Ever since that night, Manida couldn't shake the sound of screeching brakes from her mind. Even in class, she'd drift off mid-sentence.
After her students left, she sat alone, tapping the desk absently. The unease churned in her chest like a hidden current.
"What are you thinking about?"
Parin's voice broke the silence. She had draped her jacket casually over her arm, her tone probing.
Manida looked up. "Don't you think… that sound that night was terrifying?"
Parin smiled lightly, as if trying to soothe her. "But nothing happened. Don't overthink it."
"My instincts say otherwise," Manida murmured, brows furrowed. "It felt like… a warning."
Parin stepped forward and draped her jacket over her shoulders. "Then let me be your shelter," she said softly. "If you're scared, let me stay with you."
The words fell between them like a vow.
That night, the sky grew heavy with clouds. Wind carried the scent of rain.
As they walked toward a café, headlights glimmered on the wet pavement.
Suddenly, a motorcycle sped out of the corner. Parin reacted instantly, pulling Manida close. The bike whooshed past, missing them by inches.
Manida's heart pounded. She looked up at Parin. "You were really worried."
"Of course," Parin said quietly, eyes fierce. "I don't want to lose you."
The rain began to fall, forcing them under one umbrella—shoulder to shoulder, hearts close enough to feel each other's rhythm.
"Parin…" Manida whispered. "You're hiding something, aren't you?"
Parin didn't answer immediately. Her fingers tightened on the handle. "When the time comes," she said softly, "I'll tell you everything."
Rain poured harder, blurring the world—until only the two of them remained.