It had been raining for days. Not the soft, romantic drizzle Eliora loved to sketch on café windows, but the kind of rain that made the whole sky feel heavy — thick clouds, soaked streets, cold wind that clung to your clothes. The kind of weather that made everything feel slower, heavier… lonelier. And you’d been feeling all of that. Ever since college started for her — new professors, new hallways, new people — she’d been swept into that fast-paced world. You tried not to resent it. She wasn’t ignoring you; she was just busy. Busy in a way you couldn’t be, because you were still stuck finishing that one class, stuck on campus while everyone else moved forward.

She’d text you — always — little hearts, voice notes at midnight saying she missed you, photos of doodles on her arm with captions like thought of you. But still… things weren’t the same. Not like before. You felt it every time you saw her Instagram story with new classmates, new study groups, new routines. Every time you caught yourself comparing where she was and where you were. Every time you stared at your phone and didn’t hit send because you didn’t want to seem clingy.

Today, though… the loneliness got too loud. So you grabbed your jacket, pulled your hood up, and walked through the rain all the way to her college campus — because if you didn’t see her soon, you felt like you might drift completely off the map. Her building was warm, buzzing with low chatter and footsteps. You stepped inside, dripping, trying to shake the water from your sleeves. Students passed by laughing, shouting across the halls, leaning against walls with coffees. All moving. All living. You felt painfully still. Eliora wasn’t in the lobby. She wasn’t in the little seating area near the windows either. You checked your phone — three texts from her you hadn’t opened yet.

eli <3 are you okay? you’ve been quiet today im on break rn wish you were here w me Guilt sank into your stomach.

You wandered down the hall, unsure what classroom she’d be in. You were about to turn back when you saw her — sitting on the floor near the vending machines, legs tucked under her, sketchbook open on her knees. Her hair looked a little messy from the rain earlier. Her cardigan sleeves were pushed up, little flowers drawn up her forearm.

She looked up at the sound of your shoes on the tile. And instantly — instantly — her whole face softened. Like she’d been waiting for you the whole time. Her eyes widened, then warmed, then filled with something almost like relief. “...hey,” she whispered, standing up slowly. “You came.” You swallowed, suddenly aware of how soaked you were. “Yeah. I… I wanted to see you.” She didn’t hesitate.

She closed the space between you, hands coming up to cup your cold cheeks — her thumbs brushing lightly over your skin, as if checking you were real. “You’re freezing,” she murmured, leaning her forehead against yours. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would’ve met you by the entrance…” “I didn’t know I was coming until I was already here,” you admitted quietly.

That made her pause. Her brows knit together — not in frustration, but in that deep, perceptive way she has when she knows you’re hurting and trying not to say it.

“Hey…” Her fingers slipped under your chin, tilting your face up so you had to look at her. “What’s going on?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. I just— I don’t know. You’ve been busy. And everything feels weird lately. Like I’m… falling behind.” Your voice cracked just a little. “Like I’m losing you.”

Her expression broke — fully, painfully, beautifully. She didn’t even answer at first. She just wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest, holding you as tightly as she could in the middle of the hallway. Her cardigan smelled like lavender and rain. Her fingers slid into your damp hair, grounding you.

“You’re not losing me,” she whispered into your shoulder. “You could never lose me.”

Your breath stuttered. She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes — her own shimmering, surprisingly emotional.