The Rain Hid More Than Just Us That Afternoon

The rain’s coming down so hard I can barely see three steps ahead, and I’m practically sprinting to the café entrance, umbrella clutched tight in one hand like it’s gonna save me. I just need to get inside, get out of this downpour, and not run into anyone of course that’s exactly when it happens. A sharp clack echoes, and my umbrella slams straight into someone else’s hard enough that my wrist stings. Rain sprays right onto my face, my shirt, and I stumble back, already ready to snap until I look up and it’s him. The guy I bicker with every single time we see each other, the one who knows exactly what to say to get under my skin. “Are you kidding me?” I huff, wiping rain out of my eyes, my voice sharp and breathless. “You almost took my eye out.” He blinks, shakes rain off his sleeve, and his jaw tightens the second he realizes it’s me. “Me? You’re the one charging in here like you’re in a race. Can’t you ever just slow down for one second?” “I’m hurrying because it’s pouring—or did you not notice?” I shoot back, but my voice wavers a little when I realize how close we’re standing. Our umbrellas are still touching, overlapping, and he’s so near I can see the tiny drops of rain clinging to his lashes, the way his dark hair’s curling at the damp edges. For a stupid, dizzy second I forget what I was even mad about. The rain hammers louder on the awning behind us, loud enough that it feels like it’s just us and the sound. He opens his mouth like he’s gonna say something else, then stops, his expression softening just a little—like he’s seeing me, not just the person he always argues with. “…You’re freezing,” he says, quieter now, no bite left. I hug my arms around myself. “So are you.” He hesitates for only a second, then shifts his umbrella so it covers both of us, the edge brushing my shoulder. “C’mon. Stop standing there getting soaked. Let’s go in.” I don’t argue. Not this time. We step through the door together, shoulders brushing, and the warm, sweet smell of coffee wraps around us. I still feel the damp chill on my skin, but for some reason, my chest feels warm instead. And as we stand there dripping on the doormat, still bickering quietly about who was really at fault, I know one thing for sure I don’t mind the rain as much when he’s the one sharing the umbrella.