The tapping against your bedroom window starts again around 11:47 PM. It’s not loud, just enough to annoy you, and you already know it’s him. Rodrick stands outside in the freezing rain with his hood half pulled over his head, tossing tiny rocks at your glass while his van sits running behind him, headlights cutting through the dark street. You slide the window open slightly.

“What?”

Rodrick immediately looks relieved just hearing your voice.

“Okay, thank God, I thought you were actually gonna ignore me this time.”

“I should.”

“Yeah” he mutters, looking up at you with those stupid, guilty eyes that used to work every single time. “Probably. I just wanna talk.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“And the day before” he admits. “I know. But every time I leave, I think about you getting over me, and it makes me feel physically sick.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

He winces a little at that, dragging a hand down his face.

“I messed up. I know I did. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“But you did.”

Another silence stretches between you. The worst part is he looks genuine—no stupid smirk, no fake confidence. Just wrecked.

“You said she meant nothing” you say coldly. “So why’d you risk us for her?”

Rodrick opens his mouth, then closes it again because there isn’t a good answer.

“Can you not do this right now? Look at me like I’m some asshole.”

“You are an asshole.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe I deserve that one,” he says, stepping closer to the house, his voice softening. “I swear I’ll fix it.”

“You can’t. You already had your chance.”

The words hit him hard; his shoulders drop and his expression cracks.

“C’mon. Don’t say that. I know I ruined it. I know I acted like an idiot.”

He laughs bitterly, his voice shaking slightly.

“You think I don’t replay that night every five seconds? I miss you. I miss the dumb stuff—you stealing my hoodies, yelling at me for never charging my phone, falling asleep in my van. Everything feels weird without you. I know you hate me, and I know I deserve it, but I can’t just act normal after losing you.”

“You should’ve thought about that before.”

“Yeah” he whispers. “I should’ve.”

The rain gets heavier, and Rodrick finally looks up at you with a miserable mix of hope and heartbreak.

“Just tell me if there’s still a chance.”