The rain started just after sixth period—slow, steady, unbothered by umbrellas or lockers slamming.
By the time Penelope met Julian outside the east entrance, it was pouring. He stood under the overhang, hoodie soaked, sketchbook inside his jacket like it mattered more than his spine.
"You waited for me?" she asked, breathless, hair already frizzing.
Julian shrugged. "Figured if I'm going to be confused and emotionally unstable, I might as well do it next to someone who makes it look romantic."
She smirked. "You're not emotionally unstable."
"I'm literally shivering in the rain holding a book of my feelings."
"Okay, fair."
They both laughed, even as thunder cracked somewhere above.Then came the quiet again. That familiar stillness between them, right before things turned real.
"I forgave her," Julian said softly.
Penelope nodded. "She told me. She cried a little and then tried to bribe me with frozen yogurt."
Julian gave her a look. "Did it work?"
"…Yes."
Another beat of silence, and then—
"I don't like being watched," Julian said. "I don't like that people are turning our story into a sideshow."
"They don't get to write it," Penelope said.
Julian looked at her, something fierce and grateful flickering in his eyes. "I want to keep this. Us. But I don't know how to protect it."She stepped forward, close enough to hear his heartbeat if she pressed her ear to his chest.
"You don't have to protect it alone," she said. "I'm not some girl who needs saving. I'm the one who'll fight beside you."
A slow smile touched his lips.
And right there, in the rain, Julian kissed her.
Not like the first time—careful and wondering.
This one was fierce. Certain.
A promise, not a question.
And for a second, the storm around them disappeared.