How about Cole/Maryden 'raining'.
They were three days east of Skyhold when it started. It hit the roof of the inn all once, startling Maryden from a deep sleep.
Cole was at the window, watching how the rain made the leaves of the big oak tree rattle, tracing the paths the water took on the glass. She went and leaned her cheek on his soft, wispy hair.
“The cook liked the songs you sang last night,” he murmured, still looking out into the storm. “They remind her of a girl she knew when she was young.”
She smiled. “Then I think we should stay.”















