You drive in the city, beyond the cloud line and up through the fog, winding roads until you reach the top of the hill. A viewpoint where tourists go to look down on the valley of buildings and rivers. The fog covers everything but it doesn’t matter; the real view is her. It’s pouring and you’re already soaking wet but you step gingerly out of the car, careful to avoid the puddles. “We’re facing the wrong way” she says, but you only want to look at her. The rain comes down in cool calm drops and you’re lost in a world surrounded by the mist, surrounded by her arms. When you kiss it is light amidst the rain that relentlessly falls. Despite the cold you are warm and safe, surrounded by things that make you happy.