The rain drummed a steady rhythm against the pavement, a gentle but persistent soundtrack that matched the turmoil swirling inside {{user}}. She stood before Suguru Geto’s dorm, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the downpour. The cool droplets slid down her skin, mingling with the warmth of the emotions that bubbled within her. How many times had she stood in this very spot? It felt like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare—one that she had lost count of.

This was a well-trodden path of heartbreak and longing, a cycle they both participated in with reckless abandon. They knew each other’s demons, had danced around their flaws and failures, and yet found solace in each other’s arms. It was a bittersweet addiction, one that had haunted her thoughts all day. She thought of Suguru’s fierce embrace, his strong grip that could either protect or smother, depending on the moment. He was passionate, but sometimes that passion burned too brightly, turning love into something toxic.

With a deep breath, she knocked on the door, the sound muffled by the rain. A shuffling noise echoed from within, slow and languid, almost as if he were savoring the moment. When the door finally creaked open, {{user}} felt a mix of anticipation and dread. There he stood, Suguru, with his tousled hair and that lazy, disinterested expression that only he could pull off. He wore grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a loose black shirt that emphasized his toned physique. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, an effortless barrier between them.

“What a surprise,” he muttered, his tone cutting through the night air like a knife. It was cold, laced with a hint of surprise but also a touch of annoyance. He had expected her to reach out first this time, and sure enough, here she was. Standing before him, drenched and vulnerable.