Lanterns in the Rain

Chapter Three: Beneath the Surface

The library was Rae's sanctuary. The world outside could be loud, chaotic, and overwhelming, but here, surrounded by the quiet rustle of pages and the faint hum of fluorescent lights, she felt a rare sense of calm. Her usual spot was tucked into the farthest corner, near a tall window that offered a perfect view of the courtyard. The rain had stopped, leaving the cobblestones damp and glistening, reflecting shards of a pale, gray sky.

Rae was buried in a thick book, its spine cracked from countless readings. She didn't notice Henry until he was standing across from her, holding a book of his own.

"You know," he began, sliding into the chair opposite her without asking, "I'm starting to think you're avoiding me."

Rae didn't look up. "Maybe I am."

Henry grinned, undeterred. "Well, here I am anyway."

She sighed, finally raising her gaze to meet his. "Do you always talk this much?"

"Only when I'm around people I find interesting."

Her hazel eyes narrowed slightly, her freckles more noticeable in the soft light. "You don't even know me."

"Not yet," he admitted, leaning back in his chair. "But I'd like to."

Rae closed her book, the thud of the pages echoing softly in the quiet room. "Why?"

Henry paused, as if considering his answer carefully. "Because you're different. And not in the 'wears-a-hood-in-a-school-uniform' way," he added with a small smirk. "You think about things. You notice things. That's rare."

For a moment, Rae didn't know what to say. She was used to being observed, judged, dismissed—but Henry's words carried no hint of malice or mockery. They felt genuine, and that unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or annoyed," she muttered, looking away.

"Why not both?" he quipped, opening his book.

Silence fell between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Henry seemed content to read quietly, and Rae found herself oddly at ease with his presence. She watched him out of the corner of her eye—his dark brown hair falling into his eyes as he read, the way his fingers absentmindedly tapped against the edge of the table.

"Do you always sit with strangers in libraries?" she asked after a while, her voice softer than before.

Henry glanced up, his charming smile returning. "Only the ones who seem like they could use a friend."

"I don't need friends," she said quickly, her tone sharper than she intended.

"Everyone needs friends, Rae," he said, unbothered by her defensiveness. "Even you."

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. Instead, she looked out the window, watching as a gust of wind shook the bare branches of a nearby tree.

"I've had friends before," she said quietly, almost to herself. "It didn't end well."

Henry didn't push, sensing the fragility of the moment. "Sometimes it doesn't," he said simply. "But that doesn't mean it's not worth trying again."

Rae turned back to him, her hazel eyes searching his face. He wasn't mocking her or prying—he was just... there. Steady, sincere, and completely different from anyone she'd met before.

"Why are you so persistent?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Henry shrugged, a small, self-deprecating smile on his lips. "Maybe I'm just stubborn. Or maybe I think you're someone worth sticking around for."

Her chest tightened at his words, a flicker of something unfamiliar sparking deep within her. She didn't trust it—didn't trust him—but she couldn't bring herself to push him away, either.

"You're going to regret this," she said finally, though there was no conviction in her tone.

"Maybe," Henry said, his smile softening. "But maybe not."

For the first time in a long while, Rae didn't have a snarky reply. She simply opened her book again, letting the steady rhythm of turning pages fill the space between them.

And as the clouds outside began to thin, letting a faint beam of sunlight break through, Rae felt a quiet shift inside her—a tiny crack in the walls she'd spent years building.

Henry didn't press further, content to read in silence. But he couldn't help the small smile that lingered on his face, knowing that for the first time, Rae hadn't walked away.

The storm between them was softening, and for now, that was enough.