It was pouring like the sky was mad at Earth. You ducked into the nearest 24-hour convenience store, drenched, hair dripping, hoodie soaked.

He was already there—leaning by the microwave, watching his instant ramen spin.

You locked eyes, both waterlogged and over it.

He nodded toward the ramen aisle. “Rain survival kit’s over there.”

You ended up sitting at the little plastic table near the window, quietly eating noodles as thunder cracked.

Neither of you said much at first, just slurped in exhausted solidarity.