Autumn Rain

Chapter 2: Shared Umbrellas

Days passed, and the city remained wrapped in a cloak of autumn rain. Alya found herself drawn back to the café, hoping to see Juno again. Each time she stepped inside, the familiar sound of rain against the window stirred a mix of hope and anxiety.

On one particularly rainy afternoon, she stepped into the café, her heart racing with anticipation. To her relief, Juno was sitting at the same table, sketchbook open in front of him. The moment he noticed her, his face lit up with a warm smile.

"Alya! Good to see you again!" he called out, motioning for her to join him.

She slid into the chair across from him, her heart fluttering. "I was hoping I'd run into you. How's the art coming along?"

"It's getting there," Juno replied, flipping his sketchbook to show her a series of portraits he had been working on. "But it's nothing compared to the real thing," he added, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Alya admired his work, captivated by the emotion captured in each stroke. "These are incredible, Juno. You really have a gift."

As they talked, the rain fell steadily outside, creating a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Alya felt a connection with Juno that she hadn't experienced in a long time. They spoke about their dreams and passions, finding common ground in their shared love for art and literature.

But as they laughed and shared stories, Alya felt a twinge of anxiety. The ghost of her past lingered, reminding her of the pain she had just begun to heal from. Juno seemed to sense her unease, his expression turning serious.

"Hey, if you're comfortable sharing, I'd love to hear about your past," he said softly.

Alya hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I was in a long-term relationship. We had plans, dreams. But it all fell apart, and I found myself lost."

Juno listened intently, his own heartache reflected in his eyes. "I can relate. I lost Isla a year ago. It's been a rough journey, but talking helps."

His words struck a chord, and Alya felt a surge of gratitude for his openness. They spent hours talking, the rain outside now just a soft murmur, lost in the rhythm of their conversation.