Umbrella
Then There's You
I never checked the weather. So whenever it rained, I always found myself waiting under the shade, until it stopped and I could go home.
Here I was that day, waiting again, at the main entrance of the university building. There was a roof overhead supported by pillars and the whole building itself resembled an old Greek infrastructure.
The rain was a lot harder this time and it didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. I sighed and you must’ve heard me because I saw you, through my periphery, holding out an umbrella to me.
“Here,” you said.
I didn’t want to take it. I didn’t want to owe you anything. “I’m okay,” I said.
“We can share,” you insisted.
It had been a week since the class project. A week since we last spoke to each other. I was hesitant. I was really fine with waiting. I was used to the rain.
But you took my hand, to my pleasant surprise, and we dove into the rain, underneath your umbrella.
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