her head resting on his shoulder. The day had slipped quietly into evening, and the world outside was a blur of grays, almost as if it were falling asleep. But Clove's focus was drawn to something else—a soft tapping at the window, faint at first, growing steady and rhythmic.
Cato noticed the shift in her attention and followed her gaze to the window, where raindrops trailed down in thin, silvery rivers. She was mesmerized, her eyes brightening, as she slowly sat up.
"Cato," she whispered, her voice holding a spark of excitement. "It's raining."
He chuckled, eyebrows lifting as he studied her. "And that's worth getting up for?"
"Yes!" She grinned, grabbing his arm, her fingers curling around his wrist as she tugged him up from the couch. "Come on, let's go outside."
"Outside?" His tone was somewhere between amused and baffled as he let himself be pulled to the door, though he stopped at the threshold. "Clover, it's raining. We'll get drenched."
"That's the point!" she said, laughing as she slipped barefoot onto the cool, damp grass. A soft, refreshing drizzle fell, touching her skin with a cool, electric thrill. She lifted her face to the sky, feeling the rain gather and drip from her lashes, and for a moment, the world felt wide and endless.
Cato, however, remained firmly under the eaves, watching her with crossed arms and a faint smile. "You really want me to come out there?"
"Yes!" she called, stretching her hands out to him as if to lure him into the downpour. "When was the last time we just played in the rain?"
He shook his head, laughing. "Can't say I've ever felt the need to play in the rain, Clove."
"Are you serious?" She looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, twirling slowly under the gray sky, her hair quickly dampening and clinging to her face. "You're telling me you've never just wanted to stand in it, feel it wash over you?"
"Not really." He shrugged, though his smile deepened, amusement glinting in his eyes. "The rain is nice, I'll give you that. But I don't like getting wet."
Clove stopped her twirling, letting her gaze settle on him, studying his face with a smirk. "You're afraid of getting wet?"
"It's not fear," he corrected, a touch defensively, though the teasing in her eyes made it impossible to take offense. "It's just common sense."
"Common sense?" She snorted, rolling her eyes as she took a few steps back into the rain, challenging him. "Where's the fun in common sense?"
She turned away, letting her arms fall open as the rain gathered on her skin, chilling her but filling her with a wild, carefree joy. There was something about the rain that felt beautiful to her—something timeless and freeing, like she was stepping into a world that had no beginning or end.
Cato's gaze softened as he watched her, a warmth kindling in his chest. She looked almost ethereal in the muted gray light, her hair wet and tangled, her eyes bright, her laughter mixing with the rain. There was an innocence, a lightness to her in that moment that he knew he'd never tire of seeing.
He crossed his arms, his smile lingering as he watched her. "I'll never understand what you see in this," he called, though his voice was gentle, fond.
She turned to him with a smile, brushing the water from her eyes as she met his gaze. "You don't have to understand it, Cato. Just... let me have this." Her voice softened, and for a moment, she seemed almost fragile, like a figure sketched out of rain and dreams.
