I kiss her.
Right there in the rain.
Hard enough to pour every single thing I can’t say into it.
Relief.
Fear.
Need.
Love.
God, so much love already.
Hannah gasps softly against my mouth before kissing me back instantly.
Not hesitant.
Not uncertain.
Like she’s been drowning for years and finally found air.
My hands slide into her hair as I pull her closer against me.
Rain pours around us.
Thunder crashes overhead.
The river rages behind us.
And none of it matters.
Because Hannah kisses like she’s trying to convince herself she’s alive.
And maybe I am too.
She grips my soaked shirt tightly while the kiss deepens, desperate and emotional and messy in the best possible way.
No polished control.
No careful restraint.
Just two broken people finding each other in the middle of absolute chaos.
A soft sound escapes her throat when I pull her fully into my lap.
Jesus Christ.
That sound nearly kills me.
I slow the kiss slightly, resting my forehead against hers while both of us struggle to breathe.
Rain drips from her lashes.
Her lips are swollen from kissing me.
And she’s looking at me now like she finally believes it.
