Heavy rainfall pelted the tin roof of the little trailer, washing away all the dust from the recent drought.  Maxine stood by the window, staring at the growing puddles.  She’d been dreading monsoon season and now it was here.  No amount of mental preparation eased her anxieties. 

Out here was like living in a different country entirely.  Rain had been so common back east.  It was no big deal.  She remembered that she used to enjoy it and find it relaxing, but that was long ago.  She’d heard the rain here was a different beast.  Didn’t happen often, yet when it did…  It didn’t stop.  Those puddles were making her uneasy.  She was terrified of flooding. 

Her fingers flexed against her bicep as the sky illuminated a bright white.  She closed her eyes and turned away from the window like that would stop the thunder from rattling the thin walls.  She didn’t like being alone in this.  She didn’t like being alone at all, honestly.  She also couldn’t handle being around others for long.  It was miserable.

After another rumble in the distance, the front door swung open.  Her hand darted to her chest as she whipped her head around.  Her thoughts were split between the storm being strong enough to blow open the doors or an intruder— either one was paralyzing.  Only when she caught a glimpse of Cash did her posture relax.  She hadn’t been expecting him home until later.  He stood in the open door, studying her for a moment.

“You good?”

His voice was gruff, as always, but she found comfort in it regardless.  Upon seeing her nod, he allowed himself to step inside, then carefully shut and locked the door behind himself.  With a better look at him, she could see he was soaked to the bone.  His clothes were drenched and dripping onto the welcome mat.  She stood in place as he kicked off his boots and peeled away the layers.

“How was work?”

“Got rained out.”

Damn…  As if the storm itself wasn’t bad enough.  Missing those hours on his next check was going to hurt.  A steadier gig would be ideal, but his prospects were slim, considering he was legally dead.  Between that and his criminal record, they were lucky he found something that paid decent at all.

Her eyes didn’t stray from him as he wandered further into the trailer and threw his damp shirt over the back of a chair.  As he wandered to the fridge in just his jeans, she couldn’t help but admire him.  He wore his faded scars way better than she did.  It still broke her heart that he had them too, but they didn’t make his muscular frame any less attractive.

“… I haven’t cooked or anything yet.”

Though that much was obvious, she still felt the need to announce it.  She’d usually have something hot ready for him to eat.  It seemed like the least she could do to contribute since she wasn’t good for much else these days.

“S’fine,” he said as he reached for a beer.  He cracked it open and took a much-deserved swig.  “If you’re not hungry, don’t worry about it.  Probably just going to shower and pass out.”

The sky took that moment to split.  The clap of thunder made her flinch yet again.  How goddamn jumpy she was drove her mad.

“… Is that safe in the storm?” she asked.

“Shower?” he said after another sip from his beer.  “Sure I’ve taken riskier ones.  I’ll live.”

With that, he wandered off into the cramped bathroom.  The faucet was soon heard running.  Since she didn’t have to worry about dinner and had nothing better to do, she figured she might as well make sure the bed was warmed up for him.  She crossed the trailer to the bedroom and crawled between the blankets.  Laying on the other side of the wall, the sound of the shower drowned out the rain.  Knowing he was also on the other side of that wall soothed her.  In that moment, the storm didn’t seem like as big of a deal.

Before she even realized she had been drifting off, Cash appeared in the bedroom.  She lifted her head to spot him holding the towel wrapped around his waist.  With his free hand, he opened a dresser drawer to hunt for something to wear to bed.  It was strange to see him like this.  Maxine didn’t think she’d ever get used to it.  Even after months together, seeing him just living his life and looking comfortable was surreal.  In her half-asleep state, she didn’t bother looking away when he stepped into his boxers.  She didn’t feel the same distress or disgust that she had grown to associate with men.  When he climbed into bed beside her, she didn’t flinch or make space.  She was drawn to him.  A tentative hand rested on his chest.  Her head rested on his bicep until his arm snaked around her and pulled her to his chest.  He pressed his lips to the top of her head, then buried his nose in her hair.  Her heart raced again, but not as a result of fear this time.  She didn’t think she’d be able of ever feeling butterflies after all she’d endured.