Yellow.

nineteen.

The car ride is extremely quiet.

And Iman feels a bit out of place because there is literally nothing to talk about. It is a slow drive on the wet narrow roads that have been smacked by light rain, and the thick skies are now becoming clear. Iman adjusts on the black leather passenger seat, pressing the side of her head to the glass and staring out the window. It instantly makes her remember Harry, and his love for the rain.

A small smile of affection threatens to crack on her flushed face, but she holds herself together, trying not to get Chad curious about anything. It crosses her mind to ask his opinion on meeting Harry for the first time, but she really does not want to get any obnoxious remark as a response from Chad.

As the car makes a slow turn, Iman frowns to herself, remembering how quiet and withdrawn Harry became before he left with Gemma. It was a bit worrying to see his mood switch from a bit happy to instantly low-spirited. Even though he did not act withdrawn with her, at least he tried not to, Iman still managed to pick on how extremely reserved he became before going home.

"I said, do you want to pick up some lunch before I drop you home?" Chad's voice breaks through her train of thoughts, and she pauses, before giving a forced smile at him.

"No," Iman clears her throat. "I'm alright, thanks."

"Sure? You seem really deep in thoughts, what's on your mind love?" The endearing term shocks Iman a bit, and she gulps, wondering why it has a feel of discomfort with her.

Normally, almost everyone uses the term, and it really holds no deep meaning most of the time, but with Chad, it feels out of place.

"Nothing, I promise." She intones, smiling and dropping her eyes to the black sling bag placed on her knees.

"The library is lovely, and better than I had expected," he carries on with the attempt at a discussion.

"Well, I am glad about that," she exhales, biting down her lip and scurrying her eyes to the window, realising the rain has not seized.

Droplets of rain start clouting against the glass, and deep down, Iman is hoping that Harry is enjoying the rain as much as she is. It has never really occurred to her how beautiful the earth appeared when bathed with somber like and gloomy scenes. All she has always loved is the smell enriched into the earth right after the rain.

Pluviophile- (n) a person who loves/takes comfort from the rain.

Harry had found it in one of the books in the library and slowly circled with a pencil, because he surely could not pronounce it properly, and he really wanted her to see it is actually a term. It made sense to him, and caused him to appreciate that streak in him.

"So," Iman slowly turns to Chad with a smile. "What do you think about Harry?"

"Which one was he again?" Chad asks, off heartedly.

"The one with the red nose Chad," Iman hisses, and rolls her eyes.

A hearty laugh comes from him, but she is not finding it funny, because she is deeply curious to know what he thinks about Harry. Candidly, whatever Chad thinks of Harry will not change or affect her cemented opinion about the special man. All she wants to know if Chad now realises Harry is not as restricted and different from any other person.

"He is just there, we had nothing to exchange in respect of words," he hums, turning the car into the narrow familiar street, and Iman sits up in relief.

The view of her house comes into sight, and she is already eager to leap out of the car, and just bury herself in her bed, before thinking of anything else to do. The day has gone by a bit too fast, and she wishes that she had spent enough time bonding with the two men at the library, and expanding on the discussion of her date with Harry.