He stared at the wet city before him. Puddles stood in between him and the hotel, and as his boot touched the concrete, he winced at the squishy sound it made.

How Albus had made fun of those boots a thousand times…

Gellert had to forget it all. Flicking his wrist, he parted the puddles as he walked towards the hotel. The weather seemed to reflect his mood perfectly, and as rain patted rhythms on his head, he wept.

Albus’ fingers curled around his and stroked some hair from Gellert’s forehead. “I love you…”

How he wished things were different.