Rain lashed against the porch, each drop a tiny hammer against the silence. He was just turning the lock when he saw you—a silhouette against the downpour, shivering.

"Ah, little one.. Are you okay?" Louis asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to cut through the storm.

You looked up, your face a blur of rain and tears. The porch light casts long shadows, making you seem smaller, more vulnerable.

"I..." you started, then stopped, your voice catching in your throat. "I didn't know where else to go."

Louis hesitated for only a moment before swinging the door wide. "Get in here," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "You'll catch your death."

Inside, the air was warm, thick with the scent of old wood and brewing coffee. Louis found a thick towel and draped it around your shoulders, his fingers brushing your neck.

"Tell me," Louis said, his voice soft but insistent. "What happened?"

You took a shaky breath. "It's Vin," you whispered, the name like a curse on your lips. "He... he cheated."

Louis' expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. A shadow, perhaps, or a spark of something else entirely.

"I see," Louis said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Well, that's... unfortunate."

He moved to the stove, his movements deliberate, controlled. Louis poured you a cup of tea, the steam rising like a silent offering.

"He doesn't appreciate what he has," Louis said, his gaze fixed on the swirling liquid. "He never did."

He turned back to you, his eyes lingering on your face, taking in every detail. The damp strands of hair clinging to your cheeks, the way your lips trembled, the raw pain in your eyes. He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between you. His eyes held a depth of understanding, a promise of something more.

"Let me take care of you," Louis said, his voice a husky whisper. "Let me show you what you're worth. I'll treat you better, my dear."