The storm had swallowed the school grounds whole. Students ran in every direction, laughter mixing with shrieks as umbrellas flipped inside out. To Arin, however, the chaos was just another reminder of how much he disliked unpredictability. He liked order—books stacked neatly, problems with solutions, days planned out. Rain ruined all of that.
Clutching his textbooks, he pressed himself against the library's stone wall. His shirt clung uncomfortably, his shoes squeaked with every tiny movement. He was weighing the odds of sprinting through the flood of water when a shadow blocked out the rain.
"Do you plan on waiting for the storm to end, or do you want to live here forever?"
Arin looked up. Rian Han—the name carried weight even before the boy himself appeared. Everyone knew him: son of the city's most powerful CEO. His charm was infamous, his arrogance legendary. He stood there now, umbrella tilted, blazer immaculate, eyes glinting with amusement.
Arin frowned. "I'm fine."
Rian smirked, lowering the umbrella just enough for a cold splash to hit Arin's shoulder.
Arin gasped. "What are you doing?"
"Getting your attention," Rian replied smoothly. "It worked."
Reluctantly, Arin stepped under the umbrella. Their shoulders brushed, sending a jolt through him. The warmth of Rian's presence contrasted with the storm raging around them. Arin kept his gaze fixed forward, determined not to react.
By the time they reached the gate, Rian's car waited, sleek and polished even under the rain. The chauffeur bowed slightly, holding a second umbrella.
"Get in. I'll drop you," Rian offered.
Arin shook his head firmly. "No. I'll walk."
"You'll be soaked."
"I already am."
For a moment, silence stretched. Then Rian chuckled—a sound too genuine, too soft for his usual arrogance. "Suit yourself, bookworm. But remember—storms don't last forever. Neither does distance."
And just like that, he was gone, leaving Arin standing in the rain, books heavy against his chest, heart even heavier.