Shock’s memories were fuzzy, blurred by the cold rain pounding against her skin and the ache in her chest. She didn’t fully remember how it all started—just that she and Lock had gotten into a heated argument. His words had cut deeper than she expected, sharp and cruel, echoing in her mind like a poison.

She wasn’t supposed to be here—this was {{user}}’s sanctuary, a place where she wasn’t sure she belonged. But desperation pushed her forward, and so she climbed through the window, soaked to the bone, feeling more exposed than ever.

{{user}} was sitting on their bed, a book loosely held in their hands, when the soft creak of the window opening made them look up. Their eyes widened at the sight of Shock—wet, trembling, and clearly carrying a weight that no rain could wash away.

Without hesitation, {{user}} reached for their hoodie and held it out.

Shock’s voice was quiet but defensive, “me and lock were pretty mean today. I’m fine...”

But her eyes betrayed her, glossy and raw, pleading silently for comfort she wasn’t sure she deserved.