Lanterns in the Rain

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Against the Window.

The rain had stopped overnight, leaving the world damp and fresh under a pale, cloud-dappled sky. Rae walked to school with her hood down for the first time in weeks, the crisp air brushing her cheeks. She wasn't sure what had changed, but something about yesterday's conversation with Henry felt like a corner turned, a door cracked open.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she turned the corner into the schoolyard and saw him. Henry stood near the gate, his head tilted back as he stared at the sky, his breath visible in the chill of the morning. He looked lost in thought, his usual easy smile absent.

Before she could stop herself, Rae walked over to him.

"Morning," she said softly.

Henry startled slightly before his gaze landed on her. His expression shifted, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Morning. You're here early."

"So are you," she countered, her tone teasing.

He laughed, a quiet, warm sound that made her chest tighten. "Touché."

They fell into step together as they crossed the courtyard, their conversation light and easy. Rae found herself surprised by how natural it felt—this tentative rhythm they'd settled into, like the awkwardness of yesterday had melted away.

But as the morning wore on, Rae noticed something off about Henry. He wasn't quite himself, his usual spark dimmed by a weight she couldn't quite place.

By lunchtime, her concern had grown. They sat together in the library again, their usual spot by the window, but Henry was uncharacteristically quiet. His fingers traced idle patterns on the edge of the table, his gaze distant.

"Henry," Rae said finally, her voice soft. "Are you okay?"

He blinked, as if pulled from a faraway place, and looked at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

She frowned. "About what?"

He hesitated, his fingers stilling. "About us. About yesterday."

Rae's heart skipped a beat. "Oh."

"I meant what I said," he continued, his voice steady but quiet. "About liking you. About being willing to wait. But..."

"But what?" she asked, her chest tightening.

"I don't want to push you into something you're not ready for," he said, meeting her gaze. "The last thing I want is to make you feel like you have to do this because of me."

His words hit her harder than she expected. The honesty in his voice, the way he seemed so focused on her comfort—it was almost too much.

"You're not pushing me," she said, her voice firmer than she intended.

Henry looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure?"

Rae nodded, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. "I don't know what I'm doing, Henry. But I do know that I... I don't want to lose whatever this is."

His eyes softened, a small smile playing at his lips. "You won't."

The tension in the air eased slightly, the weight of the conversation lifting. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the faint sounds of the library filling the space between them.

Then Henry reached out, his hand brushing against hers. It was a small gesture, tentative and light, but it sent a jolt of warmth through her.

Rae didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her hand slightly, letting their fingers intertwine. It was a quiet act, simple but significant, and it felt like the first step toward something she didn't quite have the words for yet.

"Baby steps," she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Henry grinned, his usual spark returning. "Baby steps."

And for the first time in a long time, Rae felt like she wasn't walking alone.