Danny loved the rain, always has. There was just something about it that left her wishing for torrential downpours on the sunniest of days. It had nothing to do with soul cleansing or anything on that level. Her love for weather most people hated was very simple and given how she is, probably predictable. The thing she loved most was watching people when it rained. She’s always been a people watcher, but her enjoyment from it varied due to environmental factors. While she favored feeding off the energy people gave off when drowning in a bottle or drugging themselves into stupors, the rain and the things it caused came in a close second. When rain comes out of nowhere people run for cover, it’s not exactly panic, but there’s this frantic energy that comes the second the skies bruise then split open above unsuspecting people. When it rains she’ll sit in the middle of it all, not just soaking up energy, but getting completely soaked in the process. A few times she’s come close to the point of pneumonia from neglecting to run for cover herself. The cold seeped would seep in, but she never noticed it, not when there was energy bouncing around to keep her warm.
It wasn’t just about leeching off people that drew her towards the storms. After all, once everyone found cover there was nothing left to soak up aside from the water. She liked the quiet. It was peaceful, just sitting and listening to the pitter-patter each drip-drop brought. Sometimes she walked, usually when she just
couldn’t sit still (never one to stay put for too long), streets, alleys, forests, parks, beaches, it didn’t matter where she walked. So long as there was rain and someplace to go she’d keep on going. She’s come across many interesting things and people this way, and in those rain drenched moments, she was so sated and relaxed she found the need to push a person to the edge then over it just wasn’t there. Maybe that’s what happiness was for Danny. Yes, she’d probably agree to that, but never out loud with ears around to hear it. Possibly if she were alone in the rain, laying in a field, squinted eyes staring upwards as drops splashed against her face. She’d smile a knowing little smile and let loose a content sigh, happiness found in purity of sorts. It figures such a complex creature would enjoy something so simplistic. The rain lulled her to sleep when a restless night was broken by the rhythm of falling drops. Sometimes when there was just too much energy within her all it took was the smell of fresh rainfall filling her nose and clouding her head up like a cheap high. It brought her down nice and slow, like watching a baby give in to a fight again sleep.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Danny James often tore through people like a wicked little storm, drowned them with the urge to let go, Pushing them to the brink of destruction. Maybe Danny herself is a storm, who knows. She never took the time to ponder on such things. She simply enjoyed it whenever the rain fell, and hoped for more whenever it was done. Just like most things when it came to her and the things she drove people to; too much was never enough and never will be.
Felt it in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids.
Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs.
— Florence and the Machine
