Lanterns in the Rain

Chapter Two: The Edge of the Storm

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chaos of lunchtime—a sea of voices, laughter, and the clatter of trays. Rae sat alone near the window, her hood casting a shadow over her face as she absently pushed a piece of pasta around her plate. She had chosen the seat for its view, naturally. Outside, the rain had softened to a drizzle, the world beyond blurred as though seen through frosted glass.

Henry spotted her from across the room. His friends were halfway through a heated debate about last night's football match, but he wasn't listening. His focus was on Rae—quiet, cloaked Rae—who seemed like she belonged to another world entirely.

"Hey, Henry," one of his friends nudged him, grinning. "Earth to Henry. You coming to the game after school?"

"Uh, maybe," he replied absentmindedly, already stepping away.

"Where's he going?" another friend muttered, watching as Henry crossed the cafeteria.

Rae didn't notice him approach until he was right in front of her, holding his tray awkwardly.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, his voice steady but soft, as if he were approaching a wild animal.

She looked up, startled. Her hazel eyes darted to the other empty tables nearby. "Plenty of seats elsewhere."

"I know," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But I like the view from here."

Rae's brows knit together, her gaze narrowing slightly. "The view," she repeated, her tone skeptical.

Henry shrugged, lowering his tray. "Yeah. You don't mind, do you?"

Before she could come up with a reason to send him away, he had already sat down. She sighed and focused back on her plate, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her discomfort.

"Do you always eat alone?" Henry asked after a moment, picking at his sandwich.

She glanced at him from under her hood. "Do you always ask so many questions?"

"Maybe," he said with a grin. "I just think it's a little... unusual."

"Maybe I like being unusual," she shot back, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

Henry chuckled. "Fair enough. But sitting alone every day seems... lonely."

Rae looked at him sharply, her hazel eyes flashing. "Being alone isn't the same as being lonely. You should know that."

The words hit Henry harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again, unsure what to say. Rae took his silence as an opportunity to go back to her window-watching.

The rain had stopped, leaving a glistening sheen on the pavement outside. A small bird flitted down to peck at a puddle, its tiny movements captivating. Henry followed her gaze, a comfortable silence settling between them.

"Do you ever wonder why people try so hard to fit in?" he asked suddenly, his voice quiet.

Rae blinked, turning to him again. "All the time."

He nodded, smiling faintly. "Me too. It's exhausting sometimes, isn't it?"

Her lips twitched as though she might smile, but she didn't. "I wouldn't know. I stopped trying a long time ago."

Henry studied her, his brown eyes warm and thoughtful. "I think you're braver than most people, Rae."

The comment caught her off guard. She frowned slightly, looking away. "It's not bravery. It's just... easier to keep people out."

"Until someone refuses to stay out," he countered gently.

She looked at him then, really looked at him. His dark brown hair was slightly tousled, his uniform tie slightly askew, and yet he had this aura of quiet confidence—an openness that made her chest tighten.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Because," he said simply, "I think you're worth knowing."

The words lingered, heavier than she expected. She felt exposed, as if he could see the walls she had so carefully constructed. It unsettled her, but at the same time, it warmed something deep within her.

For the first time, she didn't have a sharp reply. Instead, she picked up her tray and stood, her hood shifting slightly to reveal a few strands of light brown hair.

"Don't make a habit of this," she said over her shoulder, her voice softer than usual.

Henry watched her walk away, his smile unwavering. "No promises."

As she disappeared into the hallway, the rain began again, its rhythm tapping against the windows like a heartbeat. Henry looked outside, feeling as though something significant had begun—a storm, perhaps, or maybe just the first ripple of something larger.

And for once, he didn't mind getting caught in the rain.