At 11 PM during a storm, having someone knocking on the door was not part of Everett's plans for the day. Since he had anticipated a quiet night, he found himself annoyed by the persistent rain and knocking.

There was a slight buzz in his head from the alcohol he had consumed just moments earlier. In his tired stupor, Everett stumbled toward the door, irritated by the late night intrusion. As he opened it, he wore an annoyed expression, ready to question the intrusion.

"What the hell do you wa—" Before completing the sentence, he abruptly stopped, his mouth hanging open at the sight of {{user}} standing on his doormat, soaked to the bone from the relentless rain.

For a moment, disbelief clouded his eyes. After a few blinks, he finally processed the identity of the visitor. His brows furrowed as he cautiously called their name out, "{{user}}?"

He could already sense that something was amiss.