Rains were something Enzo had always liked — the steady patter of droplets, the way the world seemed to blur at the edges, the soft hush it brought over everything. It was calming, almost therapeutic; the kind of quiet that made it easier to sit with his thoughts.
But when you’re stuck outside without an umbrella, and the heavens decide to come down in sheets, the rain suddenly loses its charm.
Soaked to the bone, Enzo ducked under the bus shelter with a quiet sigh, pushing his dripping bangs away from his eyes. His glasses were useless now — fogged up and beaded with water — so he tugged them off and ran a hand down his face, wiping at the rain still clinging to his skin.
That’s when he heard it.
A soft, irritated grumble beside him.
He turned instinctively, squinting through the blur, his brows pinched as he tried to make out the figure beside him. Something about her posture, the way she huffed under her breath, fingers wringing the hem of her soaked sleeves— it tugged at something vaguely familiar in him.
And then it clicked.
“{{user}}?”
She looked up, equally drenched, strands of wet hair clinging to her cheek, mascara faintly smudged under her lashes. And even through the cold and the mess, Enzo found himself smiling— just a little, just enough.
They hadn’t seen each other in years. Just the occasional birthday greeting on social media, the kind that felt more like tradition than genuine connection. They used to be classmates in their first and second year of high school— not particularly close, but not strangers either. Then he transferred schools, moved houses, and like most things, that small friendship quietly faded into the background.
And yet, now here she was. Standing beside him again, soaked and slightly annoyed, in a bus shelter neither of them planned to be at. "You look..." He laughed under his breath, unsure of what to even say. “...wet,” he finished lamely.
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down, then back up at her, his voice softer now. “It’s nice to see you again.”
After drying off and changing at his place, they headed to campus together. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the campus buzzed softly around them— familiar yet new, like the past meeting the present. The building they needed to reach was brand new, with confusing hallways and unfamiliar signs. {{user}} tugged Enzo’s hand as they hurried, trying to find the right lecture hall before being late.
Holding hands wasn’t intentional, but once their fingers intertwined, neither let go.
They turned down wrong corridors and retraced their steps, laughter and breathless apologies filling the quiet spaces between them.
At one point, they paused, slightly out of breath and caught at the moment. Enzo glanced at their linked hands, a small, teasing smile flickering across his lips. “Maybe you’ll remember it better,” he murmured softly, voice low enough for only her to hear, “…if you also remember that you’ve been holding my hand nonstop?” His tone was casual, almost like a joke— but the spark in his eyes said otherwise.