[ Rain's POV ]
The scent of the damp cloth on my forehead blended with the smell of rain—not the cold rain of tonight, but the warm, heavy rain from ten years ago.
I was eight years old again, curled up in bed, listening to the rhythm of the storm outside and my mother's voice on the speakerphone.
"Yeah... it's only been three days since they were apart, and Rain is sick again," my mother sighed.
"So is Fran," Fran's mom laughed on the other end. "He's crying to go back. But we already booked the villa for the summer! Is it really okay for you to come without your husband?"
"Yes, he'll be on a business trip anyway. What can we do? These two being together is more important."
I remember the delight that surged through me then. I could be with Fran again. My world, even at eight, didn't make sense without him.
At the beach villa, we were inseparable. I can still hear our mothers laughing as they watched us play.
"They're destiny," Fran's mom had joked. "When we were pregnant, we didn't even check the gender—we just went to the temple to tie their fates together. We prayed they'd grow up and marry each other."
"Fran," I had whispered that night, "What is marriage?"
"It's a promise to be together forever," he replied with the confidence only a child has.
"Really? Then... are we going to be together forever?"
"Hmm. Yeah."
Back then, I didn't understand what forever meant. I just knew that Fran becomes my world that I can't escape the gravity that is pulling me into him.
The dream shifted, the beach sands turning into the dusty tiles of our 5th-grade classroom. Our first fight.
"Rain! Why are you getting close to Bianca?" Fran had yelled, his face red with anger.
"She's my girlfriend! Why?"
"What? She said I was her boyfriend!"
We eventually found out Bianca had a boyfriend named Alex, and neither of us made the cut. We laughed it off then, making a solemn, childish vow: Never fight over a girl again. Always tell the other if we like someone.
But promises made by children are easily broken by the hearts of teenagers.
11th Grade.
"Rain! Rain!"
Fran ran toward me, a smile so bright it made my chest ache. "I found her, bro. The girl I was looking for. Isn't she pretty?"
He shoved his phone in my face. My heart stopped. It was Athena.
Athena—the girl I spent every afternoon with in the library. The girl I had been "volunteering" with until we became too close. The girl who looked at me with the same "mutual" interest I felt for her.
"I really like her, bro. I'm going to ask her out."
"Oh..." was all I could manage. My throat felt like it was full of sand.
"Remember that girl who helped me at the clinic after the fight with the seniors?" Fran went on, his eyes glowing. "That's her. I saw her at the library window today. I already got her socials. Do you know her?"
"No!" I blurted out.
The lie felt heavy on my tongue. I knew I should tell him the truth. I knew we had a promise. But Fran looked so happy—the kind of happy he only was when he was with me. If I told him I liked her too, I'm scared of what he will react.
"Don't worry," I said, forced a grin. "I won't like anyone you're interested in anymore. One Bianca was enough."
"Are you sure you're not lying?" Fran leaned in, his face inches from mine, searching my eyes with that intense, "Angry Bird" stare he gave everyone else. But then, his expression softened. To the world, Fran was fierce. To me, he was home.
"I'm not interested in anyone right now," I whispered, looking straight back at him. "I already have you. You're more important to me."
Fran went silent. He pinched my cheeks, a warm, goofy smile breaking across his face. "Okay, okay. You're important to me, too."
After that day, I stopped going to the library. I ignored Athena's messages. I watched from the sidelines as she eventually stopped calling me and started dating him.
When he finally introduced her to me as his girlfriend, I looked her in the eyes and pretended we were strangers.
"Nice to meet you," I had said.
She played along. But in that moment, the "Forever" Fran and I promised each other started to crack. I thought I was protecting him by lying. I didn't realize I was building a bomb that would eventually destroy us both.
The warmth of 11th grade faded as a cold draft hit my skin. I shivered, my eyes fluttering open.
The beach villa was gone. The library was gone.
I was back in our dark apartment.
Fran was still there, sitting on a chair pulled close to my bed. He was leaning forward, his head resting in his hands, his shoulders tense. He looked like he hadn't slept at all.
"Fran..." I croaked, my throat dry.
He jumped slightly, his head snapping up. For a split second, the "Angry Bird" mask was gone, and I saw the boy from the beach—the one who promised we'd be together forever.
"You're awake," he said, his voice back to that guarded, raspy tone. He reached for the water glass, but I caught his sleeve.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, the memory of Athena and the lie still heavy in my mind. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you back then."
Fran froze. His hand stayed suspended in the air. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. He didn't ask what I meant. He knew.
"Go back to sleep, Rain," he said, his voice turning into that shards-of-glass sound again.
He pulled his arm away and stood up, walking toward the door without looking back. "The fever is making you talk nonsense."
The door clicked shut, leaving me in the dark. I closed my eyes, a single tear tracing the path he had wiped earlier.
We were both still trapped in that lie, and I realized then—the "Forever" he promised me when we were eight had turned into a life sentence.