Notes Between Seasons

Elias's POV

Saturday night had come and gone in a blur; a relentless stream of meetings, client calls, follow-ups, and late-evening syncs that offered him little time to catch his breath. From dawn to dusk, he'd been glued to his laptop, navigating numbers, deadlines, and decisions. The hum of conversation, the ping of incoming messages, and the ever-demanding nature of leadership had filled every waking second.

And through it all, one persistent thought lingered at the back of his mind… Anya.

He hadn't messaged her. Not even a "Hey, how was your day?" slipped through the cracks of his schedule. There simply wasn't a spare second or at least, that's what he told himself. But beneath the surface, a quiet regret gnawed at him, subtle but constant, like a ticking clock he couldn't silence. He missed her voice. Her eyes. The way she looked up at him when she laughed, head tilted just slightly to the side.

Sunday morning arrived wrapped in a storm. The skies hung low, pregnant with thick grey clouds that draped the city in a sleepy, damp haze. It had rained all night; not a gentle drizzle, but a relentless downpour that beat against windows and rooftops like an untamed drum. The streets glistened under pools of water, and the air smelled of wet asphalt and the faint freshness that only came with a heavy rain.

He'd come in dressed down a muted forest green crewneck layered over a soft grey sweater, paired with dark jeans and clean white sneakers. The kind of outfit that felt like him, but not the version the world usually saw. No blazer. No sharp cuffs. Just comfort. A soft rebellion against the suit-and-tie precision that usually defined him.

And still, he felt anything but comfortable.

Inside, he was pacing. Even as he walked, even as the steady rhythm of his shoes echoed in the back of his mind, his thoughts spun. His morning had been filled with half-hearted stabs at productivity; emails answered, spreadsheets checked, tasks crossed off. But his attention had been fractured.

It kept drifting back to her.

He hadn't seen Anya properly since Friday night. Two days; not long, technically. But it felt longer than it should've. There had been no texts, no quick messages, not even a shared emoji. Just quiet. And the quiet grew louder the longer it lasted.

They hadn't made plans for Sunday. He knew that. But still… he'd hoped.

Maybe she'd show up at the café, unannounced, like she had before.

Maybe he'd check his phone and see her name lit up on the screen.

But neither happened.

And the silence started to itch beneath his skin.

So, when his to-do list thinned out and the grey sky refused to shift, he closed his laptop and stepped out. Told himself he was just going for coffee. A walk. Fresh air.

But he didn't head for his usual café.

Instead, he found himself heading toward the restaurant, the one place he was sure she'd be.

He spotted her before he even stepped inside.

Through the window, slightly misted with condensation, she was just visible; standing by the side station, a to-go cup in hand, half-laughing at something Max had said. The boy was leaning in a little, too comfortable for Elias's liking. And Anya… her smile was wide, genuine. The kind of smile she used when she wasn't guarding herself. The one he'd seen when she curled up beside him, teasing, warm.

It knocked the breath out of him a little.

He wasn't angry. Not really.

But something tight pressed into his chest. A flicker of possessiveness. No; vulnerability, maybe. Or something that looked too much like jealousy.

And he hated how instinctive it felt.

For a beat too long, he just stood there; outside, under the awning, letting the cold mist settle into his clothes. His hand gripped the umbrella tighter than necessary.

Then he exhaled once, sharply, and forced his expression into neutral. Shoulders back. Jaw relaxed. He stepped inside.

Earlier, at Anya's Place

Sunday morning had arrived, wrapped in a heavy cloak of rain.

Anya woke slowly to the rhythmic tapping of droplets against her windowpane. The relentless, soothing noise wrapped around her like a lullaby, coaxing her back into the comforting haze of sleep. Her body felt heavy and reluctant to move, weighed down by the slow, steady pull of the morning's quiet.

She stayed beneath the covers longer than usual, her eyes tracing the meandering rivulets racing down the glass as the world outside dissolved into a blurred canvas of muted colors.

Eventually, the pull of routine won over inertia. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor greeting her feet with a sharp shiver that nudged her fully awake.

In the kitchen, she prepared a simple breakfast; lightly toasted bread and a steaming cup of ginger tea. The warmth from the cup seeped into her fingers, grounding her against the damp chill that clung to the air.

Her phone buzzed, breaking the quiet.

A message from Kristina.

Her fingers hovered uncertainly over the screen, debating a quick reply.

Maybe I should call in sick, she thought. Skip the shift. Stay in bed. Escape this never-ending rain.

But just as quickly, a sharp pang of loneliness stabbed at her heart.

When will I see Elias again if I don't go?

That thought, bittersweet and insistent, pushed her to move. She couldn't let the rain keep her from him.

She dressed carefully in her usual work clothes; dark jeans, an put cozy sweater top of restaurant t-shirt, and her trusted waterproof jacket. Grabbing her umbrella as the drizzle lightened, she stepped outside.

The first cold drops kissed her face, the soft patter on her umbrella oddly comforting, a small reassurance against the day's gloom.

But the skies quickly betrayed her resolve. Moments later, the heavens opened wide, unleashing heavy sheets of rain that drenched the empty streets and sent her hurrying toward the restaurant.

...

At the restaurant, Anya slipped inside, shaking off the wet chill that clung stubbornly to her jacket. The warmth of the bustling interior was a welcome contrast to the cold, relentless rain outside. She pulled her hood tighter around her face as she scanned the room.

Almost immediately, she nearly collided with Max, who was methodically tidying tables near the entrance. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but as he looked up and caught sight of her, a flicker of something unspoken passed through his eyes.

"Looks like today's not a good day to go out," Anya said, her voice light but carrying a hint of resignation. She pulled her hood up further, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the gloomy weather.

Max nodded slowly, the usual easy camaraderie between them tinged with a subtle weight. There was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes; perhaps at the weather, or maybe something else, something quieter.

"Yeah," he replied quietly, his voice low and almost wistful. "Guess we're stuck here for the day."

Anya laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine, even as it mingled with the muted clatter of dishes and hushed conversations filling the restaurant.

"Stuck in the rain, stuck at work. Sounds about right."

Max shrugged, his smile a little forced but still sincere. The two shared a brief, comfortable silence an unspoken understanding that the day ahead would stretch long and slow.

Then, as the steady rhythm of work pulled Anya away, the noise and bustle of the restaurant resumed its hold.

....

The day unfolded in its familiar, steady flow; orders were called out in quick bursts, plates clattered against wooden tables, and glasses chimed softly as they were set down.

Outside, the rain drummed a constant, soothing rhythm against the windows, a soft soundtrack that seemed to slow time itself.

Anya lost herself in the comforting repetition of the tasks before her; arranging silverware with practiced precision, pouring drinks with a steady hand, balancing trays as she moved smoothly between tables. The steady pace was a balm, quieting the restless stirrings of her mind and focusing her attention on the present moment.

Then, halfway through her shift, the restaurant door opened.

Elias stepped inside, the soft jingle of the bell announcing his arrival.

He'd finished work early, unable to resist the quiet pull drawing him here; to her.

Anya's heart leapt the moment she saw him.

He stood there near the entrance, sleeves casually rolled up on his soft grey sweater, hair slightly damp and tousled from the rain outside. His familiar, easy smile was there; warm and effortless, meant only for her.

In that instant, a flood of memories rushed through her the first time she saw him walk in with his friends, the way his eyes lingered on hers a moment too long, the easy charm in his smile, and how her heart stuttered even then, long before they ever shared a shift.

Their eyes locked across the room.

For a heartbeat, the clamor of the bustling restaurant seemed to fade into the background.

It was just the two of them, connected by a quiet, unspoken understanding.

Elias's smile deepened, gentle and reassuring, as if silently saying, I'm here.

Anya's cheeks flamed a deep crimson, a shy smile breaking across her lips. She looked away quickly, heart pounding in her chest, fingers trembling slightly as she resumed her work.

Elias chuckled softly to himself, watching her shy retreat with tenderness that only made the ache inside him grow stronger.

Outside, the rain fell steadily, draping the city in a soft, grey haze, cold and unrelenting, yet somehow comforting in its persistence.

Anya thought to herself, It's the perfect day to stay home and sleep.

If the rain didn't ease soon, maybe she'd even consider skipping her lectures on Monday, just to linger a little longer in this quiet, suspended moment.

Closing Time

The restaurant's hum faded into a soft murmur, the clink of cutlery and murmured goodbyes retreating into memory. The warm glow of overhead lights cast long, gentle shadows across the polished wooden floor. The scent of freshly cleaned tables mingled faintly with lingering notes of brewed coffee and spiced pastries the quiet residue of a day's work winding down.

Anya's hands moved slowly, rhythmically wiping the last table. Her fingers traced the grain of the wood, cool and smooth beneath the damp cloth. Outside, the rain tapped steadily against the windows, a soft, hypnotic percussion that seemed to slow time itself.

Her phone buzzed sharply against her hip, breaking the serene hush.

She pulled it out, breath catching as she read the screen.

Elias.

"Wait for me. I'm coming. Got an umbrella."

Her pulse quickened, the soft words feeling like a secret shared just between them; warm and alive amidst the quiet gloom.

Minutes later, the front door creaked open against the muted symphony of rain.

Elias stepped inside, droplets clinging to his dark jacket, the damp curls at his forehead clinging softly to his skin. The air around him smelled faintly of earth and wet pavement, a fresh, clean scent that mingled with the warmth of the restaurant.

Their eyes met; bright, steady, a spark igniting in the dim light.

His smile was slow, tender, lighting the shadowed room like a soft flame.

Anya tilted her head, studying him for a beat longer than necessary. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, a little too quickly. Then, after a breath: "Just needed a break."

Her gaze softened. "Rain will do that to you."

He chuckled quietly, the sound more exhale than laugh. "That and a crowded inbox."

There was a pause. Comfortable. Charged.

"You look…" she started, eyes flicking down and back up, "different."

He arched a brow. "That good or bad?"

"It's good," she said simply. "Nice to see you without the blazer."

That made him smile more fully. "Didn't think anyone noticed."

"I notice," she said, and something in her tone made his chest ache just a little.

Without a word, he stepped closer, sliding his arm around her waist, firm and grounding.

The contact sent a shiver through her; electric and startling in its intimacy. The warmth of his body pressed against her, steady and sure, grounded her amid the swirling quiet.

Outside, the rain softened, turning into a gentle mist that kissed their faces and draped the city in shimmering silver. The streetlights blurred through the haze, casting halos that danced on the wet pavement.

They stepped out together, the quiet splash of their footsteps blending with the soft patter of rain.

Then, just ahead, the calm shattered.

Flashing red and blue lights flickered violently, jagged shadows slicing the darkness.

Yellow barriers cut across the street, stark and sudden.

A massive tree, uprooted and fallen like a giant struck down, blocked the road. Its soaked bark glistened under the streetlamps, branches sprawling wide, leaves dripping cold rain onto the glistening asphalt.

Anya stopped, breath caught in her chest, eyes wide in the eerie glow of the lights.

The scene was surreal; the quiet storm trapped in chaos, nature's raw power on full display.

Before she could speak, Elias's voice cut through the charged silence; calm, steady, a lifeline.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up, startled by the warmth in his tone, the genuine concern shining in his eyes.

He was close now, the faint scent of rain and cedar wood on his coat enveloping her like a shield against the night's chill.

He took a slow breath, voice dropping into a whisper thick with unspoken meaning.

"If you want... you can stay at my place tonight."

The words hung in the damp air, heavy and fragile; a quiet invitation charged with possibility.

Her heart pounded fiercely, every nerve alive and aching.

The mist swirled around them, wrapping their bodies in a delicate cocoon, the world narrowing to this moment, this charged connection.

The rain's steady rhythm played a soft symphony, echoing the storm inside her; wild, uncertain, and thrilling.

The night stretched wide and endless, the darkness around them pulsing with promise.

And in that suspended moment, everything felt irrevocably changed.

The storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest rising between them.