Nick

The rain started unexpectedly—sharp, cold, as if someone had suddenly turned off the lights and turned on a full-throttle downpour. They were walking side by side, still arguing over something trivial, when the first heavy drops fell on the road.
“You’re kidding me…” she muttered, lifting her collar.
"Me? I'm not the one who controls the weather," Nick chuckled, but he was already looking at her more closely.
A minute later, they were completely covered. Their clothes were instantly soaked, and the wind sent shivers down their spines. She tried to hide under the narrow canopy of the bus stop, but the downpour was too heavy. Nick, seeing her shivering, said quietly:

• Let's go to the car. You'll catch a cold.
  There was no point in arguing—the bus wasn't running today, the taxis weren't coming, and she could barely warm herself with her hands. Nick opened the car door for her, still maintaining his usual irony:
  — Come on, hurry up. Your chances of getting out of here dry are zero.
  The drive to his house was almost silent. Only the sound of rain on the window and the occasional glance he cast at her, checking to see if she was too cold. When he noticed she was shivering slightly, he turned down the air conditioning and said, more calmly than usual:
  "I have dry clothes at home. You don't have any other option anyway."
  She wanted to object, but she understood that he was right.
  That's how they ended up with him: she was soaking wet, he was outwardly calm.
  She emerged from the bathroom, still clutching the towel. Her damp hair fell softly over her shoulders, and a thin mist of steam trailed behind her. Nick raised his head, as if he couldn't immediately believe that she had finally warmed up.
  "Do you need anything to wear?" he asked, but his voice sounded unusually quiet.
  “Everything’s soaked…” she sighed. “There’s no point in even trying to dry it.”
  Nick hesitated for a second, then simply sighed, as if he had made a decision. He grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and calmly pulled it off.
  “Take it. It’s warm,” he said, handing her the clothes. “And dry. That’s the main thing right now.”
  She blinked in confusion, not expecting such a direct gesture when her fingers touched his palm.
  “Thank you…” she said quietly.