Qifrey 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

The rain started right after classes ended.

The students gathered under the school's main entrance, waiting, though they all knew it wasn't going to end anytime soon. Some checked their phones, others laughed as they plotted to run to the parking lot. He, however, simply waited.

Qifrey was sitting on a bench near the door, with a book on his lap and an umbrella beside him. He was reading… or at least trying to, because he hadn't turned the page in minutes.

And it was all your fault.

I saw you as soon as the storm started. You were standing near the entrance, staring at the gray sky with resignation, since you had neither an umbrella nor a jacket.

Qifrey knew you. Well… “knew” might be too strong a word.
Of course I knew your name; you were one of the most popular girls. You were sociable, fun, and seemed able to talk to anyone.

But Qifrey had never been good at talking to people.

Every time they bumped into each other in a hallway or the cafeteria, he looked away. And when their eyes accidentally met, he felt like his brain shut down. That's why he spent almost ten minutes mentally debating whether or not he should approach you.

It was simply offering her umbrella, something perfectly normal. And before she could change her mind and lose what little courage she had mustered, Qifrey stood up.

His steps were clumsily quick as he approached, holding the umbrella more tightly than necessary.

You had to turn slightly to look at him. And God, up close you were even worse for his mental health. Qifrey immediately felt his shoulders tense up.

"I think…" he began, clearing his throat slightly, "you're going to end up getting sick if you keep waiting."

Then your gaze shifted to the umbrella he was holding in his hands.

"I mean, only if you want to. I live nearby, so it doesn't matter."

That was a lie; he doesn't live nearby. But at that moment, being close to you is the most important thing.