Mission in the Rain

The soft hum of thunder rumbled in the distance as rain lashed against the windows of Lena’s room.

Outside, the world looked like it was trying to wash itself from the sins of its numerous occupants, but failed regardless.

Inside, warmth flickered from a lone bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the cluttered floor and walls lined with pinned-up notes, photos, and fraying curtains.

Lena stood by the window, chewing on the edge of her thumb, anxiety dancing in her eyes.

Every few seconds, she would glance over her shoulder at the figure sprawled with infuriating calm on her cushioned desk chair.

Ethan.

Wearing a dark hoodie that concealed most of his face and damp jeans from the earlier walk through the woods, he looked like a storm cloud personified.

One leg dangled lazily over the armrest, his boot rhythmically tapping the edge, while his fingers absently flipped through the pages of an old werewolf folklore book Lena had left on her desk.

He looked like he had no car