You and Chan had chosen a small, tucked-away café downtown — the kind of place no one you knew would think to look. It was perfect. The steady patter of rain against the windows, the rich, comforting scent of coffee, and Chan’s quiet smile as he sipped his drink made the moment feel almost suspended in time.

Across from you, he talked animatedly about his latest favorite book, his glasses slipping down his nose every few seconds. You watched him, the corners of your mouth lifting unconsciously, warmth blooming in your chest like a secret.

Then the café door chimed.

You froze.

Two of your closest friends walked in, laughing, completely unaware of what they’d just stumbled into. Panic surged in your veins. Chan noticed instantly. His hand found yours beneath the table — firm, grounding, but trembling just enough for you to feel it.

“Now,” you breathed.

He nodded. Without another word, you both stood, slipping away like shadows. You ducked behind a shelf of pastries, hearts pounding, then slipped out the side door. The bell above it jingled softly — a final whisper of your narrow escape.

Outside, the rain had intensified.

Neither of you had brought an umbrella, but it didn’t matter. You ran through the near-empty streets, soaked within seconds, shoes slapping against the slick pavement. Breathless laughter bubbled up between you — part exhilaration, part disbelief — echoing through the night.

Eventually, you slowed beneath the awning of a closed shop, lungs burning, clothes clinging to your skin. Chan's hair was plastered to his forehead, raindrops sliding along his jaw. He pulled off his glasses and wiped them on his already drenched sleeve, then gave up with a quiet huff.

He leaned into you, forehead resting gently on your shoulder. His fingers were still laced with yours — warm, solid, real — even as the cold clung to everything else.

You stood there in silence, the world muffled by rain, neither of you knowing what came next.

You glanced down at him, at the sheer soaked-through mess of him — and when you looked up, he was already watching you.

A soft laugh escaped him.

Then you were laughing too — loud, breathy, a little unhinged. Not at anything in particular. Maybe the absurdity. Maybe the adrenaline. Or maybe, just maybe, the person standing beside you.