It was raining in Aragonia that night as Isabelle curled up on her bed, trying not to cry as she stared out the window of her room where rainwater splashed against the glass, and the wind that slipped through the little gaps played with her curtains, swaying them inward.
She had always enjoyed rainy days and liked to watch as the rain fell from the heavens, but this afternoon was different. She was in a dull, unsettled mood, where her heart ached and longed desperately for the man she loved. Nothing seemed or looked as enjoyable as being in his company, in his arms, where the world always felt brighter.
