The next second, I rushed out into the rain.
If this went on any longer, I'd be spending the night on the streets.
The torrential rain instantly blurred my vision, water pooling at my ankles. I stumbled forward, slipped, and fell to my knees.
The sound of footsteps in the water grew closer, and the downpour over my head suddenly stopped.
I collapsed into a warm chest.
"Are you alright? Can you still walk? Let me take you home."
Chandler's concerned tone didn't seem fake. He held the umbrella in one hand and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his embrace.
I struggled to free myself, but the pain in my knee forced me to give in.
It seemed I wouldn't be able to walk.
Perhaps seeing my embarrassment, Chandler hesitantly offered, "Should I… carry you?"
His tentative manner made me think of the time he confessed.
His ears had turned red as he stammered, "C-can we be together?"
It had only been half a year, yet it felt like everything had changed.
This time, I didn't put up a front.
"Alright, then.
"Sorry to trouble you."
Once we got inside my home, Chandler began looking around.
"Stop looking."
I kicked off my heels, tossing them aside carelessly.
"I threw away all your stuff."
His footsteps halted abruptly.
I stumbled toward the couch, struggling to reach the first-aid kit in the drawer of the table.
Chandler was faster. He grabbed me by the waist and set me down on the couch, turning his back to me as he muttered, "I'll put the medicine on for you."
When we were together, he'd done this plenty of times.
I was careless and often ended up with scrapes and bruises without even noticing. Chandler never complained, always patiently disinfecting and applying medicine.
He never said much while he did it, but the furrowed brow and tense expression on his face showed how much he worried about me.
The rain outside hadn't let up.
Halfway through applying the medicine, Jayvon suddenly called.
Chandler caught a glimpse of the name of the caller, and his expression darkened. He freed one hand to pick up my phone from the table.
"You want to answer it?"
My gut told me that nothing good would come from this call.
Chandler feigned ignorance. "You can answer it. Just ignore me."
I shot him a glare and answered the phone.