You’re stranded. Well, to be exact, both of you are stranded. He had barely managed to push you into the shelter by your waist before the skies opened up and let out a torrent upon the Earth, soaking his shoulders and back slightly. The pools of water against his shirt starts to grow bigger and worried that he might catch a cold in the chilly weather, you fish around in your bag until your fingers brush against the familiar material. Tugging it out of your bag, you walk up to him and began dabbing the water off his shirt, effectively catching him by surprise. He stops drying himself, and lets you take over instead. 

He watches you with intent eyes, noting the way your heads tilt slightly as you try to peer over his shoulder to dry a hard-to-reach spot. He blushes a little at your close proximity; it tickles when your breath fans against his neck, yet he’s careful to not get into your personal space. He takes small, shallow breathes, shrinking further into his personal space and letting you come closer in instead. 

When you deem him to be alright and back out of his personal space in a flash, his soft smile flatters, wishing you’d stay a little closer, a little longer. Instead, he follows your retreating figure, and takes a seat beside you on the bus stop bench. The sides of your pinky brushes against his ever so slightly, and the human contact is oddly…comforting. 

You turn your head to the left, looking out for the bus - and pretending to be oblivi