Lanterns in the Rain

Chapter Eight: A Turning Point

The rain had stopped, but the air still felt heavy, thick with the promise of more. Rae sat in the corner of the library, her hood up as usual, but today, she wasn't entirely lost in the pages of her book. The note Henry had given her was still folded in her pocket, the words he'd written dancing in her mind.

She couldn't quite shake the feeling that something had shifted between them, but it was impossible to tell what. They'd always been on the edges of each other's lives—passing glances, a few brief conversations—but now...

Now, everything felt different.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class, but Rae didn't move. She wasn't sure she could. It was as if the world was suddenly too loud, too bright, and she was the only one still trying to make sense of the quiet.

The sound of footsteps broke through her thoughts, and Rae looked up, half-expecting to see Henry. But it wasn't him. It was just a couple of girls, laughing as they passed by. Rae sank deeper into her seat, her fingers pressing the note against her chest.

A few minutes later, she heard it—the familiar, comforting sound of Henry's voice, calling her name from across the room.

"Rae!"

She looked up, finding him standing at the entrance of the library, his usual grin spread across his face. He was holding a book in one hand and had a bag slung over his shoulder, but his eyes were on her.

"Hi," he said, sounding a little unsure as he walked over to her. "I... didn't expect to see you here today."

Rae gave a small nod, pulling her hood down slightly. "I like the quiet."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you like? The quiet?"

She didn't answer right away, unsure of how to respond. He was so easy to talk to, and yet, she still couldn't quite figure out why he kept trying to get closer.

"I was thinking," Henry continued, his voice more serious now. "About what you said the other day... about keeping people at a distance."

Rae stiffened. "I didn't say it to make you feel sorry for me."

Henry shook his head, looking at her with a mix of concern and understanding. "I'm not. I just... I get it. But you don't have to do it alone."

Rae's chest tightened. "I'm not doing it alone," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "I'm fine."

Henry didn't say anything for a long moment. He simply studied her, his gaze soft but unwavering. "You don't have to be," he said finally, his voice gentle. "You don't have to be fine all the time."

Rae looked away, unable to meet his eyes. His words felt like a challenge, like he was pushing her to open up, to let someone in. And that terrified her more than anything.

"You don't know anything about me," she said, her voice sharper than she intended.

Henry's expression didn't change. "I don't have to know everything. I just want you to know you don't have to do it all by yourself."

Rae swallowed hard, her throat tight. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, the quiet understanding in Henry's words wrapping around her like a blanket.

"I don't need anyone," she said, her voice breaking despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

Henry's eyes softened. "I don't think that's true."

The silence between them stretched on, thick and charged, until Rae couldn't stand it anymore. "Why do you care?"

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I care because I see you, Rae," he said simply. "I see the person you are, not the walls you've built. And I like you—more than I probably should—but that's not something I can just ignore."

Rae opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. Everything inside her felt tangled—part of her wanted to push him away, to shove him out and shut the door. But another part of her, the part she had been hiding for so long, wanted to reach out.

Before she could make up her mind, Henry took a small step forward, closing the space between them. "You don't have to answer right now," he said softly. "But... just think about it. Letting someone in."

Rae's heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to say something—anything—to make the feeling go away, to make the vulnerability in her chest stop hurting. But she didn't. She simply nodded, barely.

Henry smiled, but it wasn't his usual grin. It was something softer, warmer. "I'll be here," he said, his voice steady. "Whenever you're ready."

Rae watched as he turned and walked away, his presence lingering in the quiet after he was gone. The note he'd given her sat in her pocket, the words written on it feeling like a promise now—a promise she wasn't sure she was ready to keep.

But as the minutes passed, and the weight of the day settled around her, Rae realized something.

Maybe she wasn't alone.

Maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to be.