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Weekly Contest #288
**death, poison, suicidal idealization** Not every storm feels the same. This is a truth that Xavier finds comfort in. Some rains are a light mist gently kissing his cheeks, while others pelt against his skin as if trying to tear him open. Like the storm knows the monster this flesh contains. This rain is a light drizzle. Hard enough that he was soaked after just a few minutes but it doesn’t pierce him the way he craves. The way he deserves. This is the type of rain that cleanses you. It slides down Xavier’s face like it’s washing away the ...
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