[ Rain's POV ]
As I walked through the university halls, I couldn't stop my thoughts from drifting back to Fran. The way his attitude was shifting-talking to me again, dropping me off at school, and especially following that fan page-made me realize he still cared. A small smile played on my lips. He was opening up, even if it wasn't exactly the same as it used to be.
"Rain!"
Michael's voice snapped me out of my daydream. "Let's go. The professor cancelled our afternoon class. They need the freshmen to help with the first aid booth for the first soccer game."
I had almost forgotten-today was the start of the University Sports Feast.
When we reached the booth, Sean was already there, looking like a celebrity. He was surrounded by girls from other departments who were clearly faking injuries just to talk to him.
"Doc, can you check on me?" one girl joked. "My heart stopped the moment I looked at you."
"Sure, sure. Come here," Sean replied playfully, leaning into the attention.
"Sean! Stop playing around," I scolded, stepping into the booth. "The game is starting soon."
The girls froze, looking at me for a heartbeat before they started giggling and whispering to each other. Sean scratched the back of his head, a shy, boyish grin spreading across his face. Why was he acting like that? That's exactly why people misinterpreted us.
"Hey!" I nudged him with my elbow, making him laugh.
"Okay, okay. You should go now, ladies," Sean told them. "Let's watch the game together later."
"Yeah, right," one girl said, glancing at me. "Fran is also playing today." They gave me a knowing look before scurrying off.
I just smiled as best as I could. I wondered what Fran really thought about this "shipping" thing. Knowing him, he probably pretended not to mind, even though I knew he was lurking.
The Engineering vs. Architecture game began. Fran was incredible. He had always been naturally talented at sports, unlike me.
I couldn't help myself-I found myself cheering loudly for the Engineering Department every time he touched the ball.
When the first half ended, I instinctively grabbed a water bottle and a towel. I ran toward him just like I used to when we were younger. To my surprise, he received them naturally, as if the last few years of silence had never happened.
"Ohhh! So the first aid team also offers 'special' services now?" one of Fran's teammates teased. "Personal water and towel delivery?"
The whole team started laughing. I realized then that they definitely knew about the fan page.
"Ah... I guess I'll go back now," I stammered, feeling the heat rise to my face.
But before I could turn away, Fran's hand shot out and gripped my wrist. He glanced toward our booth, where Sean was watching us from a distance.
"Stay here," Fran commanded. He pulled me down to sit on the bench right beside him.
"Huh? But I need to-"
"Stay." He gave me a look that left no room for argument. Stay, or else.
It was incredibly awkward sitting there while the team chatted around us. Fran didn't say much; he just rested, drinking his water and wiping the sweat from his neck while I sat there like his personal shadow.
But as I sat there, I found I couldn't look away.
Beads of sweat rolled down his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. He took a bit of water and poured it over his head, running his fingers through his hair to pull it back. It exposed his forehead and the raw, intense focus in his eyes. The damp fabric of his jersey began to cling to his chest and shoulders, leaving very little to the imagination.
He looks... I shook my head violently. Hey! Snap out of it!
Why was I looking at my best friend like that? It was just Fran.
I tried to tell myself it was the result of reading too many of those shipping comments, that the internet was finally clouding my brain. But my face was flushing, and the air around us suddenly felt ten degrees hotter. It wasn't just the sun; it was the proximity.
When the coach called them back for the second half, I used the distraction to sneak back to the booth.
"What took you so long?" Sean asked the moment I stepped inside.
"Fran wouldn't let me leave."
"Why?" Sean's brow furrowed. "Why did you even give him water? They have their own assistants. You aren't even in the same department, Rain."
"Your dog is jealous again," Michael teased, making our classmates in the booth laugh. "He's afraid his owner is going to abandon him."
"This dog is big but so sulky," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. I unwrapped a lollipop and handed it to Sean. "Here, eat this and stop pouting."
Sean took it, finally cracking a smile. But my own smile vanished the moment I looked past his shoulder.
A girl was walking toward our booth, supported by a friend. My heart did a slow, painful somersault.
It was Athena.
"Um, can you help my friend?" her companion asked. "She says she feels nauseated."
I froze. Everything around me-the cheering crowd, the whistle of the referee, Michael's teasing-faded into a dull hum. All I could see was Athena standing in front of me, looking pale and fragile.
What was she doing here? And more importantly... Fran.....