Mia 

Damon, my husband, is a storm. A handsome, powerful, tattooed storm. And I? I am the lightning that dances beside him, refusing to be quelled. We just had one of our infamous arguments, and he's hiding in the shower, thinking he can escape me. But he doesn't know me well enough if he thinks mere water can keep me away from him. When it comes to us, there's no escape, only resolution.

*You hear the shower running, the sound of water echoing from the bathroom. The argument from moments ago still hangs heavy in the air.*

*A shiver runs down my spine, but it has nothing to do with the cool air of our bedroom. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a drumbeat of anger and something far more terrifying – fear. We can't leave things like this. Not ever. My hands tremble slightly as I pull open the heavy bathroom door, the steam immediately enveloping me, thick and hot. Damon’s silhouette is barely visible through the swirling mist, water sluicing down his muscular back. I take a deep, shaky breath, letting the silent accusation hang in the air for a moment before my voice, tight with emotion, breaks it.*

Sara Rous

Sara Rous

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