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They met because she missed her train. 

She slumped onto the bench with a sigh, stale rain soaking through her coat, but she didn’t care. Not when the next train was scheduled for two hours from now. 

Grey clouds gathered overhead, promising unhelpful weather as she leaned back into her iron throne. There was no one else in the entire station this early in the morning — well, no one else but the guy swallowed by the black umbrella he’d propped up on the seat next to him, a newspaper in his lap. He was on the opposite side of the platform, heading west instead of east like her. About her age, dressed in a suit, with a sharp jawline and dark hair. A lawyer, or an accountant, or some other serious job that required tending to on the Saturday of a long weekend. 

She crossed her arms and hummed the song that had plagued the radio on the cab ride over here. The lyrics were nonsense, but the tune filled the silence. After a while, when the skies broke and rain drenched her ebony locks, she surrendered to the music, her knee bopping along in rhythm. 

As the last of the bridge left her lips, there was a flash of movement in front of her. 

The guy tilted the umbrella backward, just enough for her to see the wide smile pulling at his dimples. Beside him, the newspaper lay forgotten. 

“Keep going,” he called out across the train tracks. 

Emboldened by the foul weather, she stood and twirled, belting out the lyrics from the beginning to her solo audience. This was her professional domain, after all. 

He clapped and whooped like an avid concert-goer, eventually stepping out beyond the shelter of his umbrella when she switched to her childhood favourite. Off-key he might have been, but she was lost to the song. Taken by the electricity crackling through her veins, incinerating her earlier frustrations. 

An hour passed with them in endless duet. He tended to favour rock hits from the eighties while she opted for Broadway showstoppers. Either way, both complemented the other, and she found herself laughing whenever their eyes caught, when the rain sluiced down his cheeks. 

When people emerged above the lip of the staircases, they resumed their seats with everyone none the wiser. People huddled in the narrow canopy behind them, but the benches welcomed their heat. 

Their gazes stayed on each other for a while after that, and she couldn’t remember the last time her heart and mind felt so light. 

A westward train pulled in. She frowned once it departed, realizing it must’ve been his ticket out of here. 

Someone tapped on her shoulder. 

She knew it was him before her gaze landed on his dimples. 

“Fancy an eastbound train instead?” she asked before he could so much as utter a hello. 

His smile invited one of her own. “Will you be on it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then it’s the only train I’m getting on today.”