The rain arrived on a Thursday, soft and unannounced, draping the city in a veil of silver mist. Kendrick stood by the window, coffee in hand, watching raindrops race each other down the glass. The apartment was warm, the kind of warm that came not just from the heater but from shared silences, lingering glances, and mornings wrapped in laughter.
Behind him, Zephany emerged from the hallway in his oversized flannel shirt, hair tied in a loose braid, her expression still caught somewhere between sleep and serenity.
"Rain," she murmured, stepping beside him.
He turned slightly, passing her the second mug. "And we were going to go to the pier today."
She sipped slowly. "Change of plans?"
He watched her over the rim of his mug. "I can think of a few."
She smiled, faint and knowing. "Let's stay in. Paint. Read. Be slow."
He nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. "My favorite kind of day."
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