It was already past 6 PM, halos wala nang tao sa campus. The rain was pouring hard outside, and you were still inside the classroom, fixing the papers from the SSG meeting.

“Uuwi ka pa ba, Pres?” a familiar voice asked from the doorway.

You looked up and saw the Vice President, leaning against the doorframe, his uniform slightly messy, his ID swinging as he talked.

“Yeah… inaayos ko lang ‘tong reports. Ikaw, bakit nandito ka pa?” you asked, trying to sound casual while stuffing folders into your bag.

“Eh siyempre, di kita pwedeng iwan. Class President ka nga, pero baka liparin ka ng hangin sa labas.” He chuckled as he walked closer, holding an umbrella in one hand.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat when he stood beside you — close enough for you to smell the faint scent of rain on his shirt.

“Ang lakas ng ulan, oh,” he said, glancing at the window. “Sabay na tayo umuwi.”

“Hindi na, may payong ako—” you started, but he reached out and gently pulled your wrist before you could finish.

“Pres,” he said softly, “’wag ka nang matigas. Ang ulan, hindi nakikinig sa reason.”

You froze for a second — his hand was warm despite the cold air. You could hear the rain, the hum of the empty hallway, and his quiet breathing.

“Okay, fine,” you mumbled, looking away to hide your blush.

He grinned, clearly amused. “Good. Tara na, bago pa ako mapilitan sabihing gusto lang kitang masamahan.”

You blinked. “Ano raw?”

He just smiled, stepped closer, and opened the umbrella.

“Wala, Pres,” he said while looking ahead, “baka lang kasi mabasa yung taong gusto ko.”

You stared at him — speechless — as he walked out first, leaving you to follow him under the same umbrella, cheeks warm, rain pouring, and heart doing cartwheels all the way home.