Adrian had intended the gesture to be simple. A small act, subtle enough to show goodwill without overstepping boundaries. But as he approached Isla that morning, he realized quickly that his idea of subtlety was hopelessly different from hers.
"You're blocking the sun," he said casually, holding out a large umbrella he had borrowed from the café.
She squinted at him, puzzled. "I'm—blocking the sun? I'm fine."
"No, seriously," Adrian insisted, stepping closer. "It's going to be hot walking to the school office. Thought this might help."
Isla tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. "You… bought me an umbrella?" she asked, suspicion dripping from every word.
"I didn't buy it," he said, trying to sound casual. "I… borrowed it. Temporarily. From the café. That's all."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Borrowed… from the café?" She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. "You make it sound like a crime."
Adrian sighed, inwardly groaning. "It's not a crime. It's… considerate. That's all."
"Considerate?" she echoed, her voice light but edged with doubt. "Or are you trying to… impress me?"
He froze. The words hit differently than he expected. "Impress you?" he repeated, incredulous. "No. I'm not… I'm not trying to impress anyone."
Her eyes narrowed, studying him like a hawk. "Then why are you following me around, city boy? Offering umbrellas, standing too close, watching my every move?"
Adrian ran a hand down his face, exasperated. "I'm not 'following' you! I'm… I'm trying to survive in this province without stepping on everyone's toes. And yes… maybe I notice you more than I should, but—"
"You notice me?" she interrupted, incredulous, though a small blush betrayed her. "Oh, so that's it? I'm just… someone to notice?"
"No!" His voice dropped an octave, quieter but urgent. "You're not just someone. You're… you're different, Isla. And it's impossible not to notice that. But I didn't come here to cause trouble. I… I just want to help. That's it."
She studied him for a long moment, clearly trying to decide if she believed him. Finally, she let out a sigh, half exasperation, half amusement. "You're ridiculous. You know that?"
"Possibly," he admitted, a small, rare smile tugging at his lips. "But I'm sincere. I promise."
Her gaze flicked down to the umbrella, then to his eyes. "Sincere," she repeated softly, almost to herself. There was a weight to the word that neither of them could ignore, a quiet acknowledgment of unspoken truths.
Before he could respond, Lara popped up from behind a stack of crates, waving energetically. "Hey! Isla! Adrian! Don't forget, the school meeting's starting in ten minutes."
Isla turned to Lara, rolling her eyes. "Do you always appear at the most… inconvenient moments?"
"Only when it's fun," Lara replied with a grin. "Speaking of fun… Adrian, you really should know better than to try subtle gestures. It's hilarious."
Adrian's eyes narrowed at her teasing tone. "Hilarious?"
"Yes," Lara said, nudging Isla. "He's trying to be all mysterious and helpful, and she's trying not to laugh at him. It's comedy gold."
Isla gave a small snort, covering her mouth. "I'm not laughing."
"Right…" Lara said, arching an eyebrow. "Keep telling yourself that."
Adrian groaned inwardly, wishing he could disappear into thin air. "Do you always have to team up against me?" he muttered.
"Only when necessary," Lara said cheerfully, winking at him.
Isla, sensing the tension, tried to steer the conversation back on track. "Anyway… the meeting. Let's get moving." She adjusted the strap of her bag and glanced down at her wrist, unconsciously playing with the protective bracelet her mother had given her.
Adrian noticed. His chest tightened. That bracelet—it looked… familiar. The intricate silverwork, the tiny engraving—it reminded him of something his father had mentioned years ago. Something about his own family's connections in this province. Something buried in the past that Adrian had never understood fully… until now.
"Is that… important to you?" he asked softly, nodding toward the bracelet.
Isla stiffened. "It's… personal."
"I can see that," he said carefully, not pressing further. "I just—" He hesitated, trying to articulate a thought that wouldn't sound too invasive. "I know how it feels to have something from the past that… matters. That holds meaning. That you don't let just anyone touch."
Her gaze softened briefly. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Exactly. Not everyone deserves to see it."
Adrian nodded, silently noting her words. He didn't understand yet why, but something about that bracelet—and the pride she wore with it—made her even more impossible to ignore.
They walked in silence for a few steps, the tension between them thick, charged, almost electric. Adrian wanted to reach out, to brush a strand of hair from her face, to do something—anything—but he restrained himself. He didn't want to scare her.
Instead, Lara broke the moment with a mischievous grin. "So, Adrian… noticed something?"
Isla shot her a glare. "Don't encourage him."
"Encourage him?" Lara's grin widened. "I'm just stating facts. He's obviously intrigued. Can't you see it?"
Isla blushed, quickly adjusting the strap of her bag again. "I don't… it's none of your business."
Adrian cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. "She's right," he said, tone sharp but not unkind. "It's… not for anyone else to judge."
Lara shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you keep being so obvious, everyone will notice. And they already have. Trust me."
Isla's protective glare softened into a small, reluctant smile. Adrian caught it, and for a moment, his chest felt like it might burst. She was warming—slowly, cautiously—but warming nonetheless.
As they neared the meeting room, Adrian's mind raced. What if she misread him? What if the bracelet truly did hold a connection he didn't understand yet? And who had left that strange feeling he had when he first saw it, like it belonged to something bigger than either of them?
They reached the meeting room, and as they entered, Adrian felt the weight of unspoken possibilities pressing down on him. He didn't know if Isla trusted him—or if she ever would—but something had shifted between them. Something had begun.
And outside, in the shadows near the provincial courtyard, someone watched, silent and calculating. The faint shuffle of feet, a glint of metal, a subtle shift in the wind—it was enough to make the air feel heavier, thicker with tension.
The storm was growing. And neither Adrian nor Isla would see it coming.