[10:15 PM – A dimly lit bus stop. Rain drizzles steadily, creating ripples in puddles. A girl stands under the shelter, arms crossed, watching the raindrops. A guy walks up, shaking off his wet jacket before stopping beside her.]
Ethan: Looks like we’re both stuck here for a while.
Mia: Seems like it. Didn’t expect the rain to hit this hard.
Ethan: Yeah. Forecast said ‘light drizzle.’ I think it lied.
Mia: Typical. You always trust the forecast?
Ethan: Not really. But I like to believe in small certainties.
Mia: And now?
Ethan: Now I’m learning to appreciate unpredictability.
Mia: That’s one way to put it.
Ethan: You waiting for the bus or just avoiding the rain?
Mia: Waiting. But I don’t mind the rain.
Ethan: That’s rare. Most people hate getting caught in it.
Mia: Maybe because they only focus on getting wet, not the feeling of it.
Ethan: Sounds poetic.
Mia: It’s just rain. It doesn’t care how we feel about it.
Ethan: True. But you sound like someone who notices the little things.
Mia: Maybe. You?
Ethan: I try to. But sometimes, life moves too fast to stop and appreciate them.
Mia: And now?
Ethan: Now, I’ve got no choice but to slow down.
Mia: Not the worst thing.
Ethan: Not at all.
Mia: So, where were you heading before the rain decided otherwise?
Ethan: Nowhere urgent. Just walking. You?
Mia: Home. But I don’t mind the delay.
Ethan: Makes two of us.
Mia: You always this easygoing?
Ethan: Not always. But something about unexpected moments makes them feel… different.
Mia: I get that.
Ethan: What would you be doing right now if you weren’t here?
Mia: Probably curled up with a book, listening to the rain from my window.
Ethan: That sounds… peaceful.
Mia: It is. And you?
Ethan: Honestly? Probably just scrolling through my phone, missing the rain entirely.
Mia: Then maybe this worked out for the best.
Ethan: Maybe.
Mia: You always talk to strangers?
Ethan: Only when they seem interesting.
Mia: And do I?
Ethan: Enough to make me forget about the rain.
Mia: Careful. I might start thinking you enjoy this.
Ethan: I think I already do.
Mia: The rain or the conversation?
Ethan: Both.
Mia: Good answer.
Ethan: Thought so.
Mia: You think the bus will ever come?
Ethan: It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?
Mia: No. I guess it doesn’t.
[The rain keeps falling, the bus remains unseen, but neither of them seem to mind. The night stretches on, filled with conversation neither of them expected but neither wants to end.]
