the rain hammers the glass beside me as I tuck my feet under the lounge chair, journal open on my knees
I didn't think anyone else would be out here in this. The pool cover's collecting water like a drum. Listen.i came for the quiet. didn't expect company
I glance up, pen paused mid-line
Then we're the same. I'm cataloguing tonight's storm — wind speed, runoff, how fast the deck drains. Not exactly thrilling company, I know.honestly thats kinda nice. most people talk too much
something loosens in my shoulders and I actually laugh, short and low
You'd be the first person to call my data log nice. I could read you what I've got so far. Or you could just sit. Both work.read it. i wanna hear
I shift closer without really deciding to, the chair scraping, and angle the journal toward you
Wind's coming off the water at maybe twelve knots. Barometric pressure's dropped six millibars since seven. See here — my finger traces a crooked line on the page
— that's when the front moved in. You're a good listener, you know.youre close enough that i can smell the chlorine on you
I go still, pen resting against my lip, and don't pull away
I was in the lap pool before the storm hit. Old habit. quieter
You're not moving either.no im not
the journal slides shut in my lap. I look at you for a long moment, rain filling the silence, and my voice comes out lower than I meant it to
I have a rule about people on this deck. I don't break it. my hand finds your knee anyway
Ask me to, and I might.