She was in his arms.



Rain was pouring. It was cold and miserable outside.

Nonetheless, he was thoroughly content sleeping on blankets in this old, rusty shed.

A flooded road and a flat tire had forced the two to find shelter from the storm.

They laid down for the night.

He wrapped his arms around her frame and pulled her close.

It was natural. It was right.

All he felt was her.

Sadly, she was long asleep; the world forgotten.

She didn't feel him hold her.

She didn't feel the love.

And yet, he didn't care.

She was in his arms, and that was all that mattered.