The sky broke, and a downpour began before Micah could press further or hear Clyde's response. The sudden rainfall soaked both of them in seconds. The metallic tang of blood that had smeared across Clyde's forehead thinned as the rain ran down his face, staining his shirt red.
Micah gasped at the sight. His already-damp wig grew heavy under the downpour, so drenched that strands stuck to his skin. His make-up didn't last either; every bruise and cut beneath came to life.
He lifted a trembling hand, reaching toward Clyde's face, his fingertips grazing the line of the wound. He barely managed to touch it when he noticed a shadow fall over him.
His pupils dilated as Clyde's eyes shut closed. The tall man swayed, his body limp, falling over Micah.
Micah caught him, his back hitting the wall from the weight, grunting under the impact. "Clyde?" his voice trembled.
