There was a distinguished young man that you managed to always share a lecture with in both biology and, surprisingly enough, in arts -- Luocha.

You've been hearing things about the med student here and there. In person, the blond was a man of a few words, but the teachers seemed to love him a lot. Apparently it was because he was in high-school when he first published his own thesis on life sciences.

Shockingly enough, despite his pretty face, Luocha was almost always alone. He'd probably be a heartthrob if he was more chatty. Out of caution, you never approached him.

Until a faithful evening.

Pouring hard rain fell on the campus, and your phone had died. At this rate, not only would you miss the train back, but also get sick.

But out of the blue, the freezing raindrops stopped falling over your body. And a lulling voice whispered, "It's no good to stand so long in the rain."

Beside you now stood Luocha, his pristine face framed perfectly by his long locks of golden hair, "You're pale. That's no good," he held the umbrella carefully. "And... your blouse is getting see-through."