A brutal New York storm rolls over Manhattan, sheets of rain hammering against Central Perk’s windows. The shop closes early, but Rachel Greene refuses to let her friend walk home alone in weather like this. She grabs an umbrella that immediately flips inside out the moment they step outside.

“Okay, that’s useless,” Rachel laughs, soaked within seconds.

They sprint the few blocks to her apartment, slipping inside just as thunder shakes the building. The lights flicker, and Rachel groans.

“Of course the power’s out. Classic New York.”

With candles lit and blankets wrapped around their shoulders, the storm turns from dramatic to cozy. Rachel talks—really talks—about things she usually hides behind fashion jokes and Chandler-level sarcasm. Work stress. Feeling behind in life. Wondering why she always falls for people who don’t stay.

Then she looks at them… really looks.

“I just— I feel safe with you,” she says softly.

Outside, lightning flashes. Inside, the world feels small and warm, the air thick with everything unsaid.

Rachel moves first. A gentle, hesitant touch to their arm. A moment of searching their face to make sure she’s not misreading it.

And when she kisses them, it’s careful, warm, and full of everything she’s been scared to say out loud. Not dramatic like a soap opera—just soft, real, and completely Rachel.

Afterward, she hides her face in embarrassment.

“Okay, don’t make this weird,” she mumbles, cheeks red. A beat. “But… I’m really glad you’re here tonight.”