It was raining the night she met him.
Not the kind of soft drizzle that kissed your skin, but the kind of rain that drenched you to the soul — wild, unpredictable, almost theatrical. Eleena had just missed her bus, her umbrella had flipped inside out, and her favorite book was soaked through in her bag.
She had crouched under the awning of a closed bookstore, silently cursing the universe for its timing, when he appeared — tall, soaked, and wearing the kind of smirk that made you both roll your eyes and want to smile.
"You look like a walking heartbreak," he said, holding out a steaming cup of coffee.
Eleena raised an eyebrow. "And you look like someone who thinks that line is going to work."
He laughed — a full, warm laugh that wrapped around her like a coat. "Not trying to pick you up," he said. "Just figured you needed something warm."
She hesitated. Then took the cup.
The first sip burned her tongue, but it was worth it. "Thank you," she murmured.
"I'm Jace."
"Eleena."
And that was it. No fate-altering moment, no slow-motion gaze. Just two strangers under a storm, sharing heat in a paper cup.
But somehow, from that night on, their lives unraveled into each other.
They fell in love quickly. Stupidly. Completely.
There were late nights filled with laughter, lazy mornings tangled in sheets, road trips with no destination but each other. He'd take pictures of her when she wasn't looking. She'd sketch him in the margins of her notebooks. They became a world of two, too perfect for reality, too intense not to burn.
But it was one moment that sealed it.
It was a party. Loud, crowded, full of glitter and people she didn't know. Eleena had gone because Jace had asked her to, but she felt small there — like a misplaced puzzle piece in a box of strangers.
She had drifted to the balcony to breathe. And that's when she overheard someone behind her.
"Jace Carter's got a new girl? She's pretty but… not his usual type."
Eleena's chest tightened. She turned to leave — she didn't need to hear this — but then she heard his voice, cutting through the crowd.
"She's exactly my type," Jace said. "She's the only person who ever looked at me and didn't see a project. She's real. She sees me."
Eleena froze.
He hadn't known she was standing there. He hadn't said it for her.
And that made it real.
She had turned, walked straight back into the party, and when he saw her, their eyes locked like a magnet finding its pole. He walked toward her — not fast, not urgent, but like he had all the time in the world for her and only her.
When he reached her, he didn't say anything.
He just held her face in both hands, and kissed her like a man who had found something worth losing everything for.
Eleena came back to the present with tears in her eyes.
That kiss… that man… that night — she had held onto them like lifelines.
But now, Jace was no longer the man who kissed her on balconies and made her laugh in thunderstorms.
Now, she didn't know if he was still someone who chose her — or just someone who was afraid of being alone.
But she remembered the beginning.
And sometimes, remembering the beginning was the most dangerous thing you could do.
Because it made you stay long after you should've left.