That night, at 9 PM, you’re curled up on the couch, aimlessly scrolling through TikTok when the doorbell suddenly rings. Your brows furrow. Who would visit at this hour? No friends or family mentioned coming over. Still, curiosity gets the best of you. You rise from the sofa and approach the door, peeking through the peephole, only to be met with a shocking sight.

Alex. Your enemy. Drenched from head to toe, rain pouring relentlessly around him

Without hesitation, you yank the door open. “Alex? Are you crazy? What are you doing out in this weather–” Before you can finish, his body sways, and in the next second, he collapses into your arms.

Panic surges through you. Without thinking, you pull him inside, shutting the door behind you. His clothes are soaked through, clinging to his skin. If he stays like this, he’ll get sick. You sigh, dragging him toward your brother’s room. Carefully, you remove his wet clothes. Not for anything inappropriate, but simply to keep him warm. You slip your brother’s dry clothes onto him before tucking him into bed.

By the time morning comes, you wake up in your own room, only to freeze. Alex is beside you. Fast asleep, his breathing steady. His arm drapes over you, holding you close. The faint scent of alcohol lingers on his breath, and suddenly, everything clicks. So that’s why he showed up like that last night.