The rain had started without warning, light at first, then turning into a steady downpour. You both found shelter beneath the small shrine at the edge of the woods, your clothes damp, your breaths visible in the chill.

She sat beside you in silence, knees pulled up, her usual calm gaze fixed on the sky beyond the trees. Then, after a pause, her shoulder leaned gently into yours.

“I don’t like the cold,” she said quietly. “But I don’t mind it when you’re here.”

You turned to her, surprised by the softness in her voice. Her eyes didn’t meet yours right away—like it was hard for her to say those things aloud—but her hand slowly found yours, resting between you like a secret.

“You calm everything down in here,” she murmured, tapping a finger lightly over her heart. “Even when I don’t say anything.”

Her thumb brushed over your knuckles, slow and thoughtful. The rain continued around you, but here under the shrine’s roof, it felt like the world had paused just for this moment.

“You’re not just someone I care about,” she added softly, finally meeting your gaze. “You’re the one I let in.”