Aug 7, 2025
Girl. He's not even looking at you.
She inches closer, not that he notices.
Maybe it's to hear him better. Maybe it's to feel the warmth of his sleeve brushing hers. Maybe it's just because the umbrella doesn't quite cover her side, & her hair's already dripping.
He keeps talking, eyes forward, voice calm. Something about vintage drawer handles.
She's not listening. Not really.
She's looking at him like he's the sun peeking through the clouds.
Yet he doesn't even realise she's getting rained on.
