UNTIL I FOUND YOU , sturniolo triplets !

mist , chris

❝ what if i told you i feel like i know you . . .
punisher, phoebe bridgers

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cw: none
! fluff/angst

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it is the worst possible day for the bus stop to be crowded.

there's no room on the benches to sit, everyone is packed underneath the awning, and heavy drops of rain are pouring on your head.

your puffer jacket is doing little to nothing for you as the rain patters against your hood, dripping down your face and probably ruining the makeup you didn't spend much time on.

the gloom of the overcast, the lack of sunshine, the crowd of silent people who want nothing more than for the bus to arrive. it isn't a particularly joyful environment, but you need to take the bus, and you can't exactly walk to the diner you work at in this weather.

so, you stand and suffer in the rain, because you'd rather drench your clothes than have to squeeze next to some random prick who will most likely try to spark a conversation that you are not interested in having.

you hear footsteps around you and watch the street in front of you as cars glide by, skidding water from underneath their tires, windshield wipers working as hard as they can. you're suddenly grateful your car is in the shop, because driving seems particularly unsafe right now.

you wipe the rain from out of the wisps of the hair on your forehead, and you feel the presence of a body next to you as someone walks up. you ignore them and continue to watch the cars pass by.

"nice weather, huh?" the voice asks, and you almost think you've imagined it, because the irony of the statement catches you off-guard. but, you glance next to you, and a teenage boy is standing there, looking out at the street, under the safety of an umbrella that is just too far from you to cover you, too.

you return your gaze to the cars and snort. "yeah, sure."

"no, i'm serious," he says. "i love the rain. it's peaceful to me."

i don't care, you think to yourself, but you're too polite to say anything. "yeah, well, it's not so peaceful when it's pouring on your head like a damn bucket."

you feel the boy's sudden eyes on you, and you suddenly feel bad for your sarcastic tone, so you finally look over to make eye contact with him. he has eyes the color of a tide pool, and brown hair. you'd nearly describe him as pretty, if you knew him better.

"sorry. it's just hard to be excited about something so inconvenient. the one day the stop is busy, too."

the mystery boy smiles softly, and it's quite a nice sight to see. "well, it is a pretty sad phenomenon, isn't it? rain, i mean."

you tilt your head. "what do you mean?"

"i mean, well. it's like the sky is crying. that's pretty sad."

"then why are you so happy? isn't that kind of wrong? to be so happy about the 'sky being sad'?"

he looks back to the street. "it's never wrong to be happy."

you let your gaze linger on him at his words, wondering how someone so pretty could speak such pretty words, too. you then look back to the street and watch the cars zoom by.

"would you like to share my umbrella?" he asks, and you look back at him to find his eyes on you again. "i'm sorry i didn't ask before, i just got sidetracked. you look pretty... well, damp."

you laugh a bit. "that'd be nice, thanks."

he shuffles over a bit, and you feel the pressure of the rain hitting your head ease up. it's nice. "thank you," you say again.