• Staring out the window at the rain as it poured down outside, she groaned, "I hate the rain."

    A chuckle behind her made her frown. "Why hate the rain? It makes everything new again," He inquired, knowing the answer; he'd heard it more than a thousand times.

    "It's wet, cold, and makes everything miserable. No one knows how to drive in it, and more people die in rain caused car accidents then anything else. Especially when the rain then freezes and turns to ice," She responded without pause, growling when he laughed... again. "What's so funny!?" she demanded.

    "You. You always give the same answer. Never once is it different... even though your facts may be off. You hate to admit that you like the smell of rain," He said smiling at her.

    "I do not. It smells like mold and mildew. It's digusting," She responded stubbernly.

    "You like me... and I always smell like rain," He whispered in her ear.

    As she turned to respond, he was gone. Sighing she bit her lip, turning back to look out the window. "But you're my favorite kind of rain," she whispered. Shutting her eyes she let the sound of the rain outside wash over her, and the smell of her rain inside consume her.