Like a crackling fire, my laugh is sharp and scorching. Undisciplined, unruly sounds explode from my lungs at any moment. Even the water streaming from my eyes can not put out my heated howls. 

But his laugh, his laugh is confident. His laugh tears through the air and tackles any challenging chuckle. Eyes and ears always gather to witness the circus that surrounds him and his lovable laugh. His laugh is gasoline, a catalyst to my burning cackles. Warm and sincere, his laugh sucks the cold, dead air out of any room and replaces it with an amusing atmosphere. His laugh is a blanket sheltering me from the cold rain outside. His laugh, like a cautious guardian, will protect my fire from the hurricane of reality looming over us.