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The raindrops stroked the courtyard view with sharp lines and crystalline splotches that dripped from the roof’s ridge and splashed onto the school front steps. Félix fiddled with his umbrella’s handle as the rain hushed and splashed across the street, willing his heart to slow down.
It didn’t, though. Especially at the shuffling followed by a grunt behind his back that made his shoulders jolt a bit.
“How am I supposed to– Huh? Oh, Félix, hi!”
He glanced back at Marinette, hands tightly gripping the umbrella, eyes darting from her to the umbrella’s rack.
“Yeah, my–” She flicked her eyes back to the rack then to the floor. “My umbrella isn’t here. Uhm…” She turned to look at him, walking up to stand besides him at the school entrance. “Why’re you still here?”
Félix didn’t even attempt to get a word out and just fished his library card from his pocket, tapping it with his index in Marinette’s field of vision.
“Oh, I see. Lost track of time?”
He nodded.
She gave him that close-mouthed smile; the one that, unexplainably, always assured him that no matter how difficult it became to make words pass his throat, she’d still understand him. And even if not, she’d always try. And that meant more to Félix than anything else.
A sigh escaped her when she shifted to gaze at the rain-painted streets, lips pursing as she looked over her clothes, bag, then raised her eyes back to the streets.
Félix cleared his throat.
She hummed questioningly. Usually, she’d stammer or ask, “Are you trying to say something?” but it seemed as though she also found small sounds to be a viable way of communication. That thought might’ve been what gave Félix the strength to look her in the eye when he opened his umbrella and held it out between them without shaking.
“O-oh…” Her eyes widened as they darted between his face and the umbrella, red coloring her face. “Ah.”
She was stammering.
Did he do something wrong?
The shaking began.
“Y-you don’t need to!” Marinette stepped back, hands flying out to gesture widely. “My– my house’s way farther than yours, I wouldn’t want to bother–!”
A high-pitched noise scraped out of Félix’s throat when he opened his mouth to interrupt her. It wasn’t his intention, but it got her to stop talking and look at him. He realized the shaking had faded completely as he firmly shook his head.
Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“Hmm.” She still seemed hesitant, bringing a hair strand to her mouth to chew on it, then she perked up. “Oh! How about this: You take me to the closest convenience store, I buy an umbrella there, and we can go our ways! Is that alright with you?”
No, Félix would’ve liked to stop by Marinette’s house, but she sounded much more calmer with this arrangement, so he nodded.
“OK! So, uh, let’s get going. Do you know the way?”
He shook his head.
“W-well then–” She whipped her face away, red ears visible between her dark hair, and raised a shaky hand to firmly grasp the umbrella’s handle. “I– I’ll lead the way.”
Félix nodded, then remembered she wasn’t looking and uhumed; eyes fixed on the small hand touching his as they cut through the rainy air.
At first, Marinette had tried putting some distance between them, which he appreciated, but he didn’t want her getting attacked by the rain. Besides, he– didn’t mind their shoulders bumping as they walked over the puddle-dotted roads.
Soon she relaxed and the stammers died out from her voice as she chattered under the pitter-pattering on the umbrella. About school, about designs, about their friends, all without awkward pauses where she expected him to fill in the silence. And not because she talked over him, either, she paused for long enough to catch his reaction, and seemed to actually take something from it, as she would smile or even laugh after a look at his face—something that never felt patronizing or mocking; a nice change.
When they reached the convenience store, Félix vehemently shook his head at the suggestion of going inside with her—too many people in there. Nope. Nuh-uh—and stood outside, swirling his closed umbrella in a puddle, as he waited for her.
The door swung open and Marinette came out of the building with a victorious grin and a newly-bought umbrella raised in the air.
“Thanks for the lift, Félix!” She giggled, lowering the umbrella to the floor with a thud. “But, uh–” Her eyes went askance. “Can I ask you something?”
His nod was a bit cautious.
“Did you–” Red was blooming on her face again but she took in a breath and said, without stutter, in one go, “Did you see Alina’s note saying that she took my umbrella and was that why you were waiting for me at the entrance?”
Félix froze.
Marinette was still holding her breath as she looked at him.
He forced his head to nod once, neck creaking.
She released her breath, lips parted as she blinked in wonder at him.
His legs twitched to run away, get out of the line of her undivided attention, but Félix tightened his grip on his umbrella and remained with his feet planted there.
“O-oh.” A smile graced Marinette’s lips as she dipped her head, glancing at the weakening rain over the roads. “Thanks.”
The smile didn’t fall off—in fact, it seemed to be growing—as she turned to the streets and opened her umbrella.
“Goodbye Félix!” She waved. “See you tomorrow!”
As the raindrops strokes painted over her diminishing figure bouncing under the streetlights, Félix got one, soft, sentence past his lips:
“Bye, Marinette.”