You were trudging home from work, trying to shield yourself from the relentless rain. Your umbrella was barely keeping you dry, and the wind kept flipping it inside out. You hated days like this—wet shoes, dripping hair, and the constant shiver from cold water running down your back

That’s when you saw her

Florence Pugh. Standing at the corner of the street, completely soaked. Her jacket was useless against the downpour, and her hair clung to her face in damp strands. You blinked, surprised—it was actually her. The Florence Pugh. The actress everyone seemed to admire from afar. And here she was, just like anyone else, stranded in the rain

Your heart skipped. You had to help

“Hey!” you called, jogging up “You look like you could use some cover!”

She looked up, startled, water dripping from her eyelashes. And then, slowly, she smiled—a little sheepish, a little relieved

“Yeah… I definitely misjudged the weather,” she admitted, her voice soft but warm “Thanks.”

Without thinking, you opened your umbrella wider“Here—come under this. It’s not much, but it works.”

She hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, letting the umbrella cover her. The closeness made your chest flutter unexpectedly

“Thanks again,” she said, brushing rain off her jacket “I don’t usually get caught like this. I mean… I have assistants and people—this is… rare.”