A Furry Story

Chapter 12 - The Wonders Of Rain

 I felt strangely comfortable when I woke up.

I didn’t know if it was because of the eerie warmth, or maybe because I was wearing something really comfy, but as I looked outside, I noticed that it was still dark. I checked my phone for the time and it was a few minutes to 1 am.

They say that when you wake up in the middle of the night, your brain wakes you up because it senses that there is something wrong going on; or because there is suspicious activity in your surroundings.

So what was the reason?               

Bam!

As if answering my question, lightning rolled off from the skies and was followed by the loud thunder. I sensed that rain started pouring outside and I felt myself smile. I don’t know if this would sound creepy, but I always had this fascination with rain.

Maybe it’s because of the chilly temperature, or maybe it was because of the smell, but I really did love everything about it. The mood whenever it rains is romantic, lush, and simply sweet. Everything about it screams gentleness and solitude.

Except if it rained too hard of course. Especially if it came to the point where flash floods are occurring and people are starting to drown. I don’t think I’m going to enjoy the solitude.

I ignored my dry throat and forced myself to open my eyes. Why do I feel so… small? That’s right. At that point, I was facing the ceiling. Why was I facing the ceiling?

With me and my blurry eyes, it took me about five seconds to figure out what was going on.

I was lying on the ground with my butt hurting. Ouch.

I sat up slowly, as to avoid any more pains in the head. When I was already up and looked left, the first thing I noticed was Damien.

He managed to occupy the sofa to himself, and he probably pushed me off unintentionally. I looked at the windows and saw tiny drops of water forming. I was just preoccupied in observing the soft tapping of rain outside, when I hear soft sobbing.

Sobbing…?

I snapped my head to check up on Damien. He was laid on his back, and I was surprised to see his face in a state of innocent panic. His forehead kept on smoothing and unsmoothing, which caused small wrinkles.

 It didn’t seem like he was awake, but I can sense that he was terrified.

Wait, wait, wait – is he afraid of the thunder? I mean, that’s the only logical explanation to this.

I was surprised to see him like this because he was never the type of person to easily cry or get scared in front of people. I mean, that’s how I know him, of course.

I looked at him and he was sweating like a pig.

“D-Damien?” I said in a low whisper. “Are you okay?”

I looked at him dumbly.

Why am I expecting an answer? Of course he’s not going to hear, he’s asleep. Nice work, genius.

I examined him again, carefully, and I noticed that he really did look as sick as a puppy. (I should really stop with all these animal-related similes) I had the urge to touch his forehead, just to check if he was okay.

Not able to control myself, I placed a light hand on the base of his neck. He was sweaty all over so I took out my ‘always ready’ handkerchief and started swabbing it to his sweaty neck. The funny thing about this is that his sweat doesn’t smell.