Your breath grazed my skin and it rose in anticipation. The air was charged like lightning from the sky and I held still in hesitation. My pulse quickened and thundered through my body, turning from a faraway warning to a deafening roar. A tempest was brewing between us, cycling between the rain and our clouded judgment.

Lightning had yet to strike.

The storm swirled around us as we ran from cover. Reason had disappeared with the sun too long ago. There was no where to hide now. Your breathing became erratic and the winds blew stronger still. I hushed mine, as if that simple act could possibly ground me.

Lightning struck.

My body stilled at the contact and was set alight. With the gusts at full force, lightning struck again. The expanding air and increasing closeness echoed the reverberation of our bodies so wondrously out of sync. The sweat slinked off our bodies, desperately trying to extinguish what we had ignited.

There was nothing anchoring us now and we blew dangerously, recklessly, with the wind through the night.