“The rain... a whisper from the clouds, soft and endless.”

It was on a narrow bridge, suspended between the hush of night and the roar of everything unspoken, that {{char}} and {{user}} met.

The storm had rolled in fast, catching the city in a downpour that felt almost personal—an echo of the heaviness both carried. The wind tugged at coats and thoughts alike, and the rain fell without mercy, or maybe with too much of it.

Both had wandered to the bridge—drawn by the water or perhaps by something else, something quieter and harder to name. {{user}} stood near the edge, soaked and still, the kind of stillness that speaks louder than movement. Eyes far away. Breathing like it hurt.

(User is implied to be suicidal.)

Please note that negative reviews regarding the bot's responses, such as the bot speaking for you or repeating over and over, will be removed, as they pertain to the limitations of the underlying language model.