The cold of the wooden floor pressed against your stomach as you lay there, unable to move your legs and waited for the feeling to return to your fingers so you would be able to at least crawl.

The fire inside the oven had died down a good hour ago, maybe even longer than that. The last bit of warmth still lingered around the cabin, but it was barley enough to keep the frost at the doorstep.

Breathing heavily, you raised your gaze to take a look outside the window. But the crack inside the glass made it impossible to see anything but a long, black void.

A shivering breath escaped you. The air rose in white clouds from your split lips.

It was already getting dark, the deep violett evening sky turned dark blue already. It was unlikely that you would be able to move again before the crack of dawn. But laying on the floor over night, a thin blanket thrown over your upper body, wouldn't do any good. At best, it would kill you in your sleep so you wouldn't have to notice.

Taking a deep, shivering breath you forced your eyes shut and tried to calm the beating of your heart. But it felt like it would burst any second.

"Gods...", you cursed and managed to clench your hands into fists. "My own stupidity..."

Groaning, you managed to pull yourself up and crawled across the floor, closer to the still warm oven. The increasing cold had already started to turn your skin pale, but as the warmth wrapped your aching limbs, the pain soothed and a light feeling reappeared inside your toes.

Slowly, you dared to move them, one by one and repeated the movements until the numbness had faded completely. Everything was still hurting, but at least your legs slowly started to be useful again. Supporting yourself with both arms, you pushed yourself up, grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter and pulled yourself up.

Gasping and sweating in exhaustion, you clawed your nails into the wooden surface and desperately tried to stand up straight while your legs were shaking, threatening to break any moment.

Pressure pressed down onto the bones. It felt like they would shatter into thousand pieces.

A few minutes passed in which you forced yourself to endure the pain until the weakness faded and your senses sharpened again. A wave of strength chased through your limbs and all at once your lungs took in a deep breath.

The air tasted fresh and sharp, like the taste of mint. But at the same time it slightly burned.

Greedily, you took a few more deep breaths.

But all of a sudden, the smell of rain filled your nose.

With a soft gasp, you glanced towards the door.

After Baldur had left, the door had fallen out of its place, leaving nothing to protect the inside of the cabin from the nightly frost. But thanks to the wide opening it was now possible that the scent of arriving rain mixed with the many different ones of the flowers outside.

For a moment, you listened to the first drops that came falling from the sky.

Your feet twitched and carried you to the doorstep. But before leaving the safety of the cabin, you hesitated.

Somehow, the desire to step outside grew inside your chest, tying your throat and making you feel like it was that one thing that could save your mind from downing in this pain that you were feeling.

But at the same time the sane part of you knew that the touch of the rain would burn like the fire of Muspelheim.

And yet.

There was this little voice in the back of your mind, screaming, begging to know how it felt like to sit in a rainstorm. In that moment your body did not fear the pain, your mind did not care for the consequences.

Slowly, almost hesitant, you leaned against the doorframe and reached out.

As the first drop of rain touched the tips of your fingers, you flinched in surprise. It itched, but didn't burn. The touch was cold, but not frosty, so unknown, so dangerous and yet the only thing that you could desire.

Your mother would have hated to see you this way, standing in the doorframe, enduring the cold air while letting death rain down on you as if it was a blessing.

But in that moment you couldn't care less for her. All these years she had made sure that this world didn't get to you. All these years she had taken the smallest kinds of things from you.

But things had changed. You had changed.

You've talked to a stranger as if he had been a friend. You knew nothing about him besides the strange, godlike name and the hate for his mother that he carried in his heart.

So, if you could survive a stranger, you could survive this rain.

Taking a deep, shaky breath in, you closed your eyes and took a step forward.

All at once, the rain came pouring down on you.

Immediately, it washed away the feeling of dried blood and drowned the pain.

For a moment, the curse fell silent. All that was left was the feeling of raindrops kissing your (S/C) skin, running down your limbs and soaking into the bandages to cool the burning of the wounds.

Only a faint itching spread. But in that moment it didn't matter.

You were too stunned by this new sensation. Slowly, you walked away from the cabin, taking away the option to escape back into safety quickly.

Your eyes were housed to the dark, clouded sky, while your hands reached out in an attempt to catch those little fragments that made your heart race with excitement.

The blossoms of the flowers danced under the pressure while hugging your naked feet.

"What are you doing?", a confused voice suddenly asked.

With your lips slightly parted, you turned your head, hands still raised.

"Baldur...", you mumbled, feeling a wave of weakness crawl up from your feet. "What are you doing here?"

He stepped closer, a flower smushed between his hands.

"I want to remember what weakness is."