Phantom [h.s]

Twenty Eight

Clouds smother the sky that night, turning the color from deep blue to nearly jet black. The stars are invisible tonight, due to the thick layer of clouds above that surely hold a storm within them. As if to confirm this, a rumble of thunder bellows through the sky, cueing a flash of lightning. A raindrop hits my window, then another. More and more splat against the glass panes until the sky lets out a full on downpour, as if drowning its sorrows on the Earth so that the sun may shine tomorrow.

Rain has always soothed me. Storms especially. I was never scared of the thunder and lightning as a child. My parents always wondered why. To a child, storms are supposed to be scary. The deafening thunder and blinding lightning seems like an unexplainable act of sorcery or magic to a young kid. Where does it come from? Why does it happen? A child can't wrap their mind all the way around that. But somehow, I did. My mother would always ask if I'd like to sleep in my parents' room for the night when a storm would hit, but I would decline and wrap myself in blankets in my room, sleeping peacefully. Of course, my father would always attempt to educate me on the story behind thunder and lightning the morning after the rain had stopped and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds again.

This storm is no different for me. It's past ten o'clock, and I sit quietly in my room, watching rainwater slide down the cold glass of the window. Lightning flashes and illuminates the dark silhouette of a figure outside the window, and I almost lose my shit right then and there.

Laughing, Harry steps through the window, little droplets of rain on his skin.

"Oh my God," I breathe, pressing a hand to my chest, trying to soothe my racing heart. "Holy shit, you almost gave me a heart attack."

Harry continues to laugh, shaking water from his hair and smiling teasingly at me. "You should've seen your face. Priceless."

I glare at him for a moment before shaking my head and starting to laugh with him. "Alright, you got me good," I admit.

"Took your breath away?"

"Gave me asphyxia."

We laugh again.

"We should stop with the strangulation jokes, really," I say.

"You're right." He pauses.

I look at him expectantly.

"What?" He asks.

"You were supposed to make another joke right then. It was a perfect opportunity."

"What're you going to do about it? Strangle me?"

"Homicidally."

Harry closes his eyes and shakes his head, laughing. I laugh with him at our morbidly funny humor.

"Man, it's really raining out there," he says once we finish laughing, looking towards the window.

"I hadn't noticed."

"You're just brimming with wit tonight, aren't you?"

"Hell yeah."

Harry smiles at me, shaking his head.

"Look, I know you can't feel the cold rain or anything, but do you want to borrow, like, a t-shirt or something? You look soggy."

He raises an eyebrow. "Soggy?"

"Yeah. Soggy." I push myself out of bed and walk over to him. "Your sweater's all damp and...soggy."

He looks down at me, smitten. "Sure, Jane. If it'll make you happy."