Ali woke to gray skies. Rain tapped lightly against the window, a steady rhythm that filled her small room. For a moment, she stayed under the covers, cocooned in warmth, listening to the weather. She almost thought she was alone—until she turned her head and saw Ray sitting cross-legged on his bed across the room, scrolling on his phone.
He noticed her stirring and looked up, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Morning, sleepyhead. It’s almost noon.”
Ali groaned, pulling the blanket over her face. “Don’t judge me. Rainy days are made for sleeping in.”
“Rainy days are made for coffee,” Ray said, standing. He stretched, his shirt lifting slightly, and Ali quickly looked away before her thoughts betrayed her. “I’ll make some. You want toast too?”
She peeked out from the covers, arching a brow. “Since when do you volunteer to make breakfast?”
Ray smirked. “Since I realized you look cute when you’re half-asleep. Figured I’d let you be lazy today.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she rolled her eyes to cover it. “Fine. But don’t burn it this time.”
---
The kitchen smelled like coffee and toasted bread a few minutes later. Ali padded in barefoot, hair still mussed from sleep. Ray was plating the toast with an exaggerated look of concentration.
“See? Perfect,” he announced, sliding a plate toward her.
Ali took a bite, raising a brow. “Edible. I’m impressed.”
Ray sat across from her, his own toast in hand. “Careful. If you praise me too much, I might start thinking I can cook.”
Ali laughed softly, the tension from last night easing just a little. But underneath the banter, the memory of almost-kisses and unanswered questions still lingered. She could feel it every time his eyes lingered on her, every time silence stretched a beat too long.
---
By midday, the rain hadn’t let up. Streets outside glistened, puddles forming at the curbs. Neither of them felt like going out, so they spent the afternoon indoors. They tried to play cards, but Ray cheated so blatantly that Ali gave up after three rounds. Then they watched a movie, but halfway through, Ali realized she couldn’t remember a single detail of the plot—she was too aware of the way Ray’s arm rested along the back of the couch, the way his thigh brushed against hers.
At one point, lightning flashed outside, followed by a low rumble of thunder. Ali flinched, more from the tension in her chest than the storm itself. Ray glanced down at her, his expression softening.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said quickly. “Just… storms make me restless.”
Without a word, Ray shifted closer, his arm brushing against her shoulder until she leaned into him. The warmth of his body grounded her, steady and calm against the restless storm outside.
For a while, they just sat like that, the sound of rain and thunder filling the silence.
---
Later, when the rain eased to a drizzle, Ray stood by the window, looking out at the wet street. Ali leaned against the doorframe, watching him. His profile was sharp in the dim light, his posture thoughtful.
“You look like you’re brooding,” she teased lightly.
He turned, a small smile breaking his serious expression. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
Ray hesitated. His eyes flicked to her, then away. “About how fast this week is going. About how, in a few days, I’m supposed to leave.”
Ali’s stomach sank. She knew the thought had been hovering over both of them, unspoken. Hearing it aloud made it heavier.
She forced a shrug, though her throat was tight. “We’ll still have calls. Messages. It won’t be that different.”
Ray stepped closer, his gaze steady. “It’s already different, Ali.”
Her breath caught. He was too close now, close enough that she could see the storm of emotions in his eyes. “Ray…”
“You know it too,” he said softly. “This—whatever this is between us—it’s not the same as before. It can’t be.”
Ali swallowed hard, her chest tightening. “We said we wouldn’t—”
“I know what we said,” he interrupted gently. His hand lifted like he wanted to touch her, then hesitated in the air. “But I can’t pretend anymore. Not when you’re right here.”
Her pulse thundered in her ears. She wanted to look away, to retreat into the safety of denial, but her body betrayed her, frozen under his gaze.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Ray whispered. “Tell me you don’t feel it too, and I’ll stop.”
Ali opened her mouth, but the words tangled in her throat. Because he wasn’t wrong. She felt it in every glance, every brush of his hand, every breathless second of silence between them.
Her lips parted, trembling. “Ray… I—”
But before she could finish, the power flickered with the storm, plunging the room into near-darkness. Ali gasped, startled, and in that heartbeat of disarray, Ray closed the distance.
His lips pressed against hers—gentle at first, hesitant, as if waiting for her to pull away. But Ali didn’t. She melted into him, her hands clutching his shirt, years of restraint unraveling in an instant.
The kiss deepened, desperate and unsteady, filled with everything they’d held back. When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Ali’s forehead rested against his, her heart racing so fast she thought it might burst.
“God,” she whispered, her voice shaking, “what did we just do?”
Ray’s hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “What we should’ve done a long time ago.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. “But what happens when you leave?”
Ray pressed another soft kiss to her lips, lingering. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t care how messy it is. I’m not letting this go. Not after this.”
Ali closed her eyes, a single tear slipping free. For the first time since he arrived, the fear of losing him wasn’t bigger than the joy of having him.
She whispered against his lips, “Me neither.”
The rest of the evening blurred into softness—laughter through tears, whispered confessions, quiet touches. They didn’t rush, didn’t try to make up for lost time all at once. Instead, they let themselves be wrapped up in the simple miracle of finally being together.
