POV:
the street lamps dimly reflected upon the cobblestone walkway as the rainfall noisily poured and made it’s existence known. it’s bliss and burden, laughter and sorrow, tragedy and narrative were collectively vulnerable as it fell unfalteringly from the dreary cloud-filled evening autumn sky. it was as if it had a story to tell, one with an undeniable sense of boundless sorrow and a touch of gentle obscurity.
though you had an umbrella over your head, you felt as if the thick woeful spirit of your surroundings were actively trying to surround you and pull you under, drowning you soundlessly and seeping deep into your very bones without letting you let out even a single cry. feeling anxious, you tighten your grip on the handle of your umbrella and quicken your steps.
as you approached your apartment, you looked up and couldn’t help but slowly come to a stop as you saw a familiar silhouette standing in your walkway. he was drenched and without an umbrella, and had obviously been waiting for awhile. they see you and their face immediately lights up. you can’t help the tremble that pulls waveringly as your heart.
you open your mouth and your voice quivers. “barry...?”
barry b. benson. he was the last bee you wanted to see right now. against your will, however, all the feelings you had for him that had been hid away now crashed back to you in waves, as if a dam had been broken and had no way of being repaired.
barry’s antennae quaked at the sound of your voice. “...y/n.” his eyes flicker over you from top to bottom, and inexplicably you feel your body heat up under his state. he speaks again, coughing awkwardly. “you look good.”
hearing that you look down at the ground, thinking that if he suddenly saw the look in your eyes, you’d have no way of explaining the emotions that shouldn’t have been there any more. “why are you here?”
“y/n... i-i wanted to apologize. i know i don’t deserve to say this, but i can’t get rid of my feelings for you. i’ve never been able to.” he lets out a stiff laugh to cover up the silence you give him in response. “i don’t need you to feel the same, i just—”
“what about adam?” you interrupt him, finally meeting his gaze. your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re squeezing the umbrella handle, but you don’t seem to notice.
he looks gloomy at this question. “i don’t think i ever really loved him. no, that’s wrong. i definitely never loved him. i just— y/n, i was wrong.” his voice fades into a whisper. “i was wrong. i’m sorry.”
this time, you’re silent for a long time. barry seemed ready to open his mouth again, but you stopped him, shifting awkwardly under your umbrella. “...it’s cold out here in the rain. let’s go in and.. help each other warm up.”
hearing this, a beast-like fire emitted from barry’s gaze, like a quenched man who had finally seen water. he hungrily takes in your image at this moment, as if wanting to sear it into his memory for an eternity.
he swallows, his voice coming out increasingly husky.
“okay.”
