In The Rain, There is Peace

Watching

The window was chilly against my warm forhead, soon, the thin but string tented glass started to fog from the conflicting tempratures making me sigh softly to myself and lift my head watching as the warm patch of fog recedes.
 
As i shifted my position in my seat I never took my eyes off the window. Scanning through the dark shadows of the trees, another round of low thunder rumbles through the area making me crack a very faint fragile smile, my lips, chapped from anxiously licking and chewing on them, crack and bleed from the small gesture, though i can't find it in me to care.
 
Swiping the blood off my lip wetting my dehydrated tongue with the irony liquid making me his lowly in the stinging burn.

"we're almost home"

I say nothing, too caught up in my own thoughts flooding my mind till a cold corse hand wraps its way around my thinning arm. My eyes peel from their spot on the horizon to the interior of the car, this car... This car hold memories.. Good, and bad..
 
My mind starts to wander again until I feel another soft squeeze, i trail my eyes from the dash to the cold caramel hand resting on my upper arm.
 
Those hands.. Those corse callused hands themselfs hold a slew of memories with every chewed nail, warn line and lightened scar against his sun kissed skin. My eyes lift to his scared arm inwardly frowning knowing i caused a few of those myself...
My eyes continue their journey up his arm to his face, his features said it all. Every emotion, with or without his meaning to show so much. I scan his face slowly, reading what he won't say. What they all wont say. His onyx eyes swirled with an affectionate worry i had come to know all too well.
  
His lips, though smiling, were set in just a way that i could see the slow downturn in it, as if his face cant lie to me much longer. His hair was the most tell tale, though he tries to style it in his usual low hanging manner, it was messy and hung in his face more then it should with his usual attention to detail..

  After i admire his appearance, as i do often, i give him a slow nod and turn back to the window letting my eyes wander. As I watch the thinning tree line again I jump slightly cracking another lip splitting smile as anotger soft flash of lightning grases my sight.

In this time, a storm is only seen as a storm. A force of nature.

But i can only see its beauty. Though Powerful and violent, it speaks to me, in ways i cant explain. To you, or to myself now..