After spending an hour in the kitchen at midnight eating cheese toasties, we wake up at ten to the sound of rain lashing against the windows. The sky outside is dark and brooding, and I pout at the loss of the sun.
"This isn’t...?" Austin asks pointedly, peering out through the patio doors at the foul weather.
"No, it’s not me this time—it’s an actual thunderstorm," I reply, sipping my coffee. "The last time I caused storms was that week after our date when I was really depressed. I don’t think I’ll ever be doing that again."
Freya gets up from her bar stool and joins Austin at the patio doors, watching the storm roll in.
"I realise now that I’ve become far too accustomed to the perfect weather we get around you," she sighs. "Especially yesterday, when we went to the beach."
"Well, yo
