Carrie and Keith 20

The weather had been threatening all day. Dark clouds scudding across the sky and the occasional clap of thunder as he drove home from work promised to deliver buckets of rain. He was about a mile from home when it started to pour.

By the time he had picked up his mail and managed to get under the protection of the porch, he was soaked through. He walked in and dropped his clothes in the doorway before limping to the bedroom for something dry to wear. He had just gotten his jeans on when he heard a knock at the door. He grabbed his shirt, walked into the hallway and arrived in the living room in time to see the door open.

"Carrie?"

She stood, water dripping from her curls and her clothing stuck to her like a second skin, looking at him.

"Jesus Christ, did you walk here?"

She cleared her throat. "Can I just stay until the storm passes?"

"Sure. But couldn't you have driven over?" He pulled his shirt on.

"I went for a walk. I thought I could beat the weather home." She shivered.

"Let me get you some dry clothes."

"No. I'm fine."

"Just come on," Keith said, frustrated. He turned and walked down the hall. He heard her follow him.

He grabbed some socks, sweatpants and a sweatshirt and laid them on the unmade bed. He stood up and looked at her.

She was leaning against the door jamb, eyes lowered. Besides being dripping wet, she was pale, almost transluscent. There were heavy, dark circles under her eyes and her face was drawn as if she hadn't been eating. All he wanted to do was pull her to him and hold her. She looked up at him.

He looked away and cleared his throat. "Here, you can change in here. Bring me your wet clothes and I'll throw them in the dryer for you."

She stepped into the room. He walked out past her. She began undressing before he even closed the door. He saw her pull her shirt over her head. His breath caught in his throat and he quickly turned his eyes away.

Moments later, she came out, wet clothes in hand. Without a word, he took them from her and limped down to the laundry room, picking his own wet clothes up on the way, and put them in the dryer together.

When he returned, he found her in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Keith could not help but smile when he saw her. She looked like a child playing dress-up wearing his clothes. She didn't smile back.

Keith went to her and held out his hand. "Come with me."

She reached up and took his hand and he helped her up from the couch. He walked her to the bedroom. Once in the doorway, she pulled her hand away.

"I just want you to warm up. I'm not going to try anything. Cross my heart." he said, making the motion.