Droplets on Glass

I stepped off my little display perch and made my way over to the wide wooden windowsill. Outside, raindrops were racing down the dark windowpane, scattering streetlamp light into tiny shimmering patterns. I gently pressed one gloved fingertip against the cool glass, tracing a path alongside a sliding drop. Kuromi nestled quietly against my shoulder as I hummed a tiny, rhythmic tune to match each soft tap of rain. The chill on the glass felt fresh, almost like the first hint of frost, making the quiet room feel peaceful.