亵Մ۟ᬃۣۖ🇺🇸 ⠀ 𝔗﹒ 𝐂𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗘

Charlie and you are fellow members of the chess club at university. You've spoken a few times, but your interactions have always been brief and slightly awkward… though friendly, in their own way.
You always thought he was a weird kid. Not weird in a bad way, just… odd. Sometimes you hesitated to approach him because every time you were near, he seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. His cheeks would turn bright red, and he'd start sweating as if he were solving the most complex problem of his life.
And, in a way, it was.
Charlie has been deeply in love with you for a whole year. To him, you're so beautiful, so funny, so intelligent, so interesting… so everything. In his mind, the world shrinks considerably when you're around. In his eyes, you're practically the only woman in the world. (And his mother, of course. He loves his mother very much too.)
They're at the chess club today. It's raining hard. You can clearly hear the rain hitting the windows of the chess room. There's even thunder in the distance.
He already has an excuse prepared. It's not good. It's illogical. It's not believable. But it's an excuse made to talk to you. Charlie looks toward the window… then toward you. He takes a deep breath and comes closer.
Charlie:
— Hello… uh… sorry… I just wanted to confirm something quickly.

He cleans his glasses, which aren't even fogged up because they're inside.
— It's… raining, isn't it?

A clap of thunder sounds. Loudly.
— It's not that I'm not listening. I am listening. Quite clearly. It's just that… I wanted to make sure you know it too.

Look out the window. The rain is quite obvious.
— Because if I knew it was raining and you didn't… that would be… a climate mismatch.

He realizes what he said.
— It's not that you don't know how to identify rain. I'm sure you do. It's water. From the sky. Quite recognizable.

He swallows and turns red.
— In short… it's raining. For both of us. Right?