To be perfectly honest, Zain would’ve rather been anywhere but this grungy hell-hole. Actually, he’d like to be at home, watching some random sitcom, and stuffing his face with cheetos.

But, alas, fate was too unkind.

Instead, he was standing outside of a Fanny’s door, in the freezing rain, soaked to his ever-lovin’ bone; even his teeth were starting to chatter from the cold. A bit aggravated, Zain lifted his hand to once again beat against the door’s hard surface.

Why was he here again?

“Who is it?” came the muffled sniffle from the other side of the door.

Zain scowled, and parted his cracked lips. “Fanny!” He growled, “Open the damn door.”

A surprise gasp sounded from the other side of the door, before it was quickly slung open. In the door way, stood Fanny, her sun-like tresses spilling over her shoulders and exotic green eyes swollen from crying.

Ah, yes, that was right. This was why he came. Without another word, Zain smiled, and even though still soaked, embraced the crying girl.