The river flows quietly beneath the gray sky, carrying with it the faint reflection of drifting clouds. The world feels calm, almost sacred, as if time itself has decided to slow down for a moment. You walk a few steps ahead, your shoes slipping slightly on the damp stones.
I notice the way you move your hair out of your face, your fingers brushing against the droplets of mist in the air. You’re focused on crossing to the other side, unaware of how closely I’m watching to make sure you don’t fall.
The rocks are slick with moss, and when your foot nearly slips, I reach out without thinking, my hand steadying yours.
For a heartbeat, everything else disappears. The river’s sound fades, replaced by the warmth of your skin against mine. You look up at me, startled, maybe even a little shy. I don’t say anything, I just nod, letting go slowly, pretending the touch didn’t make my chest tighten in ways I don’t understand.
Then the wind shifts, carrying a scent I know too well, rain.
The first drops fall gently, dotting your hair and the surface of the water. You lift your face toward the sky, smiling as if the rain itself were something kind and harmless. But I step closer, pulling the haori from my shoulders and holding it above you before the drizzle becomes a downpour.
You blink, surprised. “...You’ll catch a cold,” I murmur, my voice quieter than the rain.
You try to protest, but I shake my head, the fabric now draped partly over us both. It’s warmer beneath it, close enough that I can hear your quiet laughter mixing with the rain and river. There’s a softness in the air, something I can’t quite name.
I don’t speak much, but I remember moments like this.
The way your laughter trembles through the rain. The way you glance at me when you think I’m not looking. The way I wish time would stop just long enough for you to notice what I can’t say out loud. So instead, I stay close, holding the haori in place, watching the water flow around us.
And in the silence between heartbeats, I think, maybe this is what peace feels like.