Chapter 2 - The Days Between Raindrops

The rain didn't come the next day. Amara noticed. She stood by the waiting shed, the same place where everything had begun, her fingers lightly gripping the strap of her bag. The sky was clear—too clear. The kind of blue that felt unfamiliar, almost wrong. And Eli wasn't there. She told herself it didn't matter. It had only been one moment, one conversation. People come and go all the time. There was no reason to expect him to show up again. …Right? Still, her eyes kept drifting to the corner where he used to stand—slightly drenched, careless, smiling like the rain belonged to him. Amara looked away. "Stop it," she muttered to herself. But her heart didn't listen. ⸻ The next day, it rained again. Soft. Gentle. Familiar. And there he was. "Missed me?" Eli asked casually, as if he hadn't just occupied her thoughts for the past 24 hours. Amara blinked. "No." Eli raised an eyebrow. "That was too quick. Suspicious." "I just got used to the silence again," she replied, looking straight ahead. "Ah," he nodded, pretending to understand. "So I'm noise now?" "…A little," she admitted. Eli laughed softly, and for some reason, the sound made the rain feel warmer. ⸻ They fell into a strange rhythm after that. Not quite friends. Not strangers either. Just two people who existed in the same place, at the same time, sharing quiet conversations that somehow meant more than they should. "You always come here at this time?" Eli asked one afternoon. "Yes." "Why?" Amara shrugged. "Routine." "That's boring." "It's peaceful." Eli tilted his head. "You really like quiet, huh?" Amara didn't answer right away. "It's easier," she said finally. "Easier than what?" "…Than getting used to people." Eli didn't reply. But he didn't joke this time either. ⸻ Days passed. And somehow, Eli became part of her routine. Not in a loud, obvious way—but in small things. Like how she would bring an extra napkin without thinking. Or how she would stand a little to the left, leaving space for him beside her. Or how the waiting shed didn't feel complete unless he was there, slightly late, slightly out of breath, smiling like he always did. "You're smiling," Eli pointed out one day. Amara immediately looked away. "I'm not." "You are." "I'm not." "You literally are right now." "…It's the rain." Eli chuckled. "Sure. Blame the rain." ⸻ One afternoon, the rain came heavier than usual. The kind that filled the streets and blurred the world into soft shapes and reflections. Amara hugged her arms slightly, watching the water pool along the sidewalk. Without a word, Eli stepped closer. Not too close. Just enough. "You're cold," he said. "I'm fine." "You say that a lot." "Because I am." Eli didn't argue. Instead, he quietly took off his jacket and held it out to her. Amara stared at it. "I don't need it." "I know," Eli said. "But I want you to have it." There was something in his voice—gentle, steady, impossible to ignore. Slowly, Amara took the jacket. "…Thank you." Eli smiled, softer this time. "See? That wasn't so hard." Amara rolled her eyes slightly, but she didn't give it back. ⸻ That night, the rain didn't stop. And for the first time in a long while, neither did her thoughts. She sat by her window, Eli's jacket draped over her chair. It still smelled faintly like rain. And something warmer. Amara touched the sleeve lightly, her chest tightening in a way she didn't understand. "This is bad," she whispered. Because she knew. She knew this feeling. And she knew where it could lead. ⸻ The next day, she almost didn't go. She told herself it was better this way. To stop before things got deeper. To leave before she got hurt. But when the sky turned gray… Her feet moved on their own. ⸻ Eli was already there. "Hey," he greeted, like always. Amara hesitated. Then walked toward him. "Hi." There was a small pause. Eli noticed the jacket folded neatly in her hands. "You can keep it," he said. "I washed it," she replied, handing it back. Eli took it, but his eyes stayed on her. "You didn't have to." "I wanted to." Another pause. Different this time. He smiled slightly. "You're weird, you know that?" Amara blinked. "Why?" "You say you don't need people," Eli said, "but you do things that say the opposite." Her heart skipped. "I never said I don't need people," she replied quietly. Eli tilted his head. "Then what do you mean?" Amara looked at the rain. Falling. Soft. Endless. "I just don't want to lose them," she admitted. The words felt heavier than the storm. ⸻ Eli didn't laugh. Didn't tease. Didn't fill the silence. He just… stayed. "I get that," he said softly. Amara glanced at him, surprised. Eli shrugged. "Losing people sucks." There was something in his eyes—something deeper than his usual lightness. For the first time, Amara realized… Maybe she wasn't the only one hiding things. ⸻ The rain slowed. Drip by drip. Like a quiet promise. Eli looked at her, a small smile returning to his face. "Then don't lose me," he said. Amara froze. Her heart pounded, louder than anything she had ever heard. "…It's not that simple." Eli stepped a little closer. "Maybe it is." The space between them felt smaller now. Warmer. Real. ⸻ Amara looked at him. Really looked at him. And for the first time… She didn't look away. Sent 3m agoWrite to Kas Sie