Thunder rumbled overhead, bruised clouds overshadowing the city as their heavy tears blotched out all color. Stung those that dared step in its path. Changmin was one of those who dared. But the stinging pain he felt on his face was nothing compared to the torture that raged in his heart. He blinked back the droplets that fell into his eyes, shaking the bangs the clung to his forehead. His footsteps were quick against slick, wet sidewalks that drowned his sneakers.

The saddened dark orbs searched over the vacant streets he walked along. They strained at the watery figures that trod before him, rare in appearance. Never once was one of them her and so he continued on.

It'd been hours since he'd seen her face, heard her voice. He had tried desperately to reach her, but her phone was turned off. Their battle of forked tongues was still resonating in his skull, echoing in his conscious. The spiteful, cruel things that he had said. How could he do that to her?
Changmin crossed the bridge and he gaze fell to the water below. A chill ran up his spine and he looked closer. Would she have? Maybe. He did not know. He reluctantly went on, hurrying his footsteps further, the rain seeping through his jacket and chilling him.

He found her sitting on a bench, carved of stone and hidden on a green path. She seemed apart of the marble-like surface—pale and cold and still. Hands tucked into her pockets. A back slumped and head hung over, hair dripping. She was trembling in her light, striped hoodie and old jeans. Changmin approached her and came to a halt, his breathing loud and shaky. She warily glanced up at him, eyes diverting when she saw it was his tall, lanky figure that stood before her.

“I'm sorry.” The words that left his lips were so much softer and fragile than those he'd lashed out with hours before. She was taken aback by them, looking up at him fully now. “I didn't mean what I said before. I'm sorry.”

“Y—you sounded like you m—meant it.” Her words stumbled outward, the chill taking hold of vocal chords. “Y—you said you didn't want m—me around anym—more.” Tears mingled with rain water. “And I understand that. I'm the one w—whose sorry.”

Changmin plopped down beside her, trying to catch her eye as he laid an arm across her shoulders. “I didn't mean what I said,” he repeated. When he failed to attract her gaze, his hand guided her chin so she had no choice. “I was a huge to say those things. I don't care what you've done in the past. I just...forgive me, please?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, chin trembled, and more tears assembled at her eyelashes. He held her close, head falling beneath his chin. Her body shook with sobs as they sat there, rain pouring around them. It bit into their exposed flesh.

“Let's go home,” he whispered, his voice mixing with the hissing rain.

Their apartment was nothing complex; it was old with stone walls and tall windows where paint chipped at the seams of the sills. The windows let in the filmy light as she sat upon a mattress that made their bed with a dry pair of flannel pants and one of his old t-shirts. A blanket had been placed across her shoulders by her lover.

Changmin presented her with a steaming mug of tea which she cradled in delicate hands. He laid down beside her, tucking a pillow under his head. Slowly, she joined him, propping herself up on one elbow, the other occupied with the mug. He adjusted the blanket before his hand trailed up her shoulder, to her neck, and finally her face, caressing a flushing cheek.

“Are you feeling better?”

She took a sip and nodded. A small smile graced upon a delectable pair of lips that Changmin yearned to connect his own with. “I am. Thank you for the tea.” She still could not completely meet his eyes.

He sighed. “You'll stay, right?”

“Only if you want me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Then, I will.”

“I love you.”
Her head snapped to look at him with widened orbs that let all surprise seep out. Never once had he told her that, even when she had announced it. Never had she thought he truly felt it and if he did, he showed it through action. But to hear it spoken on his tongue, from his gracious lips, from a throat that sung like angels...it was an earth-shattering realization.

He loved her.

Tears speckled at her eyes and seeing this, Changmin rose. “What's wrong?”

She wiped them away, shook her head. “Nothing,” she dismissed. “I just...I never thought...” Unable to get the words out fast enough, she connected her blue eyes with his. “I love you too.”

And Changmin fulfilled his wish, flesh caressing flesh. It had been so long, it was almost like the first time, kissing anew. They had let the void grow until they threatened to fall in and never return. They had saved themselves though. Or so, the rain had. They had to step out into the blistering cold rain for it to do its work of healing, to wash away the pain that had been caused by each other, the sadness, the regrets.

And as they shared the evening, it continued to whisper outside the window.