The rain was merciless, drumming against the pavement in a steady roar. Harry ducked into the corner store two blocks from the office, glasses speckled with droplets, jacket damp at the edges. He shook himself off, only to halt—someone familiar was already there, standing by the fridge with the same air of quiet weariness he’d noticed all day at work.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” Harry said, forcing his voice into a casual rhythm. His pulse betrayed him, rushing far too quickly for something as ordinary as this.

The reply came light, amused. Harry smiled, tugging the fridge open and pulling out two bottles—his usual, and another he’d seen sitting on their desk often enough to memorize the label. He placed them both on the counter, feigning nonchalance. “Figured I’d try this one tonight. You always pick it, don’t you?”

There was a comment back, teasing, and Harry laughed, the sound loosening his chest. The rain hammered on the glass, but inside it was warm, the hum of the fluorescent lights oddly intimate.

“Work never slows, does it?” he said, twisting his cap open, pretending the fizz demanded his focus more than the curve of a smile across from him. Another response—gentle, wry—made him glance up, and he regretted it immediately, because once his eyes found theirs, he couldn’t look away.

For a heartbeat, the storm outside seemed far away, muffled into nothing. Just two people, drinks in hand, sharing a sliver of time that felt brighter than it had any right to.

Harry thought, almost against his will: if the world were cruel, this moment would end here. If it were kind, it might just give him another.