Sparks in the Rain
774 Words
The call ended, and Yvonne let out a long breath. Aaron’s gentle tones, Ezra’s sugary sweetness—she saw right through them all.
Too easy.
Her head throbbed from too much screen time. Shaking off the dizziness, she rose and headed to the bathroom.
Before she could even pick up her toothbrush, a knock came at the door.
Annoyance flared—who dared interrupt her now? When she pulled the door open, her expression was anything but welcoming.
Not that she ever looked pleased to see him.
“What?” she snapped, glaring up at Sebastian in his stiff, tailored loungewear.
“…”
“I came to remind you of the time.”
His face was as stern as ever. After a pause, he rolled up his sleeve, revealing an expensive tourbillon watch. His hair was still damp and slightly messy—probably fresh from the shower—softening his usual severity.
The watch was intricate, vintage-styled, undoubtedly worth a fortune. Not really her taste, but Yvonne humored him with a glance.
Not that she actually registered the time.
“Oh.”
Her tone was ice. Sebastian, however, finally broke. “Yvonne, it’s midnight.”
“I don’t have early classes tomorrow.”
“Staying up late is unhealthy.”
“You’re still awake too.”
“…”
He fell silent. The “old man” turned away, jaw tight. After a long moment, he clenched his wrist and said quietly, “I had work to finish.”
“Then maybe youshould go to bed earlier.”
“Yvonne!”
His voice sharpened. Their eyes met—his stern, hers defiant. He stared at her ridiculous duck-print pajamas, lips parting as if to say more, but all that came out was:
“Get some rest.”
“Mhm.”
She shut the door without another word. She knew he was bad with words—they barely spoke three sentences a day despite living under the same roof.
Whatever.Yvonne shook her head and began getting ready for bed.
But Sebastian didn’t move. He stood frozen outside her soundproof door, staring at the little squirrel ornament hanging from her knob. His hand clenched, then relaxed.
Talking to her—even when she was cold—eased something in him. Now that she was gone, the weight returned. He pressed a palm lightly against her door, as if trying to feel her presence through the wood.
Even a little was enough. Even her sharp words were better than silence.
Morning Light
Yvonne woke naturally, stretching lazily. It was just past nine. She pulled open the curtains—rain had fallen overnight.
She cracked the window. Cool, fresh air drifted in, birds chirping happily. On the windowsill sat a small box of nuts, untouched. Her squirrel friend hadn’t visited.
One reason she’d chosen this villa was its peace—tucked away from the city, surrounded by trees and frequent animal visitors.
The fridge was well-stocked. Yvonne made a habit of weekly grocery runs, and a cleaning service came regularly. Her schedule was erratic—breakfast was often skipped or rushed.
Today, she settled for two slices of toast spread evenly with raspberry jam.
Outside, a light drizzle had started again. Raindrops pattered musically against the glass. Yvonne ate slowly, scrolling through notifications on her phone.
Her top chats were her own backup account and her best friend, Bianca. Scrolling past them, she skimmed the others:
[Aaron] The exhibit’s address is attached. I do hope you’ll come. I can drive you if you’d like.
[Ezra] Good morning, Sis! It’s chilly today—dress warm! Got a shoot all day 😢 Can’t game with you 💔
[Mr. Stuffy] Breakfast is on the table. Heat it up. Be careful—it’s hot.
She noticed then: a paper bag sat on the kitchen island, inconspicuous but deliberate.
Inside—cold oat milk and a sesame bagel. Sebastian’s doing.He always went for a morning run. But he’d never done anything like this before. They usually ate separately.
Why start today?
Puzzled, she sent him a single question mark: ?
No Reply
He didn’t respond. Probably in a meeting, she figured. Shrugging, she decided not to overthink it and got ready to head out.
Her go-to umbrella was still at campus. But then she noticed it—a dark, sturdy umbrella leaning discreetly by the door.
Since when did he…?
She approached and peeled off a small pink note taped to the handle.
Sebastian’s rushed handwriting read:
“Rain today. Don’t forget.”
- Writer
