on toast ii

'You're wet. Soaking in fact.' He sipped the tea softly, with a whispered slurp. Brewed strong with one sugar and a dash of milk. It warmed him from the inside, reminding him how cold he'd been.

'Yeah. Got caught in the rain. It was nice.'

'I watched you. From the window. You sat in it.'

His bit into his toast with a satisfying crunch. He grinned as he chewed.

'Just felt like it.'

He wiped a crumb from his mouth with his thumb. They heard it, the percussion against the windows, the roof. There were bursts that shook the building, or so it seemed. The noise of the rain drowned out the howl of the wind. Almost.

She tugged her bathrobe, closing it tighter, the roar of the torrent carrying a chill.

'Hot shower?'

He said it with a mouthful of toast, his face pale with the cold wet. The corners of her mouth turned up a touch.

'That sounds perfect.'