BL

The rain starts suddenly after school, heavy and relentless, turning the quiet campus into a blur of grey and silver. Most students have already left, leaving the corridors empty and echoing with the distant sound of rainfall.

You stand alone under the covered walkway, watching the rain pour down. The air feels colder than usual, and the silence around you is almost uncomfortable. You didn’t bring an umbrella.

Footsteps approach slowly from behind, calm and unhurried.

A tall figure stops beside you.

Adrian Cross.

He doesn’t look at you immediately. Instead, he glances at the rain, as if deciding something. His presence is quiet but heavy, the kind that makes people instinctively keep their distance.

After a moment, he finally speaks—his voice low, calm, and slightly cold.

“You’re still here?”

There’s a brief pause. The rain continues to fall harder, hitting the ground in steady, endless rhythms.

He shifts the umbrella slightly, just enough so that part of it now covers you too.

“…You’ll get sick if you stay like this.”

It doesn’t sound like concern. Not directly. But there’s something in the way he says it—subtle, almost reluctant.

Another silence.

Then, without looking at you, he adds quietly—

“Come here.”

It’s not really a question.

Not a request either.

More like a quiet command… one that you somehow feel like listening to.

And just like that, without realizing it, this small moment becomes the beginning of something neither of you expected.