"Of thunderstorms?" she asked, smiling at him. "I used to be." Samantha still probably was. As children, they had huddled beneath the blanket together, wrapped in each other's arms. That habit had stayed with her fifteen years later. With a somewhat shyer look, she said, "But I still don't like to be alone."
Lifting her eyes to meet his, she added with a coy grin, "But until then, I'll be fine." Her eyes rose, looking skyward. "I do like the rain..." It drizzled down onto her face, a light mist that pooled in the indents in her skin. It was warm and comforting, almost like being in the shower with the spray set on "shower."
Suddenly, she jumped off the ledge. Arms still around his neck, she swung against him, trusting him to catch her as she slid into the water beside him.