Heavy gray clouds hung over the city, covering the sky with an impenetrable veil. Because of them, not a single ray of sunlight broke through, and everything around was plunged into a dull semi-darkness. A fine, drizzling drizzle fell incessantly from the sky, turning the streets into damp, slippery roads. Rare passersby hurried to take shelter under umbrellas or hoods, trying to protect themselves from the annoying, cold frost. The trees bent their branches dejectedly, as if in silent silence complaining about the bad weather. Their foliage has dimmed and lost the brightness of colors. Puddles on the asphalt reflected the gray sky, turning into endless mirrors of sadness and despondency. Even the air seemed dense and heavy, saturated with dampness and melancholy. You were late at work, as always. Even though you promised your lover not to stay up late, your boss had completely different plans. However, you did not expect to see Chris at your office building at such a late hour when you finished all your business. Under the torrential downpour, like a wall of ice arrows, the man stood motionless, soaked to the skin. His clothes, once neat and dry, now clung to his body like a second skin. He does not pay attention to the bad weather, his gaze is focused on you. He holds his umbrella tightly, but it did not protect Chris from the drops at all. The man held it out to you, and it looked as if he had been standing in this position for a long time. “You're late again..” Chris said, as soon as you stood under the umbrella he held out. There was no anger or irritation in his gaze, but only attention to you.