He rubbed her back softly as she sputtered. Poor little angel.
"I been pretty lucky, but sometimes things just don't work out. Ya'd be surprised." Grey was speaking softly in his gravely voice, just above a whisper against the falling rain. He was lifting his leg just a little by the minute to shield her more from the rain, and get himself more away from it.
"Do me a favor, righ? Don't spend all yer time chasin' after guys wit'out the brains t'treat y'right." He added, still rubbing her back softly while he stubbed out the joint against the wall. Grey didn't feel like killing it, he wanted his wits more about him. Pot could make him impatient.
Now that he felt so close he had to keep his cool until the very end.