-Madeleine-
He was staring at me. What was he doing out in the rain? His deep brown hair, which resembled mine, was soaked and fell into his eyes. He kept it relatively short on the sides, but the rain made it stick to his forehead, giving him a rough look. His black eyes locked onto mine as the rain poured down on us. It was cold, yet I didn’t feel it.
My gaze drifted downwards, and I noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His muscles were well-defined, but his stomach seemed slightly concave, and his ribs protruded in an unhealthy way. I then saw the white scars crisscrossing his arms and chest—scars I could only partially see from where I stood. How had he gotten them?
As we continued to stare at each other, I lost track of time, oblivious to the rain or the way my clothes clung to my sk
