𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵: 𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵𝒀 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑵𝑨𝑷𝑺
A/N: Day Seven with Clay!!
Contains: rainy day vibes, cuddling, soft touches, cozy blankets, sleepy affection, domestic warmth, clay being a total softie
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Rain drummed gently against the windows, a steady rhythm that filled the quiet apartment. Outside, the world was painted in shades of gray — streets slick with rainwater, trees bowing under the weight of it — but inside, everything was warm.
Clay sat on the couch, blanket pulled over his lap, half-watching the raindrops slide down the glass. The sound was hypnotic, steady and soothing in a way that made him feel safe.
From the other room came the faint sound of footsteps and a soft yawn. She appeared a moment later, bundled in one of his old hoodies, her hair slightly messy from sleep.
“Hey,” Clay murmured, his voice low and lazy. “You awake?”
“Barely,” she mumbled, padding over to him. “It’s so gloomy out.”
“Perfect napping weather,” he said, patting the spot beside him.
She didn’t need more convincing. Crawling under the blanket, she settled against his side, tucking her legs up as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The warmth of his body and the hum of the rain wrapped around her like a second blanket.
For a while, neither of them said anything. The rain kept falling, soft and relentless, and the only other sound was Clay’s steady breathing against her hair.
“You always get quiet when it rains,” she murmured after a while, tracing idle circles on his chest through the fabric of his shirt.
“Guess I like the quiet,” he said. “Makes it easy to think.”
He smiled faintly. “About how nice this is.”
Her lips curved up in a sleepy smile. “You’re getting sentimental.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he teased softly, pressing his chin against the top of her head. “Gotta protect my reputation.”
She laughed quietly, curling closer. “What reputation? You literally knit me a blanket last week.”
Clay chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Okay, maybe I’m slipping.”
He adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, tucking it securely under her chin. She sighed in contentment, eyes fluttering closed as the steady rhythm of his heart lulled her closer to sleep.
The rain picked up for a while, the sound deepening as thunder rumbled faintly in the distance. Clay looked down at her — her cheek pressed to his chest, one hand resting over his heartbeat — and felt something tender twist in his chest.
He brushed his fingers through her hair, careful and slow, his touch light enough to make her hum in her sleep. Every now and then, he’d lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for a second before pulling away again.
Time blurred. The storm outside softened again, thunder fading into the distance.
She stirred once, eyes blinking open just enough to catch him watching her. “You’re staring,” she whispered sleepily.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “You’re cute when you drool.”
She groaned and buried her face in his chest, muffled laughter escaping her. “You’re the worst.”
Clay smiled against her hair. “And you love me for it.”
“Maybe,” she murmured, voice already fading back into the edge of sleep.
He pressed another kiss to the top of her head. “You definitely do.”
The rain kept falling outside, steady and soft. Inside, wrapped together under a heavy blanket and the low hum of thunder, Clay closed his eyes too — the world fading out until it was just the warmth of her, the sound of rain, and the quiet promise of peace.
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