The alarm rang in Kirana's room in the morning; but today, she turned it off. Standing by the mirror, she thought to herself: No office. No deadlines. đ
At that same hour, Yusuf was in his own home, gazing at the clouds through his window, typing a text: "Free today?" The reply came within seconds. "All day."
Their meeting point was simple: the little cafĂ© near the bus stop. There was no rush. No schedule. đ
The city was unusually tranquil as they walked that morning. When Kirana paused by a shoe shop display, Yusuf didn't glance at his watch. The morning stretched out, unhurried and theirs.
By afternoon, clouds had gathered heavily in the sky. They sat on a bench in the park, two coffee cups between them. They didn't talk about the future,some days didn't need that. The first raindrop hit the concrete. đ§
"Rain's coming," Yusuf said.
They ran, laughing, finding shelter under a bus stand as the shower turned into a steady downpour. The world blurred at the edges.
A bus pulled to a stop. It was an awkward moment. Two routes. Two homes to return to. Though they held hands, they had to go separate ways.
"Text me when you get home," Yusuf said.
"You too."
The bus doors closed with a hiss. The sound of rain grew louder, isolating. As the bus began to move, she looked back at him through the rain-streaked window.
Their love, in that moment, felt beautifully incomplete. Not because they lacked it, but because they were still waiting, for the right time, for the next step, for their worlds to fully merge. The rain washed the streets clean. It did not wash away the feeling. đ