There's a rainfall warning flashing across Funneh's phone and laptop screen.
It vibrates where it sits on the edge of the table, the sudden buzz loud in the quiet dorm room. For the past few weeks, those alerts have become almost routine, grey clouds rolling in like clockwork, followed by downpours that seem to swallow the whole campus.
Heavy rains meant canceled classes and slower mornings, which, honestly, Funneh didn't mind at all.
By now, the apartment door is usually locked. It's 11 p.m., and the halls outside are silent, save for the occasional echo of footsteps from a late returner. Gold, Kyran, and Funneh, now in their second year of college have long since outgrown the reckless energy of their first year, when staying out late felt like a rule that needed breaking, just for the thrill of it.
Now, the idea of leaving the dorm at this hour makes Funneh's shoulders sink a little. Call it growing up, or maybe just running low on energy. Either way, the thought of stepping out into the cold, wet night felt more like a chore than an adventure.
Tonight, she's trying to work on her research paper. It's not due for a few weeks, but it beats lying awake, staring at the ceiling and doing nothing at all.
Still, she feels restless, and she's not exactly sure why. Maybe it's the coffee she's drinking, now gone cold, the bitter aftertaste lingering on her tongue. The mug, once warm, is cool against her palms. Or maybe it's the nature walk she took earlier, they say exercise helps, after all.
But Funneh knows why she feels like this.
She knows exactly why she's sitting at the dining table, pretending to work on her paper, even though she's barely written twenty words in the past hour. Her fingers hover over the keyboard, but most of her attention has been on her phone screen, scrolling past the same posts, refreshing again and again, waiting.
And the door isn't locked.
She knows Gold and Kyran would freak out if they knew. They'd say she was being reckless, that she was going to get herself murdered or worse. They'd throw dramatic looks and shake their heads like tired parents.
But Funneh tells herself she knows better.
She knows better than to wait. She knows better than to let her stomach twist every time she hears a sound in the hallway. She knows better than to hope for something when she hasn't even figured out what that something is.
And yet, she waits.
So when the doorknob finally twists, she's not surprised. She already knows who it is.
It's him.
The same guy she befriended back in middle school, when they were awkwardly paired up as spring dance partners and he kept stepping on her shoes. The same guy whose back she rubbed while he threw up in the dorm toilet after his first time drinking too much. The same guy who brought her soup when she had the flu and stayed until she fell asleep. The same guy who once handed her an umbrella with a teasing grin, saying it was her fault she kept getting sick from walking in the rain, like he hadn't been the one waiting outside with her.
From the dining table, her laptop screen glows against her face, most of the lights are off now. Gold and Kyran are probably asleep.
It's just her and him awake.
Funneh doesn't look directly at him, tries not to, anyway. She hadn't seen him all day. Kyran mentioned he was busy working on the thesis their professor assigned. Funneh had laughed, slipping in a joke about how surprising it was that he actually helps with group work.
He sets his shoes on the rack and shuts the door behind him.
It starts raining. Light rain, nothing heavy, but still loud enough to hear through the thin walls and windows of their college dorm.
