The rain shows no sign of stopping. The surroundings were pitch-black, and nearby stores had closed earlier than scheduled. The once-bright streetlights blurred into faint visibility. The smell of wet concrete replaced the usual smell of food trucks.
Surithae did not know how long she had been crouched in the corner of the back alley. She lost her perception of time the moment she stepped off the bus. The rain drenched all her senses.
Her once-pressed clothing, soaked through, the fabric both heavy and cold, clung to her like a second skin. One heel gone, her bare foot stood against the wet pavement, small red scratches and lines of dirt visible on her pale white skin.
She retreated into a narrow corner, crouched low, her back pressed against a dilapidated wall, knees pulled close to her chest. And in her arms, a kitten.
Small. Dirty. Trembling. Pitiful.
Its fur is damp and tangled. Its tiny body shivering from the cold air. The poor kitten huddled in the protection of Surithae's arms. She noticed earlier that one of its paws was lifted awkwardly, as if injured, adding to its already miserable state.
"It's alright," Surithae murmured softly. Uncertain whether the words were meant for herself or the kitten. But one thing is for sure, they were no different from each other.
The cat shifted weakly in her arms, letting out another thin cry. She felt her chest tighten.
"Are you hungry? Me too," she whispered to the cat.
She had no umbrella; her phone's battery was long drained. No one to call to. No plan.
All alone.
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One street away, Kritsada walked briskly under a familiar black umbrella. The same umbrella he was given on campus a few weeks ago. That one he had cleaned carefully, folded neatly, and kept safe with him for reasons he could never tell.
Rain fell heavily against the umbrella above him, but he barely noticed. Kritsada was in a hurry to go. He wants to go and see someone.
His work had ended late today. Coupled with the sudden downpour, it made him late for his daily appointment.
As he turned toward the next intersection, heading to the back alley near his university, something made him slow his steps. He saw a shadow of a dark figure on the wet concrete ground. He was conflicted about taking a step closer when, all of a sudden, he heard a soft whimper, followed by a weak, desperate mewl.
Kritsada wasted no more time; he rushed towards the source. There, a crouched small figure rested. Head bowed down and knees put together, he saw movement.
The crouched figure heard the series of footsteps that splashed through the rain puddles. Its first instinct was caution, but when a passing headlight flashed their location, the world was illuminated. The figure slowly lifted its head and faced the approaching stranger head-on.
Long brown hair – soaked and curled into soft waves around a pale face. A small, slender figure huddled protectively around something small in her arms. Her clothes were soaked to the core, and Kritsada felt uncomfortable with the thought of the coldness it brought.
His breath caught in the moment.
'Thira'
He was shocked, barely comprehending the moment.
"Thira…?" he asked softly, afraid to scare someone precious. He then stepped closer; one knee already knelt against the cold pavement.
The cat, hearing a familiar voice, let out a soft, weak whimper. It pressed itself tighter to Surithae's chest. Surithae, aware of the unfamiliar yet familiar stranger, tightened her grip on the kitten. She mistakenly thought the kitten was afraid of the stranger.
"Excuse me, you're going to scare it," she said in a light voice, her voice strained due to the cold.
Kritsada paused immediately, feeling helpless.
"I—sorry. I didn't mean to scare Bean." with his rasped voice.
'Bean?'
Surithae studied the person in front of her. His wet shoes laced with streaks of dirt, patches of wetness on the trousers' hem. Dust was clinging to his polo shirt, adding to his messy look.
Surithae's gaze flickered in recognition. That familiar umbrella. That familiar face. Her expression shifted, laced with curiosity in those reddened eyes.
"You"
"Ah—m, we… met before. In the campus." Kritsada almost swallowed a reply.
"I remember." She said ever so softly.
Silence stretched between them. The sound of rain pitter-pattering filled the dim surroundings. The short period of silence was broken by the kitten's whimpers. Kritsada reacted without thinking. He stepped forward and angled the umbrella to cover them both. Rain immediately soaked his shoulders.
Surithae blinked her eyes directly at Kritsada. Confused by his gentlemanly actions towards her.
"Your shoulders are getting wet by the rain," she said.
"Don't worry."
"I'm not," she replied, eyes with defiance.
Kritsada mustered a small, amused smile. He did not argue with her.
The cat shifted again, clearly uncomfortable because of hunger and cold.
"Is Bean hurt?" Kritsada glanced down at the pitiful creature.
"I think so. It's been crying for a while." Surithae replied softly. Her tone changed when she spoke to the cat as if lulling the creature to sleep.
Kritsada crouched further, careful not to startle either of the two.
"I've been feeding Bean around here. I was in a rush to get here because of the sudden rain, but I'm still late," he said
"You feed strays?"
"When I can," he nodded at her.
Something unreadable flickered across Surithae's eyes. She has this growing curiosity towards the man before her.
"Ah—m, do you want to find shelter, somewhere dry?" Kritsada asked, embarrassed by his question. It felt as if he was luring her into a trap. His cheeks burned, and he quickly looked away, hoping the dim surroundings could hide the blush creeping before Thira could notice.
"Okay." She replied without hesitation.
Kritsada glanced at Thira's defenseless figure. He felt ecstatic and annoyed at her response at the same time. Ecstatic that she trusts him enough to go with him without question asked, and annoyed by the thought bugs him at the back of his mind.
'Will she go with another person if it were not me?'
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Thira struggling to stand up with the kitten still clutched in her arms. He noticed the missing right heel. The young woman looks so vulnerable.
Kritsada snatched Thira's hands, gently handing her the umbrella. He crouched down and untied his shoes. He gently lifted Thira's foot and slipped his shoe onto it. He made sure Thira wore the pair.
Thira astonishedly saw the man pick up what remained on her footwear with his one hand. He stood up and reached for the umbrella in his other hand.
Together, they stepped fully into the open. Kritsada adjusted the umbrella to fully cover Thira without a care for himself. He led Thira carefully, each step fearing she might stumble on his shoes.
Surithae noticed everything. But she never said anything.
Their silhouettes slowly disappeared as they walked into the distance.
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Surithae scanned her gaze inside the man's place. It was a dormitory. Small. Clean. Sparse. It was exactly as she imagined. Kritsada closed the door behind them. Surithae stood awkwardly near the entryway, water pooling at her spot from her dripping clothes.
"You can use the bathroom first. I have unused towels available." Kritsada said while he gently took the kitten from Surithae's arms.
"The bathroom is the first door on your right," he added.
"I—I'll find you something suitable to wear. And get something for you to eat, bet the two of you are hungry."
Surithae hesitated at first but eventually nodded.
Inside the bathroom, Surithae carefully cleaned herself. Water cascaded down her body from head to toe. The smell of the foreign body wash felt comforting. It smells clearly of him. She washed off the remaining bubbles from her body before her thoughts could drift any further.
By the time she stepped out of the bathroom, her blow-dried hair fell into loose, softened, big waves over her shoulders.
Kritsada raised his head from drying the drenched kitten when he felt someone come close.
'She looks so small and cute in my clothes,' he thought.
Surithae stood before Kritsada, relaxed.
"I'm done."
"Ah – yes, I'll clean myself up first, and I'll prepare your food right away. You can sit over here and help feed the cat. If you like," he said while his movements rushed as if frantic.
Surithae leaned over him to pick up the kitten in her arms. Kritsada could smell the familiar scent of his body wash when Surithae stood inches away from him. He was stunned.
'She smells like me.' He felt an unfamiliar sense of possessiveness stir within him.
Before things could go any further, Kritsada hurriedly left the scene. She failed to notice the man's strange behavior.
Surithae found comfort in the small kitten. She felt calm sitting on the couch. The warm atmosphere surrounded her; it almost lulled her to sleep.
Kritsada returned to the scene after a short time. He went inside the kitchen, searching for food in the refrigerator.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked, glancing over his broad shoulders.
Surithae fixed her gaze on the man. She slightly tilted her head to the side as if considering her answers.
"Blueberries," she said softly.
"Blueberries with a pinch of salt," she added.
Kritsada froze. Stunned by her answer, he then turned slowly.
"… Blueberries?"
Surithae blushed hard on her cheeks, her eyes wide as if tears were about to appear. She didn't know why she felt embarrassed for no reason.
"Is that weird?" she asked, voice fading.
"No – No, no. I didn't mean anything. I was just surprised it was just specific," he quickly replied, afraid of causing a misunderstanding.
"I like them." Kritsada heard her softly say.
He stared at her for a moment before grabbing a small container from the fridge. He usually doesn't have these in his fridge; however, last time her sister sent some to him. Thankfully, the fruit didn't spoil.
He washed the fruits in the sink and placed them in a small bowl. He then sprinkled an ample amount of salt on top. He added a fork to the bowl and grabbed a glass of water.
He heard her mutter a small thanks as he handed her the small bowl.
"This will not make you full. I'll prepare a small dish for us to eat," he said
Kritsada watched her from the kitchen while he was making a quick, warm dish.
He couldn't believe that the cold, distant, and untouchable young woman on campus was now sitting barefoot on his couch, wearing his clothes, hair soft and wavy, quietly munching her bowl of blueberries.
The two of them in a room – scratched that, the three of them in a room. Cozy and Warm.
Everything felt domestic.