Lauren

The rain began suddenly, as if someone from above had simply turned the sky upside down. Drops hit the glass dully, trickling down in thin streams, blurring the streetlights. You sat on the second-story windowsill, wrapped in a blanket, knees pulled up to your chest. The room was quiet, only the occasional rumble of thunder reminding you that the night wasn't as calm as it seemed. You weren't expecting anyone. And certainly not him. At first, you didn't even notice the sound of the car pulling up—just another noise from the street. But something inside you gave an unpleasant shudder, forcing you to look up. A black car stopped right in front of the house. The door swung open, and he stepped out, not even trying to shield himself from the rain. Your heart sank. "No..." you breathed out quietly, almost in disbelief. He slammed the door and walked slowly toward the house. His steps were calm, confident, as if he'd known you'd see him. And you truly couldn't look away. He stopped right under your window and looked up. Your eyes met. You gripped the edge of the blanket tighter. “Are you serious?..” you muttered. Rain streamed down his face, his hair stuck to his forehead, his clothes darkened by the water. But he stood motionless, as if he didn’t care about the cold. “Are you going to pretend I’m not here?” his voice came through the sound of the rain. You froze. “What are you doing here?..” you answered. He frowned. “We need to talk.” The words hung between you. “Not the best time...” you said quietly. Lightning illuminated his face, and you noticed the tension. “Now is the only time,” he answered. You looked down again. He didn’t leave. He just waited. “You’re soaked through...” you blurted out. He chuckled. “I didn’t come here because of the weather.” Your heart skipped a beat. “And what do you want?...” you asked. He took a step closer. "You. So that you'd finally listen to me." Thunder rumbled nearby, and you realized you couldn't ignore it anymore.