There was something about the stranger, that I was sure of. I found it easy to be comfortable around him, and for someone who has ‘trust issues’, I’d consider it a feat.

“What’ll you do in town?” he asked, when we were already sitting down. For some unknown reason, we both chose the seats at the very back and I managed to get the spot nearest the window.

“I’ll buy some stuff,” I murmured.

“I see,” he replied. “What kind of stuff?”

I sighed, and said, “Ink and paper.”

“I see,” he repeated. “I’m going out to eat.”

I nodded away, not really interested on the things he was about to say. The raindrops relentlessly slid down the window pane, as if they were on a race. I watched as one drop fused with another, and another, until it became twice its size.

“For payback,” he began, which caused me to shift my eyes towards him. “Let’s eat together. My treat.”

“Payback?” I echoed. “For what?”

“This,” he answered, as he pointed at the plaster with that charming smile of his. I noticed he had dimples. “I’m afraid you can’t refuse, because I hate it when I feel indebted to someone.”

I understood where he was coming from when he said those words. I didn’t want to owe someone as well, you see. I contemplated for a bit more and replied, “Okay.”

<:>

The air was colder when we got off the bus and the bitter wind bit my nose, causing it to turn red in an instant.

“May I accompany you?” he asked, his sunny smile not wavering despite the angry slashes of rain against our already shivering bodies.

“Whatever,” I answered, before heading to the nearest stationery shop. Without a word, the stranger followed me. I guess we were too worn out to even talk, and the fact he was too absorbed in staring at the crafts and handmade scrapbooks displayed on one of the shelves hindered us from talking. It didn’t even take me ten minutes to get the things I had to buy, and so after looking around for a few more minutes, we decided to step out of the shop.

“It’s really cold,” he pointed out, while shoving his hands in his coat’s pockets. “Why not go to the café I showed you the last time?”

I looked around me, and the thought of sipping a cup of hot coffee tempted me.

“Sure,” I said, without giving it much thought. All I wanted at that time was to escape from the rain, after all. I wanted to run away from its bitterness and coldness but at the same time, I wanted to stay and watch it up close. Whenever it rained, time would seem to stop and to be honest it made me breathe a little better. The soft pitter-patter of the rain against the muddy ground and tin roofs held a distinct comfort to it, as well.

“We can share this,” he said, while pulling out a bright yellow foldable umbrella from his backpack. It beautifully clashed against the gray sky. For a moment I had this strange thought about the sun vanishing from the universe, only to transform into a young man’s foldable umbrella.

He opened it and with an inviting grin, he signaled me to come closer. He held the umbrella with his left hand, with the most part sheltering me. I glanced at him and noticed his shoulder getting damper by the second.

“Keep it,” I said, while pushing the handle to his direction. “You’re getting wet.”

“I’m okay,” he replied, as he retaliated by pushing the umbrella towards me.

“I’m okay, too,” I returned. “So don’t worry about me. Keep the umbrella all to yourself.”

The stranger laughed a little, and without any warning, he let the umbrella get blown away by the sudden gust of the wind.

“Now we’re even,” he said in a light and playful voice. “Let’s run for it, Missy.”

Before I could even reply, he held me by the hand and we stormed through the winding alleyways of the district, not stopping. I could hear his laughter despite the slapping of the rain against our clammy skin, and I realized that my hand, which he was holding, was the only warm thing I could actually feel.

<:>

We were both shivering when we arrived in the café. Our coats were soaked through. However, the smell of caffeine warmed me up a bit.

“You can dry your coat here,” he said, while removing his and placing it on top of the heater. I absorbed the details of my surroundings first before heeding his advice. The place was cylindrical in shape, with wooden walls, tables and chairs. The café was filled with various murals: from flowers to cityscapes. So far, we were the only customers present.

“Welcome to Sunflower Café!” the barista greeted. He was tall, with an array of straight and pearly white teeth. His eyes reminded me of a puppy’s, and this made him look mischievous in a way. I looked at his nametag, and figured his name was Sungyeol. “What’ll it be?”

The stranger looked at me, and asked, “What do you want?”

“I’ll have café mocha,” I answered.

“And cake?”

“Just a cinnamon roll.”

He smiled, and said, “Okay then. You can go ahead and sit.”

“But do you want anything drawn on your mocha?” the barista named Sungyeol asked.

I paused to think, and remembered that brief conversation I had with Clover back then. I asked him if he was a four-leaf clover for kicks, but he answered he’d rather be like the generic ones because that was what he was, anyway: common.

I beg to differ, though, because Clover was anything but common.

“I want a clover,” I said. “Make it have three leaves.”

“Got it,” Sungyeol replied with a grin. I said thanks before choosing a table. I ended up going to the one in the corner, which was beside the huge window pane. It didn’t take him long before he joined me.

“It’ll be ready in five minutes,” he explained.

“All right,” I replied.

He rested his chin against his palm, and asked, “Do you like corners?”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Because you chose this spot out of the many others.”

I looked at him. “Should we move, then?”

He chuckled. “I didn’t mean it to be like that. I only want to know if you like corners or not.”

“I don’t really like it,” I replied. “I don’t dislike it, either. Maybe I just got used to it.”

“I see.”

I felt like I had to reply, so I asked, “What about you?”

“I love corners.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I just do. It’s pretty comfortable, and…secluded?”

“Secluded,” I repeated, nodding away. “Interesting.”

“Indeed,” he replied in a sophisticated tone of voice, which caused me to smirk. He laughed at me, then, and remarked, “You look better with a smile on your face.”

I had no idea what got into me at that time, but I ended up looking down after feeling my face burn up all of a sudden. I wasn’t someone who could handle compliments in person, you see. Moments later, Sungyeol approached our table with a tray in his hands. The stranger ordered a cup of black coffee.

“Thanks,” we chorused, and Sungyeol smiled at us while telling us we should call him if we needed help with anything before going on his way.

I stared at his cup, and asked, “Do you like coffee?”

“I don’t,” he answered. “I hate it to the core, actually.”

“Then why’d you order that?”

“The answer’s simple: I want to taste the very thing this certain person deems as delicious.”

I cocked my head to a side. “Pardon?”

He smirked, and said, “I’ve an intriguing friend, and I simply want to experience that person’s world.”

He then started to pour several packets of sugar and creamer in his cup. He stirred, and I watched as he took a tiny sip. I had to hold back my laughter when he gagged a little. His face blatantly showed he wasn’t enjoying his beverage.

I looked at my untouched cup, and out of impulse, I called Sungyeol to exchange my order with tea, instead. Like the stranger, I guess I wanted to have a taste of Clover’s world, as well.

The tea was too sweet and creamy for me, so in the end, we exchanged cups.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t have a contagious disease or anything.”

I smirked. “Now that just made you even more suspicious.”

“Though I do have a condition, it’s not like you’ll catch it,” he replied, grinning. “You’re not sick, are you?”

I shot him a look, and he snickered in return. “Who knew those sleepy eyes could be as sharp as daggers?”

“You have a condition?” I repeated.

“It’s my immune system,” he replied, as he took a hearty sip from his tea. “For a guy—or maybe even a person in general—I’m too weak.”

“If you are, then why’d you run under the rain earlier?”

“Because I might not be able to do it again,” he answered promptly. He paused, and added as an afterthought, “I might not be able to do it again with you.”

“You talk carelessly,” I pointed out.

“You assume readily,” he returned. “But what about you? Are you weak?”

I shook my head no. “I only suffer from insomnia, and that’s about it.”

“Doesn’t that make you weak?”

“Maybe it does, but I guess I got used to it,” I answered, while stirring my coffee with a silver spoon. “I think my body got conditioned to live off of cup noodles and caffeine, as well.”

“You shouldn’t stop, though,” he murmured.

“Says the one who likes to frolic beneath the cursed rain,” I chided playfully.

He smiled as he shook his head in sheer hopelessness. “You remind me of a rainbow trapped in a snow globe.”

“How so?”

“I can’t explain it in full detail, but I think beneath that sharp and cold façade of yours, you’re a really warm person.”

There was this long silence between us, and I finally said in a tone which seemed to mimic him, “You assume readily.”

He shook his head no. “You deny too much, it’s second nature to you.”

I had no idea just how long our banter lasted, but we exited the café after taking seconds and when the rain had finally subsided. When we were in the bus stop, I noticed his complexion, turning pale by the minute.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He looked at me, and choked out a smile. “Of course,” he croaked.

I stared at him for a second longer before saying, “Suit yourself.”

Fortunately, our bus arrived.

Unfortunately, it was packed, so we had to stand up.

I guess we ran out of things to say, because we only drowned ourselves in this comfortable silence between us. He started coughing after a few minutes, and the mixed odors of heavy perfumes, damp hair and body odor didn’t help, either.

“Are you getting off in the same stop as me?” I asked, in hopes it would distract the both of us from paying too much attention to our surroundings.

“No,” he choked out, and he started to cough again.

I bit my lower lip, and focused on the blur of sceneries in front of me. When the bus was near my stop, I hurriedly removed my scarf from my neck and gave it to the stranger.

“It’ll keep you warm,” I said.

His eyes widened. “No, it’s fine, take it—”

“Return it to me next time,” I cut in. I swallowed, and added, “Hopefully.”

The corner of his warm eyes crinkled up, and he nodded. I was finally at my stop, so I pressed on the buzzer and went near the bus’s entrance. He gave me an amicable wave of goodbye, and I waved back.

I was already out of the vehicle and it had already zoomed past me when I realized I didn’t even know the stranger’s name, and why he was in the same stop as me earlier.

And like the other rare times in my life, I didn’t seem bothered by it. It felt like his name didn’t matter, because I learned more things I never expected to hear from him—from a stranger.

A familiar, familiar stranger.

@glitteryy - Hm, to be honest Clover's the first character I've strongly based off of an actual person, so knowing your thoughts about him is really interesting ^^. Albeit my characters are traces of the people I've met or maybe even bumped shoulders with, I could say that Clover's 70% of this certain person, and 30% of others. Does the bus-man intrigue you, too? I'll take that as a kind remark, then. ^^

Me? Like Thunder? I guess in some aspects, I am. I could say I'm a bit like Clover, Sunggyu and the bus-guy, too. Though I can't point out our similarities, let's just say that unlike the other characters here which are almost solid, my very being in this fic is sort of scattered all over the place xD

Hm, I do think you're not like Thunder at all. I think she's a bit cynical and stubborn in a way, and she sees things in black and white most of the time (and I find this quite ironic, because I made her become a creative writer). While you? I feel that you're warm xD

Why do you love the rain?

@kirakirashahida - Ahaha. Hold on to that thought. I actually like it when people try to figure my stories out. I think it shows that they try to notice the finest details. Heh. And this story? Warm? Intriguing. Intriguing.

Ahaha. I love the rain. I used to walk under it with my friends back home. But now, I don't like it because the rain to where I am at the moment is too cold it'll make you sick.