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The glass is cold against my palm. But I hold it there anyway. My breath fogs the window. Outside, the rain is falling, blurring the world into a bluish-gray haze.
I sigh. I didn't mean to, but my mouth turns down anyway.
The rain always makes me sad. It presses against my chest. Like the world is crying, and so I'm supposed to follow — even if I don't know why.
Today though… I do.
We had plans. Me and Basil. We were going to visit the botanical garden in the next town over. I was going to listen to Basil talk about flowers for hours. I like when he forgets that anything else exists. Just me, him, and the flowers. He would have smiled the whole time too. That soft little smile that he makes whenever he starts to ramble. The one that’s always so contagious that I can’t help but smile too.
I could've picked out a flower to give him. Tucked it into his hair. Something blue, to match his eyes. Or pink. Or red. Basil would look good with any color. And it would mean something. Because it was us.
We could’ve held hands as we walked through the winding paths. Laughing at some joke Basil made. We’d walk slowly. Like we had all the time in the world.
Maybe find some quiet corner where it was just us. And the flowers. We’d look into each other’s eyes.
And then—
And then maybe we could—
The warmth spreading across my face cuts me off.
I lean my head against the glass. It's cold against my forehead. The rain taps against the window. Like it knows.
Of course it had to rain…
I close my eyes, ignoring the door creaking behind me.
“Sunny, I made tea.”
Basil. With his voice that always feels so soft. So careful.
I meet his eyes when I turn around. They’re a striking blue I always get lost in. Like an ocean that swallows my worries.
But now, it just makes my stomach drop. I could’ve seen them shining in the sunlight. Not stuck under the rain and clouds.
His smile softens.
“Sorry we had to cancel our plans…” He sits down in front of me. Wipes tears from my eyes.
I didn’t realize they had formed. Until Basil dried them.
I hate when he sees me like this. Even if he never seems to mind. Even though he always knows how to cheer me up again.
“We’ll go another time, okay?”
He touches his forehead to mine. And his breath tickles my face.
I smile. Basil always knows what I’m feeling. Always. It’s almost scary. I don’t know how he knows me so well. But he makes me feel fuzzy. Warm. Like sitting in a sunbeam.
“Okay.” I exhale softly.
Basil’s right. There’s always tomorrow.
His hand warms mine as he holds it.
“Let’s go have that tea.”
His voice is gentle. I always love to hear it. Soft, like it’s meant just just for me.
He takes my hand and doesn't let go. I don't know why it means so much to me.
I just let him lead me into the kitchen. The bright overhead light hurts my eyes. My fault for sitting in the dark for so long.
The room smells like mint tea, freshly brewed. And freshly grown too. Ever since I suggested growing the leaves ourselves, we've been having even more tea than before. I didn't think that was possible.
I don't mind though. It gives me an excuse to spend more time with Basil. And it tastes good too.
Basil hands me a mug. His favorite. Green patterned with various flowers along the bottom. It was practically made for him. And yet he always gives it to me…
My fingers curl around it. It's hot — but not too hot. The steam rises in front of me. Twirling upwards and vanishing.
Basil lightly clinks his mug against mine. Giggling. “Cheers?”
I can't help but smile at that. “Cheers.”
I take a sip. Ouch— too hot. Maybe I should let it cool down a bit.
Basil seems just fine drinking it though. He always looks so calm with a cup of tea. Something about it just… completes him.
“Do you want to go sit on the porch?”
On the porch? In this weather…?
I tap my finger against the mug.
Basil has always liked the rain. Watching it fall. Hearing its light taps against the window. I think more than anything he likes the scent. The petrichor the day after. The dew on the grass and flowers.
It might not be my thing. But for Basil…
“S-sure.” I say. Hopefully he missed my stutter.
I hear him exhale, expecting him to call me out. But no. He just wraps an arm around me. And then—
My face heats up.
He just— I—
I press my mug against my face. Trying to hide behind it.
“Basil…” I barely manage to say.
He just kissed my cheek. Like it was nothing. It tingles. In a way that makes it impossible to stay composed.
I look at him again.
He's smiling. Wobbly. Face as red as mine probably is.
I look away when our eyes meet.
He clears his throat. “S-so… sitting on the porch?”
I nod. I can't look at him right now. Too much. Too cute.
I take a deep breath. And we walk to the door. It opens with a creak. The cold air hits, sending a chill through me.
I take a sip of tea and feel the warmth spread through me. It helps. A bit.
Basil scoots the chair over. It scrapes against the deck.
I sit down. Even the chair is cold.
Basil sets his tea down on the table and walks back inside. Leaving me alone.
It's cold. Empty. Like a held breath. Why am I sitting out in the cold when I could be inside? With heating. And a comfy couch.
I sigh. Right when Basil returns.
“Sorry…” he looks away. “You looked cold.”
He's holding a blanket.
Why? Every time I complain. And he's thinking of me. Why can't I just accept what I have? I have Basil. Perfect. Cute.
The blanket falls on top of me. Fluffy.
I blink.
As I pull the blanket off my head, Basil sits next to me. He smiles. Because he always does. He's always the one cheering me up. What have I ever done for him?
“Sorry…” The word escapes me.
“Don't be.” He whispers.
The fabric rustles as he shifts closer. Our shoulders brush in a way that should feel comforting. But now it just feels like something I can't ever repay.
“You always do so much for me.” I sniffle. “But I—”
“I never—”
My throat tightens. I can't even say it. Why can't I just—?
“You do.” Basil’s voice interrupts me. Firm and sure. “Every day.”
I don’t— That doesn't—
I look into his eyes. They're clear. And bright.
I haven't done anything…
But… why do I believe him?
I let my head fall against his shoulder. Blinking away my tears.
He spreads the blanket out. Over both of us. Our shared warmth trapped within. Like a spot made just for us.
It feels warmer now. Basil always feels warm.
I exhale slowly. And look out at the pouring rain.
Maybe… maybe it isn't so bad after all. Maybe it doesn't always have to be sunny.
I sink further into Basil's shoulder.
Maybe the rain is fine too.