‘I love the rain,’ he said, closing his eyes and tipping his head up to the sky.
The rain grew harder, flooding his feet. He opened his eyes to a woman surfacing from an inch-deep puddle as if from the depths of the ocean.
Her hair was lank and thick with grit. Her skin was mud-slicked, and her eyes were dark holes in which he could see stormcloud skies. She hung her head, suddenly shy.
‘Really.’ He held out his hands, and she took them.