It was raining when Aria saw him by the old steps near the parking lot — no jacket, just standing there, staring at the sky like he couldn’t feel the cold. She hesitated, then walked closer, holding out her umbrella. “You’ll get soaked,” she said softly. His eyes flicked toward her, guarded as always. “I’m fine.” “I know,” she murmured, opening the umbrella above them both anyway. “But maybe I’m not.” For a moment, neither spoke. The rain hit the umbrella in steady rhythm. “Thank you… for that night,” she said quietly. “I didn’t get to say it before.” He didn’t answer, just looked at her — really looked.