when we used to make home pull away Some people said rain was sad — but Nora never thought so.

To her, rain was honest . it didn't ask for explanation.

It did not judge.

It just fell–quietly, softly – until the whole world slowed down and breathed a little dipper.

She sat on old wooden bench near the school gate, her gray hoodie clinging to her shoulders, soaked at the edges. Her sketchbook lay open on her lap, a pencil still in her hand, though she hadn't drawn anything in the last fifteen minutes.

Around her, students hurried past under umbrellas, calling out to each other, laughing disappearing one by one, No one noticed her Nora didn't blame them.

She had become used to the quiet. To been invisible.

A drop slide from the tip of her nose. She wiped, it's away not knowing if it has been rain or something. Else.

Then came a voice – soft, familiar.

''You're going to catch a cold, you know that ?

She looked up. Eli stood there, his dark hair damp,

His bag slung lazily over one shoulder, and a slightly worried look on his face. In his hand ‐ her sketchbook. That one she had forgotten in art class that morning.

He held it out without saying more.

Nora blinked." You brought it.....again."

You always forget it when it rains, " he said simply.

She took it from, brushing her fingers against his.

" Thanks "

Eli sat beside her, not minding the rain-soaked bench.

He glanced at the sketchbook on her lap.

" Draw something? "He asked.

Nora hesitated, then flip a page to reveal a rough sketch a small house with broken windows.

A girl stood outside it, tiny and alone, with her arms crossed in the rain.

Elie looked at it for a long moment , you always draw

Her.

She's not me, Nora said quickly.

I didn't say, she was.

There was silence, But after a while Eli spoke again and said. You know rain doesn't ask questions but" I do ".

She looked surprised at him,

He struggled, smiling just a little. "Not now. Not today, just .... when you're ready.

The final bell rank in the distance .Eli stood up and offered her hand.

" Come on," he said" do not sit in the storm forever."

Nora stared at his hand , then took it.

They walk together along narrow Road leading away from the school , their steps low .

Eli opened his umbrella and held between them.

Nora did not say much, but she did not pull away either,The Silence between them wasn't uncomfortable.

Eli said "Do you remember when we used to walk home together" in 5th grade ? He asked.

Nora glanced sideways. "You mean when you used to Splash puddle just to get me wet "?

He laughs. Guilty. You used to yell at me.

" You ruined two of my notebooks ".

Eli looked at her playfully." Worth it."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips first in days.

When they reached her street, she paused." Thanks for walking with me ".

Eli gave her small wave, backing away slowly.

"Anytime ". Hey don't forget your sketchbook tomorrow.

"I won't "

"You will "

She didn't deny it.

Her house were quite when she stepped in. Too quiet.

The kind that hummed with thing left unsaid.

Nora climbed the stairs to her room and shut the door behind her. The rain were still falling outside, tapping gently on the windowpane like it has followed her.

She pulled out her damp hoodie, dried her hair with towel. Stayed by the window. Her sketchbook rested on the desk, unopened for now.

Outside, everything was blurred of gray and blue.

She stared out for while, listening to the sound of rain.it didn't ask where were her parents, it didn't wonder why was the house cold.it didn't care that her dinner would probably be something that she made alone.

The rain just stayed.

She open her sketchbook again, flipping to a fresh page.

Her pencil hovered for moment then moved.

This time she drew something different. A small bench, two fingers. One sitting, one standing, Both slightly blurred in rain–clearly not alone.

She looked at it, and for the first time in a long time.

It didn't feel just like sketch.

It felt like something real.

Like maybe, just maybe she wasn't invisible after all.

...********************...

It was a quiet Saturday.

No school. No bells. Just gray clouds, soft wind, and a girl sitting on a bench in the park.

Nora sat alone, legs curled slightly beneath her, a torn piece of bread in her hand. It wasn’t really breakfast, but it was something. The air was cold enough to sting a little.

Eli saw her from across the path. Most people walked past her like she was part of the bench, like she wasn’t even there. But Eli always saw her.

He walked over slowly, careful not to startle her.

“Didn’t feel like staying home?” he asked softly.

She didn’t look at him, but she didn’t move away either. That was her way of saying you can sit.

He did.

Her fingers tightened around the piece of bread. “It’s Saturday,” she whispered, voice rough from not being used much. “No one’s home anyway.”

Eli didn’t ask questions. He never did. He just sat beside her, close enough to share warmth but not too close.

“You want to come to my place?” he said after a minute. “It’s warmer. And… there’s food that’s not just bread.”

She hesitated. The wind tugged at her sleeves.

Finally, she gave a small nod.

Nora trusted Eli.

Not because he promised things.

But because he never did.

He didn’t try to fix her. Didn’t say you’ll be okay or I understand. He just stayed.

She only trusted him as a friend.

Because she didn’t trust love anymore.

Love made you soft, then left.

She had the proof.

Eli’s house was quiet, warm.

Photos smiled at her from the walls. The scent of tea drifted through the air. It was the kind of place where people remembered your birthday and folded blankets even when no one was visiting.

Eli’s mom looked up as they came in. “Nora,” she greeted kindly. “You’re just in time. I made mint tea. You can come sit in the kitchen if you’d like.”

Nora shook her head slightly. Too much.

“She’ll be in my room,” Eli said. “We’re just gonna hang out.”

His mother smiled. “There’s a blanket in the basket if she’s cold.”

Eli’s room was softly messy. Books stacked by the window. A puzzle half-finished on the floor. It was the kind of space that didn’t expect anything from her.

Nora sat on the bed, still holding her sketchbook but not drawing.

Eli sat beside her on the floor, back to the bed, eyes on the ceiling. “You okay?” he asked, though he already knew.

She nodded. That was all she could give.

Then she heard it.

From the kitchen—his mom, humming. The sound of a spoon against a cup. The soft warmth of a woman’s voice filling a house.

And suddenly, she wasn’t there anymore.

She was nine.

Her mother sat by the window, wrapped in an old sweater with paint on the sleeves. Her face was pale, but her smile was gold.

Nora was drawing beside her. Messy, crooked shapes on a page. Her mother brushed her hair back gently.

“You’re good with silence,” she whispered. “That’s a gift.”

Nora had smiled.

Her father came into the room. Quiet. Hollow. He sat in the corner but didn’t speak.

Her mother had coughed that night. For hours. Nora had sat in the hallway, clutching her pillow, listening.

Two weeks later, her mother was gone.

Her father didn’t cry. He just faded. Like a shadow no one noticed slipping out the door.

He left a week later.

She remembered the sound of the front door closing. It wasn’t slammed. Just… shut. Like someone giving up. She waited for it to open again. She waited all night.

Nora waited for him to come back.

He never did.

After that, everything became quiet. Too quiet.

Neighbors sometimes asked where her father was, but she said he was working.

She learned how to heat soup from a can.

Learned to be small.

Learned not to be noticed.

No one came. No one checked.

And she didn’t ask.

Because asking meant hope.

And hope had already left.

She blinked hard, and the memory slipped away like fog. She realized her hands were shaking just slightly.

Eli hadn’t said a word. But he was still there.

“I don’t believe in love,” she said suddenly.

Her voice surprised even her.

Eli looked up at her, eyes soft. “Okay.”

Not why?

Not you will someday.

Just okay.

That was why she stayed.

His mom knocked once, then peeked in. “Tea?”

Nora nodded this time.

The mug was placed gently beside her, steam curling into the air like a breath.

Eli sat beside her again. Close, quiet.

And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel the need to pull away.

She didn’t say thank you.

She didn’t smile.

She just let herself lean sideways—barely—until her shoulder brushed Eli’s.

He didn’t move.

And after a minute, she let her head rest gently against him.

Not love.

Not yet.

But something.

Something soft.

Something real.

Something that stayed.

......................