The rain didn't stop. If anything, it grew heavier, as if the sky had decided to pour out every last drop it had been holding back. Aarav stood there, soaked to the bone, his hoodie clinging to his shoulders like a second skin. He should have felt miserable. He should have been cursing the weather, the city, and the strange girl who had dragged him into this mess. But he didn't. Instead, he felt… alive.
Mira was still laughing, her arms outstretched as she spun in slow circles, her yellow dress swirling around her like a drenched sunflower. Aarav watched her, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone so unapologetically themselves. It was both mesmerizing and unsettling.
"You're staring," she said, stopping mid-spin to look at him. Her eyes were bright, almost mischievous, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"I'm not," Aarav replied quickly, though he knew it was a lie. He had been staring. How could he not? There was something about her—something he couldn't quite put into words.
Mira tilted her head, her smile softening. "You're overthinking again."
"I'm not—" Aarav began, but she cut him off with a laugh.
"You are. I can see it in your face. You're trying to figure me out, aren't you?"
Aarav hesitated. She wasn't wrong. He was trying to figure her out. Who was she? Why was she standing in the rain like some character from a romantic novel? And why did she seem so… free?
"Maybe," he admitted finally. "You're not exactly normal, you know."
Mira grinned. "Normal is boring. Don't you think?"
Aarav didn't answer. He wasn't sure what he thought anymore. His life had always been about following the rules, meeting expectations, and staying on track. Normal was safe. Normal was predictable. But standing here with Mira, he couldn't help but wonder if predictable was what he really wanted.
The sound of a car horn broke the moment, sharp and insistent. Aarav turned to see a taxi slowing down beside them, the driver gesturing impatiently.
"You need a ride?" the driver called out, his voice barely audible over the rain.
Aarav glanced at Mira, who shook her head. "We're good," she said, waving the driver off. The taxi sped away, its tires sending another wave of water onto the sidewalk.
"We?" Aarav raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall agreeing to anything."
Mira shrugged. "You're still here, aren't you?"
He couldn't argue with that. He was still here, standing in the rain like some lovesick fool. But for some reason, he didn't mind. Not as much as he should have, anyway.
"Where are you even going?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You can't just stand in the rain all night."
Mira's smile faltered for the first time, just for a second, before she recovered. "I don't know," she said lightly. "Wherever the rain takes me, I guess."
Aarav frowned. There was something in her tone—something she wasn't saying. But before he could press her, she turned and started walking down the street, her bare feet splashing through the puddles.
"Wait," he called after her, hurrying to catch up. "You're just going to walk? In this?"
Mira glanced over her shoulder, her smile returning. "Why not? The city looks different in the rain. Don't you think?"
Aarav didn't answer. He wasn't sure what the city looked like in the rain. He'd spent so much time trying to avoid it that he'd never really stopped to notice. But as he followed Mira down the slick pavement, he found himself looking at things he'd seen a thousand times before in a way he never had.
The streetlights cast a golden glow on the wet roads, their reflections shimmering like liquid gold. The sound of the rain was almost soothing, a steady rhythm that drowned out the usual chaos of the city. Even the air smelled different—cleaner, fresher, as if the rain had washed away the grime and noise.
Mira walked ahead of him, her steps light and unhurried. She didn't seem to have a destination in mind, but she moved with a sense of purpose, as if she knew exactly where she was going. Aarav followed, unsure why he was still there but unable to make himself leave.
"You don't talk much, do you?" Mira said after a while, glancing back at him.
"I talk," Aarav replied defensively. "When I have something to say."
Mira laughed. "Fair enough. But you're thinking a lot. I can tell."
Aarav didn't deny it. He was thinking—about her, about the rain, about the way she seemed to exist in a world entirely her own. He wanted to ask her a hundred questions, but he didn't know where to start.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked finally, his voice softer than he intended.
Mira stopped walking and turned to face him. "Doing what?"
"This," Aarav said, gesturing to the rain, the street, the city. "Standing in the rain, walking around like it's nothing. Most people would be inside, dry and warm. But you… you're out here like it's the most natural thing in the world."
Mira's expression softened, and for a moment, she looked almost vulnerable. "Maybe I just like the rain," she said quietly. "Or maybe I needed a reminder that not everything has to make sense."
Aarav didn't know what to say to that. Her words struck a chord deep within him, a chord he hadn't even realized was there. He wanted to ask her what she meant, but before he could, she turned and started walking again.
"Come on," she said over her shoulder. "There's something I want to show you."
Aarav hesitated. He should have gone home. He should have dried off, changed into something warm, and gone to bed. But instead, he followed her, his curiosity outweighing his common sense.
They walked in silence for a while, the rain falling steadily around them. Mira led him down narrow alleys and quiet streets, places Aarav had never bothered to explore. The city felt different here—quieter, more intimate, as if it had secrets it only shared with those willing to look.
Finally, they reached a small park, tucked away between two buildings. It wasn't much—just a patch of grass, a few trees, and a bench that had seen better days. But in the rain, it looked almost magical.
Mira walked over to the bench and sat down, gesturing for Aarav to join her. He hesitated for a moment before sitting beside her, the wood cold and wet beneath him.
"This is my favorite place," Mira said, her voice soft. "No one ever comes here. It's like the city forgot it existed."
Aarav looked around. The park was small and unremarkable, but there was something peaceful about it. The rain had turned the grass into a lush green carpet, and the trees swayed gently in the wind, their leaves glistening with droplets.
"Why here?" he asked, turning to look at her.
Mira smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Because it's quiet. Because it's real. And because… sometimes, it's nice to be somewhere no one else knows about."
Aarav didn't know what to say to that. He wanted to ask her more, to understand why this place meant so much to her. But before he could, she leaned her head against his shoulder, her hair damp against his skin.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?" Aarav asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"For staying," she replied. "For not walking away."
Aarav's chest tightened. He didn't know why, but her words felt like a gift—one he wasn't sure he deserved.
They sat there in silence, the rain falling around them, the city fading into the background. And for the first time in a long time, Aarav felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.