The rain has picked up now, a rough pitter-patter on the city streets, and Jonathan is cursing himself softly for not bringing an umbrella on his trip to the library. Soaked to the bone and drenched clothes sticking to his skin, he is at least thankful that the distance he has to travel home is a short one. Jonathan has been trained to keep his breathing steady no matter the intensity of his emotions or the peril of a situation. Something like this, just a minor annoyance on an otherwise uneventful day, is hardly an issue at all.
He stops breathing when he sees her.
It feels as if the rest of him follows suit in an instant, legs refusing to move any further, heart skipping a few more trembling beats, a flood of emotions overcoming every practical function in his body. Jonathan can scarcely believe his eyes, but he no longer has the strength to move, downpour continuing and fresh puddles dripping at his feet and time flowing on as ever, and all he can wonder is how nature has the gall not to abandon itself when she's here.
That wretched day on their honeymoon returns to him in that he can no longer speak, but Father which art in Heaven, if his eyes do not deceive him, he will not have enough natural time in his life to say how thankful he is for her.
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The rain has picked up now, a rough pitter-patter on the city streets, and Jonathan is cursing himself softly for not bringing an umbrella on his trip to the library. Soaked to the bone and drenched clothes sticking to his skin, he is at least thankful that the distance he has to travel home is a short one. Jonathan has been trained to keep his breathing steady no matter the intensity of his emotions or the peril of a situation. Something like this, just a minor annoyance on an otherwise uneventful day, is hardly an issue at all.
He stops breathing when he sees her.
It feels as if the rest of him follows suit in an instant, legs refusing to move any further, heart skipping a few more trembling beats, a flood of emotions overcoming every practical function in his body. Jonathan can scarcely believe his eyes, but he no longer has the strength to move, downpour continuing and fresh puddles dripping at his feet and time flowing on as ever, and all he can wonder is how nature has the gall not to abandon itself when she's here.
That wretched day on their honeymoon returns to him in that he can no longer speak, but Father which art in Heaven, if his eyes do not deceive him, he will not have enough natural time in his life to say how thankful he is for her.