Kiss the Rain
He'd never intended to shout, but his temper always seemed to take over when it came to issues like this. He hated how she just seemed to know what he was feeling, the way he couldn't seem to hide anything from her sight. She had no right to peer into him like that, to pretend as if she knew what his situation was. No history book could capture it.
"Stop acting as if you understand this -- you've no idea what I have left to face!"
He hadn't realized how harsh his voice was over the gentle drizzle until he saw her, barely perceptibly, wince -- the same way he knew he was prone to. He stepped closer, meaning to speak more softly, only to notice that the streaks down her cheeks weren't only from the rain.
On instinct, as he would have with his own sister, he reached gently for her.
"I'm sorry. You didn't... it isn't your fault."
He could tell she was trying to conceal her weakness. She did understand, that was exactly it -- exactly why she saw right though him.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled again, finding his arms wrapping tight around her, his face burying in her hair. "I know... I know you do understand."
She didn't speak, but he felt her hands at his face, a gentle reassuring stroke of his hair.
Maybe the rain could hide some of his tears, too.
