midnight rain [f. colapinto]

f i f t y - f o u r

Franco pulled open the freezer door, leaning down to peer inside, and let out a groan. Evita looked up from her notes, a bit startled. "Mint chocolate chip? Really, Evita?" he asked, turning to look at her with a mix of disbelief and horror.

Evita shrugged, looking down at her notes again. "What? It's a classic," she said.

"It's a travesty," retorted Franco. "Out of all the flavors in the world, you only have toothpaste with chocolate chips?"

"Mint chip is great, thank you very much," said Evita, feigning offense. "It's not my fault your palate isn't as sophisticated as mine.

Franco laughed, closing the freezer door with a sigh. "Yeah, well, I'm not eating that," he said. "No way. Come on, let's go get some real ice cream."

Evita shook her head. "I can't. My media ethics exam is tomorrow and I need to remember my case studies."

"Evita, you look like you're about to spiral," said Franco. "Studying while you're this stressed isn't going to do you any good."

Evita rolled her eyes. "You don't know anything about my stress levels."

"I know enough to see when you're about to snap," he said, walking over to her. "So come on, it'll take twenty minutes. We can go to that ice cream shop down the street, get something good, and you'll come back feeling better."

"Franco, I don't have time for that," said Evita, her voice strained. She ran her fingers through her hair. "And besides, aren't you supposed to be eating healthy?"

"Aren't you supposed to be taking care of yourself? How long have you been working?" Franco asked gently.

Evita looked at the clock on the wall. She grimaced when she realized just how much time had passed since she had last taken a break. "You don't want to know."

"And when did you last eat?"

Evita looked at him, a guilty expression on her face.

Franco took one look at her and sighed softly. "Alright, that's enough," he said, reaching over to gently close her laptop.

"Hey!" protested Evita. "I'm in the middle of-"

"Nope, not anymore," scolded Franco. "You need to take a break, Evita. I'll make you something to eat, and then we're going on that walk."

Evita opened her mouth to argue, but he was already helping her stack her notebooks in a neat pile, keeping everything organized. Just the way she liked it. Evita forced herself to sit on the couch and relax while Franco cooked a couple of ham and cheese toasties for them.

When they were done eating, Evita hesitantly let Franco drag her outside and down the street to the small ice cream shop.

"It looks like it's going to rain," said Evita, looking up at the evening sky.

"It's not going to rain, you're just looking for an excuse to study," argued Franco.

Though he wasn't entirely wrong, Evita was also right. She had been living in England since she was eighteen, she knew what it looked like when a storm was rolling in.

Once they got their ice cream, Franco with a scoop of chocolate, Evita with lemon sorbet, they took a seat at a small table in the corner of the shop. Evita had wanted to walk straight back to their flat, but Franco insisted she needed some time outside. She didn't want to start a fight, so she reluctantly obliged.

"So many good options and you chose lemon?" asked Franco. "Evita, you are an anomaly."

"It fits my sour personality," joked Evita. "And besides, it's better than chocolate. It's so basic."

Franco laughed. "You know, I didn't expect you to actually agree to come with me," he said, a softer version of his usually cocky smile etched on his face.

Evita shrugged. "I'm only here because I need the fresh air. Not because I want to spend any more time with you. And besides, I figured if I didn't, you'd keep pestering me until I gave in."

Franco nudged her foot under the table. "You know me so well," he teased.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help a small smile. "Don't get used to it."

"Isn't this so much better than stressing out over homework?" asked Franco.

"I guess," said Evita with a shrug. "But don't think that means I'm going to start taking your advice regularly."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Gorgeous. But I will have you know, I am always right."

Evita shot him a playful glare. "You are never right."

"Okay, maybe not always," he admitted with a smirk. "But I was right about this."

Evita didn't respond, choosing instead to focus on her sorbet, though she couldn't deny he had a point. As annoying as Franco could be, she did feel much better.

He watched her for a moment, then said in a quieter voice. "You should try not to push yourself too hard. You're fantastic at what you do, but you need to give yourself a break sometimes."

Evita glanced up, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. She wasn't used to him being serious, and it caught her a little off guard.

"Yeah, I'll try," she said, and she meant it.

"Good. I need you at full strength to keep me in line."

Evita laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."