The rain had been relentless all evening, soaking the streets and blurring every outline in a grey haze. You had told Ahaan not to wait — insisted, even — because you knew how he was: stubborn, dramatic, and all kinds of reckless.

But as you stepped out of the college gates, clutching your bag close, your heart caught mid-beat.

There he was.

Standing across the road, hoodie clinging to him like second skin, hair drenched, cigarette long forgotten between his fingers. The smoke had faded, but the storm in his eyes hadn’t.

People hurried past, umbrellas up, heads down — but he didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just stood there like some foolish, beautiful rebellion against your words.

His eyes locked on you, like he hadn’t waited in the rain — he’d waited for you.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter how soaked he was, or how much you hated that he never listened — it only mattered that he was still there. For you. As always.

The chaos around you roared louder, but between you and him, there was only silence… and something that felt dangerously close to love