nom de plume 🌹 tysh [✔]

[cherish]

cher·ish
ˈCHeriSH
verb
1. protect and care for (someone) lovingly.
2. hold (something) dear.

•••

the rain had stopped, abruptly, only for an hour, or so. it'd been going off and on all day.

joshua smiled, upon seeing his momma, adjusting his blonde hair. his soft demeanor was making the woman calm. usually when it poured hard, her boy would be frightened.

their dog was laying in the boy's lap, sleeping with a beautifully loud snore, easing the people in the home.

(i typed beautifully without the b and it auto corrected to "wait idiot")

suddenly, the door opens, and a brunette with soaking wet curls walks through.

he had no umbrella, but it didn't seem to bother him.

(regina reference,, okay ill stop)

"ty!"
"hey honey," tyler leans down to kiss the boy on the cheek, careful not to wake junior.

momma dun grins, and leaves the boys to themselves.

the rain starts to morph into anything but a timid drizzle, and josh runs outside.

the other watches, confused, "what are you doing?"

"i w-wanted to be like a movie," the feminine boy replies, in a hushed tone.

"what do you mean?" he dashes after the boy; slowly closing into the middle of the road.

"in those m-movies- wha-whatcha call 'em? r-rom c-coms? that's w-what they c-call them?" the younger says, shivering.

"'m so cold, but this feels s-so p-pure, a-all man has been washed of these h-heavenly cloud tears."

"joshie c'm'ere," he wraps his arms around his freezing cold love, hugging him tight.

"hun, you're so silly, you're gonna catch pneumonia."

"i-i wanted to be elegant."

"you're always elegant.

•••

the cloud tears began to go off shortly, and the grass was becoming dry, so the young boy, decided to check on his flowers.

tyler went there first, to see if the pourage had stopped in the area. he didn't want to risk his love getting pneumonia. he hadn't come back yet, but the blonde was getting impatient.

the sight he met was not one he'd ever want to see again.

some adolescent (much more like inconsiderate, selfish dipshits) teens not only kicked and knocked over ever bush, every flower, and every cotton-velvet petal; they had several lit cigarettes and lighters beginning to light every leaf of every single tree.

the brunette had the main culprit pinned down, but all the innocence was already obliterated from the sunshine soaked boy.

the clouds formed together to cry once more, trickling the pale boy's platinum hair, and clothing.

it was no match for the fire.