The storm had not yet subsided when Mark stepped into the quiet of his house, his shoes squelching softly against the wet floors. The rain outside had been relentless all evening, hammering against the windows like an angry sea. Yet, inside, there was an unsettling stillness that matched the storm brewing within him.
He barely noticed the sound of his wet clothes dripping onto the floor. His thoughts were miles away, replaying the afternoon, the rain-soaked moment at the bus stop, and her eyes—those deep blue eyes that had locked onto his with such intensity. For a brief instant, it felt like time had stood still. As the memory played in his mind, his heart ached in a way that was both strange and exhilarating. It had only been a few minutes, but those moments had felt like a whole lifetime.
He shook himself out of the reverie, but the image of her—the way she looked at him, the way her drenched hair clung to her face, the soft laugh she'd shared with her friends—refused to leave him. It was as if a part of her had stayed with him, lodged deep in his chest where he couldn't get rid of it, and he didn't want to.
Mark walked through the house, his eyes trailing over the familiar, unchanged walls, but everything seemed quieter, somehow distant. It was as if he'd been transported to another world, one where everything he knew had suddenly become secondary to the feeling she had awakened in him.
Mark let out a long sigh, the quiet stretching on around him, heavy and thick like the air before a thunderstorm. He almost convinced himself that he was being foolish. That he had created something in his mind that wasn't there. But then, as if on cue, the phone buzzed in his hand.
His heart skipped a beat.
He glanced down at the screen. It was her number.
For a moment, Mark was frozen. His fingers twitched against the screen, unsure of whether to answer, unsure of whether he was even ready for what this could mean. But as the seconds ticked by, his uncertainty melted away, replaced by a surge of warmth. He could hear his pulse in his ears as he swiped the screen and brought the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" His voice was a little rough, the words tumbling out too quickly, but his excitement—his anticipation—was too overwhelming to hide.
Her voice came through the phone, soft and gentle, almost like a melody. "Hi, Mark. It's me."
Hearing her voice made his chest tighten, the feeling growing stronger, something between hope and disbelief. Her words hung in the air, uncertain, but laced with warmth.
He couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. He leaned back against the bed, his fingers tightening around the phone. "Hey," he said, his voice steady now, but still filled with a quiet energy. "How are you? I mean, after today... after the rain, I hope you're doing okay."
There was a brief pause. Mark could hear the faint sound of rustling on the other end of the line—she was probably moving around, trying to find the right words. But then she spoke, her voice soft but clear.
"Yeah, I'm good," she said. "Just... just thinking about everything that happened. You know, the rain... it's like it made everything feel so intense, like it was too much. But now, I'm just... kind of trying to process it all."
Mark's heart thudded in his chest as he leaned forward. He wanted to say so much, but the words felt too heavy. He didn't want to overwhelm her with how much he felt, but he also didn't want to pretend it wasn't there. "I get it," he said softly. "It was... a lot. But, I don't know, in a way, it felt kind of... perfect, don't you think? Like the rain, the way we met. I don't know how to explain it, but I've been thinking about it... about you."
He could hear her breath catch, and for a split second, he wondered if he had said too much. But then, her voice came back, more hesitant now, yet still warm.
"I've been thinking about you too, Mark," she admitted, her words shy but sincere. "I just... I don't know. I feel like we shared something, even in those few minutes. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."
The weight of her confession settled in his chest, filling him with something that was both comforting and exhilarating. He hadn't expected this, not at all. Not after such a short meeting. But here she was, talking to him like they had known each other for years. It felt so natural, so right.
There was a long, lingering pause. Mark let the silence stretch, relishing the closeness between them, even through the phone. Finally, she broke it.
"I was wondering," she began, almost hesitantly, "if maybe... if you'd like to meet me tomorrow? At a café? I was thinking... I don't know, maybe we could talk more. It feels like we have so much more to say."
Her words landed in the air between them like a soft promise. Mark's heart skipped at the thought of seeing her again. His mind raced, scrambling for the right words to say, but nothing could capture the whirlwind of emotions swirling in him.
"Of course," he said without hesitation, his voice suddenly sure, strong. "I'd love to. I really would."
The relief in her voice was instant. Mark could almost feel her smile from across the phone. "I'm glad," she said softly. "Really. I'm looking forward to it."
"I'm looking forward to it too," Mark said, the words spilling out before he even fully realized. "I... I've been wanting to see you again since earlier. I didn't want it to end the way it did. I don't know what this is, but I'm really glad we're doing this."
Her voice dropped even softer now, as if she were wrapping her words in something tender, something fragile. "It's a date then. Tomorrow. It'll be... something to look forward to." she said quitly expecting him to not hear, but he did.
A date.
Mark's heart raced. The word felt like it had a weight of its own, like it held the promise of something deeper than just a simple meeting. It was something real, something he had never expected but now couldn't wait for.
There was a brief silence, but this time, it wasn't awkward. It was filled with the excitement of something new, something tentative, but full of possibility.
"Tomorrow then," she said, the smile evident in her voice.
"Tomorrow," Mark repeated, his voice quieter, filled with an emotional depth he hadn't expected. "I'll be there."
"Okay," she whispered, almost as if she were letting the words sink in. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Mark sat there for a moment after the call ended, holding the phone in his hand. His heart was still racing. Tomorrow. He could hardly believe it. Tomorrow wasn't just another day. Tomorrow was a promise—a promise that he couldn't wait to keep.
****
A/N: how will the date go?
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