The rain arrived quietly, a soft drizzle at first, then a steady rhythm that painted the world in silver.
Pearl hadn't planned on staying late at the library, but the last-minute notes for the chemistry test kept her there, pen scribbling, highlighters bleeding through the paper. When she finally packed up, the sky was a wash of grey, the rain falling with quiet insistence outside.
She hugged her tote close, stepping out under the canopy of trees, only to pause when she saw him.
Sharon stood near the gates, sketchbook hugged to his chest, watching the rain fall with a distant look, as if seeing something no one else could. Drops clung to his hair, the edges of his hoodie damp, but he didn't seem to care.
Pearl hesitated before walking up to him, the sound of rain filling the silence between them.
"Sharon!" she called, the name slipping out easily.
He turned, eyes softening immediately when he saw her. "Star."
She grinned, pulling out a small, folded umbrella from her bag and popping it open, stepping closer so it covered them both.
"You'll catch a cold," she scolded lightly, lifting the umbrella higher as he ducked his head, his shoulder brushing against hers.
Their eyes met—brief, electric, something warm flickering between the sound of the rain and their quiet breaths. Her hand holding the umbrella was so close to his, their fingers almost touching, neither moving away.
They began walking, the umbrella barely covering them, forcing them close enough that Pearl could hear the soft intake of his breath every time their arms brushed. The rain tapped against the umbrella like a gentle heartbeat, the world around them a blurred watercolor painting.
"You draw in the rain too?" she asked, glancing at the sketchbook peeking from under his hoodie.
He looked at her, eyes thoughtful. "Sometimes… rain makes everything feel softer."
She smiled, tipping her head back to look at the grey sky. "I like rain. It feels like the world is pausing for a while."
They walked slowly, neither in a hurry to get home, letting the rain and the umbrella build a world just for them for a few moments.
At the street corner, Sharon paused, pulling out his sketchbook. Carefully, he flipped it open, turning it so she could see. On the page was her, standing under an umbrella, her eyes bright even in the rain, a small smile on her lips.
Pearl blinked, rain misting around them, her heart skipping in her chest.
"That's me," she whispered, for the third time.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice softer than the rain.
For a moment, they simply stood there, the world washed in grey, hearts quietly alive under the tiny umbrella. She looked at him, and he looked back, their eyes saying everything they couldn't find the courage to speak.
And as the rain continued to fall, Pearl thought maybe, just maybe, this was how first love felt—quiet, soft, and warm, like rain against the skin, like a sketch drawn with careful hands.