Giovanni had woken up early, earlier than usual. He didn't want to see her—not because he didn't want to, but because just looking at her did things to him that he couldn't quite name.
His heart beat faster as the door clicked shut behind him. His gaze drifted toward her door, even though he told himself not to look.
His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag. They relaxed, then clenched again. It was involuntary, this strange rhythm of tension in his body.
He exhaled then turned on his heel. His footsteps felt too loud now, too defined as he walked away.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur—lectures, tests, the constant hum of medical school's pressure.
He tried not to think of Salomé, but it wasn't long before her name, her laugh, slipped into his thoughts like an unwanted visitor.
He found himself zoning out in class, his eyes wandering as if searching for something—or someone—who wasn't there.
Salomé returned from school, expecting the usual—Giovanni hunched over his laptop, headphones in, or casually scrolling through his phone, his usual distant focus unbroken by her entrance.
But the house was empty.
She paused at the door, the sound of her keys dropping into the bowl on the entryway table louder than it should've been.
She glanced around, half-expecting him to walk through the hallway at any moment. But there was no sign of him. No faint hum from his phone, no rustling of papers, no muffled murmurs of a podcast he might've been listening to.
It was almost unnerving.
She checked the clock on the wall. Past six. That's strange, she thought.
Giovanni was always home before her. Always.
Shrugging it off, she went about her routine—freshening up, changing into something comfortable and ended up taking a nap, the soft weight of the afternoon lulling her into sleep.
When she woke, it was well past nine.
Her first instinct was to go straight to the living room. Maybe he'd come home by now. Maybe he'd be there, doing what he always did: existing in the background of her world.
But still no Giovanni.
The apartment felt more like a hollow echo of what it usually was, and for some reason, she couldn't shake the sense of unease creeping up her spine.
Her fingers hovered over her phone. Should I call him?
Her thumb scrolled through her contacts list, before stopping abruptly.
She didn't have his number.
A mocking laugh left her lips. She didn't have the number of the guy she'd started to like.
She sank onto the couch, her hands resting on her knees. She began to shake her leg nervously, the movement almost frantic.
A flash of lightning split the sky, the sound of thunder roaring immediately after. It had come out of nowhere, and soon, rain began pouring down like sheets.
Oh shit.
Her eyes moved quickly to the small shelf by the main door. The umbrellas were still there, perfectly arranged, untouched. The unease tightened in her stomach. What if he was caught in the rain? What if he was drenched and had caught a cold?
She stood abruptly, pacing for a moment, her fingers brushing against the back of her neck as though trying to relieve the tension there.
The house seemed even quieter now, the storm outside intensifying, reflecting the anxiety gathering inside her.
She thought of Marco.
No no. She couldn't bother him with this. What if she was just overreacting? What if Giovanni had simply stayed at school longer?
Still, she walked toward the shelf, her hand brushing against the cold metal of the umbrella stand.
What if he needed one? What if he didn't have one, and now... now he was out there in the downpour somewhere?
Her thoughts started to spiral, each scenario worse than the last.
I'll just... I'll wait. He'll be back soon. He's probably fine.
But her legs wouldn't stop shaking. And no matter how hard she tried to tell herself everything was okay, the thought of Giovanni out there in the storm gnawed at her like an itch she couldn't scratch.
Then, as if fate had decided for her, the sound of rain crashing against the windows grew louder, and she suddenly couldn't ignore it anymore.
Salomé didn't give herself a second to think. Her hand was already on the door handle, pushing it open. In her haste, she managed to throw on one of his oversized hoodies that hung on the door and grabbed two umbrellas on her way out.
The elevator took too long so she raced down the stairs, feet pounding each step until she burst into the night. The cold gust of wind hit her face fiercely, and the rain came down in waves—heavy and fast.
She opened one umbrella, clutching it over her head, while the other remained tightly wrapped in her other hand. Her crocs splashed in the growing puddles, and she wasn't the least concerned about the water soaking into her skin.
She ran faster, her heart pounding harder, pushing her to the direction she knew he'd probably be—back towards the school.
Maybe he'd taken a longer route, or something had delayed him, but it didn't matter anymore.
Her hair clung to her face, her hand were freezing and the umbrella barely held up against the gust of wind. But she didn't stop.
She just needed to see him. To make sure he was okay.
Then, just ahead, she saw a figure emerge.
She almost couldn't believe her eyes, but there he was.
Giovanni.
He walked slowly, completely soaked. His hair was slicked back from the rain, some strands plastered to his forehead.
His shirt clung to his body like a second skin. She could make out the lines of his chest and well-toned abs through the fabric, sharp and defined beneath the wetness.
Salomé's breath caught in her throat. Her pulse surged at the sight of him, and her cheeks flushed involuntarily. Her eyes traced the curve of his body for a split second before she quickly looked away, reminding herself to focus.
She swallowed hard, ignoring the heat that spread through her body. Her legs moved instinctively, driven by something more than concern as she called out to him, her voice loud in the thundering rain.
"Giovanni!"
He looked up at the sound, and even from a distance, she could see the confusion in his expression.
His face was damp, but his eyes widened when he saw her running toward him.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was barely audible, but she could hear the concern mixed with surprise.
"I—" Salomé puffed out a breath, standing in front of him now, panting. She lifted her umbrella to cover both of them. "I thought... I thought maybe you—" She cut herself off, shaking her head, unsure how to explain the rush of emotions that had led her here. "Here, take this."
She shoved the other umbrella into his hand, then shrugged off the hoodie, wrapping it around his shoulders, covering the drenched shirt that clung to his chest.
The heat rising to her cheeks was almost unbearable, and she tried not to focus on the way his body felt under her touch.
Giovanni didn't move at first, caught off guard by the sudden gesture.
"Salomé…" His voice softened slightly as he looked at her.
"I couldn't sit still," she muttered, avoiding his gaze, her fingers adjusting the umbrella, keeping them both beneath it. "I waited... and you didn't come back. I just... I couldn't stay in the house not knowing."
She glanced up at him, her eyes flickering between his face and the wet ground, unable to hold his gaze for too long.
The storm raged on, but for a brief moment, everything else disappeared. It was just the two of them standing there, in the middle of the rain, the distance between them narrowing in a way that made her heart race.
It felt ridiculous to care this much. But in the moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
"Thanks," Giovanni said quietly. He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing just a little, but his eyes never left hers.
"I just... wanted to make sure you were okay," Salomé mumbled, feeling the need to explain.
The moment hung between them, charged with the lingering tension, both of them aware of how close they were now standing.