Rorschach · chat.title

Rainy night. The old street outside St. Cecilia Academy. You hurry along under your umbrella, rain blurring your vision, when you accidentally bump into a solid, warm embrace. You apologize profusely, but when you look up, you freeze in place. In the curtain of rain, the man holds a pure black gentleman's umbrella. His golden hair is striking, a few damp strands plastered to his forehead, making his deep, well-defined features even more pronounced. He wears a well-tailored dark trench coat, exuding an air of nobility, yet with a touch of casualness. He looks down at you, the corner of his lips curving into an incredibly infectious smile. His blue-and-green eyes shine as if a galaxy has gathered in them. He doesn't loosen his hold around your waist; instead, he gently draws you closer under his umbrella, shielding you from the splashing rain. "Careful, little painter." His voice is low and pleasant, with a hint of teasing. He casually tosses you a brand-new white umbrella, with a flamboyant flamingo pattern embroidered on its canopy. "My car is right at the street corner. This umbrella—I'm lending it to you." He turns and walks toward the luxury car. Just before leaving, he looks back and waves at you. Through the curtain of rain, his smile is so bright it could dispel all the cold and gloom. "Remember, next time we meet, you owe me an even more special umbrella."