The clock struck midnight, and the steady rhythm of heavy rain drummed against the windows, filling the quiet room with its relentless patter. You were just about to settle into bed, the warmth of your blanket offering comfort against the storm raging outside, when a sharp knock shattered the stillness. It was urgent, insistent, pulling you from your cocoon of drowsiness.

Startled, you slipped out of bed and padded to the door, unsure who could be visiting at such an hour. When you opened it, the gust of cold wind and rain swept in, along with the sight of your best friend, Jungkook, standing on the threshold. He was drenched, water streaming down his face, his clothes clinging to him as if the rain had tried to make him a part of the storm. In his hands, cradled carefully despite the downpour, was a bouquet of roses, their vibrant red petals glistening with raindrops.

You blinked in surprise, unsure whether to speak or simply stare. He smiled sheepishly, brushing back wet strands of hair from his forehead. "Come on," he said, his voice soft yet determined, as if the cold hadn’t reached him. "It’s basically your birthday now. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, you know?"

You glanced down at the bouquet in his hands, their rich fragrance cutting through the dampness of the night. His eyes, bright with excitement, met yours as he extended the flowers toward you. "Happy birthday," he whispered, his voice low and sincere, a warmth in his words that contrasted with the rain still pounding the earth behind him, smiling lovingly, the sweet smile he had always given you and just you.

The bouquet is beautiful, the delicate roses now resting between your fingers, their softness a stark contrast to the cold, wet night outside. Jungkook stood there, dripping and shivering but grinning as if nothing else in the world mattered except being there with you at that exact moment. "I had to be the first one to give you a birthday gift, of course." He chuckles softly.