C6 The Rain and the Smile

The east balcony caught the rain like a whisper.

It wasn’t dramatic. Not a downpour. Just a steady, curtain-like drizzle that softened the edges of everything—sound, light, thought.

Ethan sat on the cushioned bench built into the alcove wall, a black hoodie pulled over his head, sleeves pushed up. One hand rested on the armrest, the other held a ceramic cup of oolong tea that had long gone cold