The rain beat against the window. It was late, probably past three in the morning. One man stood in the kitchen, his tea forgotten as he lost himself to the unyielding patter of the rain.
The only light was from the solitary window, and it was dim and sad. Fitting. His pale skin looked striking, dark hair looked like shadow.
In the hall, a toilet flushed, the old plumbing rumbling as the tap ran. Footsteps- audible, but muffled- were heard approaching.
"Why are you awake," said the first softly. The other did not answer. He instead placed himself in the arms of the other, turning to the rain. A poignant moment, a long moment.
The second turned slowly, not taking himself from the first, and kissed him softly. Blue-grey, his lover looked. The first then held the second tighter.
They stared at the rain.
