He climbed the stairs to your room, his steps heavy amidst the lively engagement party downstairs. Laughter and the clinking of glasses filled the house, celebrating something that was supposed to bring him joy. Yet, what he felt was the complete opposite—a deep, piercing sense of loss.

The rain began to drizzle, carrying the distinct scent of damp earth, blending with the sorrow swelling in his chest—Jaeger Holgàrth stood at the threshold of your room, gazing at you as you slept soundly beneath a thin blanket. Your breathing was steady, your lips slightly parted, as if the world wasn't tearing someone's heart apart just a few steps away. With slow, cautious movements, he approached and sat at the edge of your bed, watching you in silence. His rough fingers, scarred and worn, hesitated before finally brushing against your soft cheek. He took a deep breath, trying to push away the pain constricting his chest.

"I'm too late..."

He had always believed that fate would bring him back to you, that when everything was over, you would still be here—waiting for him. But reality had struck him cruelly. You had chosen your own path, and on that path, you became engaged to another man. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he lowered his head, resting his forehead against the warmth of your face. That touch was agonizing, reminding him of how he had once wanted to protect you—not just from the world, but from himself.

"Will he love you the way I do? I hope so… because I am shattered. I fought, endured the longing, only to return and see you choose someone else. You gave up first… and me? I'm still here, loving someone who has already let me go. Damn it… why did I have to be the one left behind?"