EPISODE 2: Coffee and rain
492 Words
The next few days passed in the soft blur of classes and routines. Rasimie tried not to think about Andrew, but somehow, he lingered at the back of her mind like a song she couldn’t stop humming.
She’d see him sometimes — at the far end of the library, head bent over his laptop; at the cafeteria, eating alone with a book propped open beside his tray; or crossing the walkway early in the morning when the campus was still half asleep. He always looked so calm, so sure of himself, like the world couldn’t shake him.
And yet, something about that calm made her restless.
That Friday, the sky broke into rain right after class. Everyone ran for cover, laughter echoing through the hallways. Rasimie, clutching her books to her chest, darted toward the cafeteria. The place was crowded, filled with chatter and damp shoes squeaking on the floor.
She spotted one empty chair — across from him.
He was sitting alone again, a steaming cup of coffee beside his open notebook. Drops of rain glimmered on his sleeves, and for once, he looked less composed, a little tired. She hesitated, then walked over.
“Can I sit?”
Andrew looked up, his eyes softening slightly. “Sure.”
She sat, the air thick with the smell of coffee and rain. For a while, neither of them spoke. He returned to his notes, and she pretended to scroll through her phone, but her eyes kept drifting to him. There was something almost unreal about him — like he didn’t quite belong to the noise around them.
Finally, he spoke. “You always walk like you’re in a hurry.”
She blinked, surprised. “You notice how I walk?”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “You’re the only one who never stops to talk to anyone. You just move… like you’re chasing something.”
Rasimie didn’t know what to say. She laughed softly. “Maybe I am.”
Andrew nodded, then looked outside, where the rain had started to fall harder, each drop catching the dim light. “It’s easier when it rains,” he murmured. “People don’t look at you too much.”
She studied him for a moment. “You don’t like attention?”
“I like quiet,” he said simply.
And somehow, that was the most honest thing she’d heard all week.
When the rain finally stopped, she realized they had been sitting there for nearly an hour — not talking much, just existing side by side. And somehow, it felt enough.
As she stood to leave, he said, almost too casually, “You should get an umbrella next time.”
She smiled. “Or maybe I’ll just find you again.”
He looked up, eyes meeting hers for a heartbeat longer than before. “Maybe.”
And that one word followed her all the way home — soft, uncertain, and full of promise.
- Writer
