THALIA
Gino didn’t answer Mira’s question. Instead, he crossed their distance in three long strides and, before she could react, pulled her into a tight embrace.
The umbrella slipped from her hand, clattering onto the wet pavement. The women beside her stiffened, eyes widening as if they were watching a crime unfold. Mira, on the other hand, went rigid. Her face flushed in an instant.
“O-oi, what is up with you?” she complained, voice pitched higher than her usual. It was more fluster than irritation.
Gino didn’t let go, still sighing in relief.
“You could’ve replied,” he muttered, breath still uneven from leftover panic, “One message, anything. I thought something bad happened to you.”
He finally pulled back, hands lingering on her shoulders before dropping to his sides and fluster
