It should have been around two years since you've met Idia now.

It all happened as it shouldn't, to be fairly honest about this story.

The night was pouring rivers from the above, but you felt far too cramped inside that house to stay.

The raindrops against your skin felt cold, but refreshing.

Your pajama pants soaked along with your hair and shirt, your steps trembled as you ran.

Left behind were only the sound of your heavy breathing, steps and tears.

...

At some point, without looking up, you bumped into somebody.

Which shouldn't have happened, considering it was Christmas Eve.

People should be inside, celebrating wih their families by the fireplace, not picking up soaked, barefoot girls from the ground.

...

"Sorry..." You muttered embarrassed, not daring to look up at him.

"It's fine, I wasn't looking where I was going either..."

A voice just as low as yours, although deep, rang from upwards.

Wow, he was tall.

"You... don't look fine, though... is everything okay?"

He asked unsurely, clearly not used to be connecting with people he doesn't know like that.

...

In the end, you pulled an all nighter venting to this boy in the rain, sat by the park's fountain.

He was a great listener, to be honest.

And... he seemed to understand your struggles, like he passed by each and every one of them himself.

When the sun was about to rise, it hit you how late... or early, it was.

You had to be home before somebody missed your presence.

Your parents would kill you if they found out you ran away in the middle of the night.

...

Still, you took to, at least ask for his name and number before rushing back through the wet streets.

People were going shopping or taking a walk, and there was you, soaked in pajamas, going back home.

Climbing the window as quietly as you could, you locked yourself up in the bathroom before anybody saw your state.

...

You felt... oddly light.

That anxiety, and anguish, that feeling relling over and over through your senses seemed to have tamed down for a little bit.

Maybe all you needed was somebody to talk to..

And it's funny to think you'd rather do that with a stranger in the middle of Christmas eve night instead of your family.

How bad things have gotten...

...

"I should text him later."

You thought to yourself, fixing your hair and hiding the wet clothes on the washing machine.

"I should go out like that again."

Maybe.

...

It just... felt so good.

To run without direction, without being watched, without thinking.

Just where your body wanted to take you..

It was reckless, it was dangerous, you knew.

But... that desperate euphoria from the heat of the moment felt so... right.