Chapter 15 (Part 2)

The rain had stopped, but the quiet that followed was heavier than the storm.

After the kiss, after the breathless laughter, after the way their hands stayed tangled as they walked home, something shifted between Pearl and Sharon. It was subtle—a hesitation in their texts, a pause in their conversations, a flicker of doubt in their eyes when they thought the other wasn't looking.

Pearl overthought everything.

Was it too fast? Did he regret it? Should I have pulled back?

Sharon felt it too.

Was it okay? Did she feel pressured? Was I selfish?

They met in the library the next day, sitting across from each other, books spread out like usual. But the laughter didn't come as easily, and the silence felt thick.

Pearl tried to break it. "Did you… um, finish that sketch you were working on?"

Sharon nodded, not meeting her eyes. "Yeah."

"Can I see?"

He hesitated, then slid the sketchbook across the table. It was her, standing under the rain, hair plastered to her face, eyes closed, smiling. She looked… happy.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, tracing the lines softly with her finger.

"Thanks," he said, his voice low.

Another silence. Pearl's hand hovered over the page, wanting to reach for his hand, but she pulled back, tucking it under the table instead.

"Sharon," she said, gathering courage, "are we okay?"

He looked up, startled, his eyes meeting hers for the first time that day.

"Yeah," he said quickly, but his voice betrayed him.

Pearl's brows furrowed. "You don't sound like we're okay."

Sharon opened his mouth, then closed it, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just… I don't know how to act now. I don't want to mess things up."

Pearl felt her heart soften and tighten at the same time. "Mess what up?"

"This," he gestured between them, his fingers curling slightly. "Us."

She swallowed, looking down at her notes before meeting his gaze. "Sharon, that kiss… I don't regret it."

His eyes widened, and for a moment, relief flickered across his face. "You don't?"

Pearl shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "No. But I don't want us to start walking on eggshells either."

Sharon exhaled, his shoulders dropping, his hand moving across the table before stopping, uncertain. Pearl reached out, placing her hand over his.

"We're okay, Sharon," she whispered, squeezing his hand gently.

He finally smiled, the soft, shy smile that made her chest warm, and squeezed back.

"Okay," he said softly, and in that small, quiet moment, the silent fight melted away.

They sat there, hands linked under the table, the soft rustle of pages around them, letting the warmth of the small promise between them mend the unspoken tension.

Because sometimes, love wasn't just about the kisses under the rain. It was about choosing to stay, even through the silence, until the words found their way back.