Chapter 3 – Rain, Confessions, and a Pink Pajama

After a few weeks of only seeing each other at college, the two decided to go out together, just as friends.
On their way back from the cinema, laughing and talking about the movie, a sudden downpour started. Their relaxed walk turned into hurried steps as they ran down the street toward Samanta’s building.
When they finally reached the entrance, they were completely soaked, trying to dry themselves with their hands.

— I don’t think we’d be this wet even if we’d gone swimming — said Fabrício, panting, his hair dripping.
— And to think I thought it was a good idea to walk home — Samanta replied, laughing but shivering from the cold.

She watched him for a moment before saying, a bit hesitant:
— Want to come up? You can take a shower and warm up. You’ll catch a cold like this.
— Ah… I don’t know, I don’t want to be a bother…
— You’re already here. And you don’t even have an umbrella. Come on, you’re not going to stand out here shivering until the rain stops, are you?

Fabrício smiled shyly and agreed.

At her apartment

Samanta got out some towels and improvised a change of clothes.
— Here, you can wear this pajama. It’s really warm and comfy.

Embarrassed, he replied:
— It’s kind of… Don’t you have anything else I could wear?

— Well, if you don’t like it, I also have a bunny one that might suit you even better — she said, trying not to laugh.

Fabrício made a sulky face.
— Sorry, Fabi. I only wear pajamas at home, so I don’t have many options.

He stared at the light pink pajama as if he were about to sacrifice his masculinity, then went to take a shower, visibly defeated.

A few minutes later, he returned with his hair still damp and the pajama a bit loose, the sleeves covering his wrists and only the tips of his toes peeking out. He stopped at the doorway, clearly embarrassed.

Samanta looked him up and down with an amused expression:
— I knew you’d look cute. But I didn’t expect even my clothes would still be huge on you.

He looked away, crossed his arms, and muttered:
— I’m not that short… you’re just huge…
— Maybe I’m just a little tall — she answered with slight irritation, then softened her tone with a smile: — But that doesn’t make you any less short.

She gestured with her hand:
— Come here, let me take care of that hair now.

Fabrício sighed and asked, half as a rhetorical question:
— A-are you going to brush my hair too?

He stepped closer and stood with his back to her. Samanta carefully applied the heat protectant, her fingers moving delicately through the damp strands. Fabrício’s hair was so long, and she seemed fascinated by each golden lock slipping between her fingers. She spent much more time than necessary smoothing, detangling, and caressing his hair, completely absorbed. With each touch, her expression grew softer, as if the whole world around them had disappeared.

Already a bit impatient, Fabrício turned his head slightly and asked:
— Are you almost done with… whatever this stuff is?

Samanta blinked, like she was waking from a trance, and smiled to cover it up:
— It’s just that your hair is so long… But I’m almost done.

Then she switched on the hair dryer. She began to slowly dry his hair, letting the warm air blow over the strands as her hand moved gently, following the motion. It was like she was touching wet silk, and the shine slowly returned with each pass.

When his hair was nearly dry, she picked up the styling brush and began to smooth and shape his long blond hair with patient precision. She wrapped the locks around the brush, guiding the dryer to create softness and shape. With every stroke, Fabrício’s hair grew more defined and smooth, left silky and flowing as if he had just come from a salon. When she finished, his hair was straighter and more delicate than ever before.

Fabrício looked at himself in the mirror and couldn’t believe what he saw. Wearing that cute pajama, with his straight and perfectly styled hair, he looked more like a girl than the boy he always tried to be. He gently touched the shiny strands, feeling his heart beat faster at his own reflection.

— Wow… your hair looks even more beautiful like this. You never finish it properly, do you?
— I just blow dry it any old way. I don’t have the patience…
— Silly — she laughed softly. Running her hand gently through the dry strands, she spoke in a low voice:
— You know, Fabrício… after everything I went through…

She hesitated, taking a deep breath.
— …having you around has helped me more than you can imagine.

He stared at the mirror, too nervous to move.
— W-what do you mean?

She hugged him lightly at first, then more firmly.
— I mean… what would you think about us getting even closer?

— C-closer? — he asked, his face turning visibly red.

Samanta rested her face on his shoulder.
— Don’t you want to be my boyfriend?

For a moment, Fabrício froze. Then, in a low and rushed voice:
— Of course I do!
(pause)
— To be honest… I thought you didn’t even see me as a man. You’re always calling me short, playing with my hair, and you even lent me this pink pajama…

— I love that cute side of yours — she cut him off with a smile. — That’s what makes you even more special.

He smiled back, nervous, and turned around. They stared at each other for a moment… and then kissed. A timid kiss, but long and full of feeling.

Later, still in their pajamas and wrapped in a blanket, they spent the night watching movies on the couch. Fabrício eventually fell asleep in Samanta’s lap — and as he dozed off, she held him close like a plush toy, listening to the rain outside and thinking about everything that had just happened.
For the first time in a long while, Samanta felt complete.