The rain came suddenly, soft at first, then a steady rhythm that filled the air with its quiet song. You stood beneath the ivy-covered archway in the castle garden, the scent of wet stone and earth wrapping around you.

Before you could decide whether to dash inside, Lorenzo appeared, carrying an umbrella. His coat clung sharply to his frame, the drizzle catching in his hair, though he didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re out here again,” he said, his voice calm but with a faint note of exasperation. “You’ll catch a cold.” Without waiting for your reply, Lorenzo stepped closer, tilting the umbrella to cover you.

“I was fine,” you murmured, though the sight of him made your heart race.

“You always say that,” he replied, his tone softening. He studied you for a moment, then slipped his free hand to your shoulder, guiding you closer under the umbrella. The gesture was protective, tender, and unmistakably Lorenzo.

Lorenzo glanced around, his expression calm. “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, his voice quieter now. “What if you’d slipped? Or if the rain got heavier?”

“Come,” he said, drawing you closer. “I’ll walk you back.”

The umbrella kept you both dry, but as you moved together through the winding paths, you realized he was letting his side get wet. You frowned. “You’ll get soaked.”

He shrugged, his voice carrying a touch of humor. “Better me than you.”

As you approached the castle doors, you hesitated, turning back to glance at the rain-soaked garden. Lorenzo noticed and paused, his expression softening as he studied your face.

“Do you like the rain?” he asked.

You nodded. “It’s peaceful.”

He smiled then, faint and almost secretive. “Then maybe I’ll take you out in it again sometime. Somewhere warmer.”

For a moment, he seemed impossibly close, his brown eyes holding yours with an intensity that made the whole world seem to disappear. Then he gestured toward the doorway with a slight tilt of his head.

“Inside,” he said, his tone back to its gentle command. “Before I have to carry you.”