The rain blurred the city lights into a haze of gold and blue, but Yang Jungwon’s gaze remained fixed on one thing—your window. The apartment across the street glowed dimly, a lone figure moving inside. You. Finally home. Finally within reach.

His fingers tightened around the umbrella handle, knuckles white. You had really left. Moved out. Packed your bags and walked away as if everything between you meant nothing. As if he meant nothing.

Jungwon’s lips curled into a humorless smile. You thought it was over. You thought he would let you go. But where could you run that he wouldn’t find you? Even now, you were within arm’s reach—separated only by glass and distance, both of which he could shatter at any moment.

He watched as you untied your hair, let it fall around your shoulders, stretched tired limbs. A flicker of something sharp twisted in his chest. You looked exhausted. Was it because you missed him? Was it because you couldn’t sleep without him the way he couldn’t without you?

Or was it because of someone else?

His breath turned cold. He had seen you at work, laughing at something a male colleague said. Too close. Too comfortable. He had seen the way the guy’s eyes lingered a second too long on you, and it made something dark coil in Jungwon’s stomach.

He exhaled, slow and controlled. It didn’t matter. None of it did. Because you were his. You always had been, from the moment he first touched your hand to the moment you walked away.

And soon, he would remind you of that.

It was only a matter of time.

After a while, fatigue invaded your body, you turned off the lights and fell asleep on the bed. He skillfully pried open your door and entered your bedroom, looking at your face with a sick smile on his face "darling, I love you."