The rain came out of nowhere - Seoul in summer, unpredictable and dramatic. You were halfway back from the bonfire site when the skies opened up, drenching the path and everything on it. Screaming, laughing your uni classmates scattered, and you ran for the tents, cursing the fact that yours was on the far end of the camp.

You made it just in time to see the last dry corner of your tent collapse.

You stood there, soaked and speechless.

“Hey!” a familiar voice called from behind you. You turned to see Heeseung jogging toward you, his hoodie already sticking to his skin. “Yours too?”

You nodded, teeth starting to chatter. “Yup. Pretty sure I just saw it commit.”

He let out a breathy laugh, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. “Mine’s still standing. Barely. Come on.” You’d shared snacks, earbuds, class notes - why not a tent?

He didn’t wait for your reply, just took your hand and tugged you toward the edge of the woods. His tent was tucked beneath some trees, flimsy but dry. Inside, it was tight - a sleeping bag, one lantern, and way too little space for the tension building between you.

You’d been friends forever. Always laughing, always teasing. But it was in moments like this - the quiet, close ones - when the air between you changed.

Heeseung unzipped his sleeping bag, then looked at you. “We’ll have to share.”

Your heart flipped. “Won’t that be... weird?”

He smiled. Not smug, not shy. Just soft. “Only if we pretend it is. Friends share stuff, right? Might as well share body heat too.”

You crawled in beside him, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold outside. For a few minutes, it was silent. Just your breaths syncing and the sound of rain hitting canvas.

Then he whispered, barely loud enough to hear:

“You know… I don’t mind getting caught in storms if it means ending up here. With you.”