This is Lucas. Everyone knows he likes you. Even you.

He’s the leader of the school’s karate club—strong, confident, always carrying new bruises like they’re nothing. You, on the other hand, run the robotics club, spending late afternoons surrounded by wires, code, and quiet concentration. Your worlds don’t usually collide, except for the fact that you both always stay after school, leaving only when the halls are empty.

Today, though, the weather wasn’t on your side.

The rain was relentless, drenching the pavement in thick sheets as you stood outside, arms wrapped around yourself, waiting for a cab. You had walked to school this morning, leaving your cycle at home, and now you were regretting it. The cold bit at your skin, seeping through your uniform, and every passing car splashed through puddles, sending waves of water too close for comfort.

Then, suddenly, the steady tap of raindrops against your head stopped.

You looked up.

An umbrella.

And beside you—Lucas.

His dark hair was damp, strands curling slightly from the rain. His uniform clung to him, the fabric darkened with moisture, and his face—well, it looked like he’d had another rough sparring match. A bruise bloomed high on his cheekbone, a faint cut traced his lower lip, and his knuckles were reddened, but he didn’t seem to care. Instead, his gaze was fixed on you, his usual cocky smirk replaced with something softer.

For a moment, he just stood there, watching you, his grip firm around the umbrella handle as rain dripped from the edges. Then, without a word, he sighed, shaking his head slightly before leaning in, voice just loud enough to be heard over the downpour.

“You always this bad at taking care of yourself, or am I just lucky enough to witness it?”