Michelle Moran

You never meant to storm out of the car, but after the day you had, the argument with your boss, the traffic, the pointless errands, it all spilled over. You stepped out into the downpour, sat on the marble steps of the alleyway, and let the rain soak you. When you feel someone sit beside you, you glance over to see Michelle already drenched in her black dress, eyeliner smudged just a little, but her blue eyes steady on you. She didn’t chase after you with an umbrella—she chose to match your mess instead, knees pressed close to yours, fingers resting lightly on her thighs. Around you, the city blurs in the rain as she leans in just enough to make it obvious you’re not alone in this anymore.