chapter 2: the warmth between the rain

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It’s funny how something so random could suddenly become a routine.
After that first day, I found myself going back to the same coffee shop — same table by the window, same order, same playlist of old songs playing in the background.

At first, I told myself it was just habit.
But deep down, I knew I was hoping to see him again.

And then one afternoon, he walked in. Same hoodie, same tired smile, same soft energy that somehow made the world feel lighter.

“Hey,” he said, his voice calm and familiar.
“You again,” I said, trying not to sound too happy.

He sat across me, the same spot as before. “You mind if I—”
I cut him off, smiling. “You don’t even have to ask anymore.”

He laughed — that kind of laugh that sounds like home, warm and effortless.
And just like that, silence filled the space between us again. But this time, it wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful.

---

We started talking more after that.
About music, art, books — and the little things that people usually forget to notice.
He told me he plays in small bars sometimes, and I told him how I write random poems I never finish.

“Then maybe we’re the same,” he said once, while stirring his coffee. “We both create things we’re too afraid to show.”

I didn’t know what to say. But in that moment, I realized how rare it was to be understood without even explaining yourself.

That night, we walked home together under the same umbrella.
The rain wasn’t heavy, just soft enough to make everything quiet.
He was humming a tune I didn’t recognize.

“Is that one of your songs?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s about time.”

“Time?”
“Mm. How it never really waits. How sometimes, you meet people you’re supposed to love — but you’re just too early… or too late.”

I looked at him. His eyes were calm, but there was something behind them — something tired, something sad.
And for a split second, I wondered who hurt him enough to make him say that.

---

When we reached my street, he stopped walking.
“This is me,” I said softly.
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Goodnight,” he said.
“Goodnight,” I replied, but my heart whispered, please don’t go yet.

He turned to leave, and I stood there, watching as he disappeared into the dim light of the street.
And that was the moment I realized —
some people arrive in your life quietly, but leave a sound that never fades.

---

💭 If only time stayed still that night… maybe he wouldn’t have walked away so soon

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 16 ⏰

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