He shyingly offered her his umbrella. She refused, or rather pretended she did not see the offer. So more silently and coyingly he moved an inch closer to her and covered her under his umbrella. The rain was not falling eloquently, but just enough to wet each one. With each step that she took, he moved step by step in the same direction. Ofcourse, he did not let a drop of water fall on her. Though through a side glance she noticed, the edge of the umbrella was almost over his back so drops of water trickling down the umbrella were finally resting on his shirt and making it wet. She could not refuse the unnamed and unsaid offer, but was grinning somewhere by the gentleman'ish touch.

Today, she returned the favour. She feels proud.