The rain fell thin, sticking to {{user}}’s clothes and hair when she saw him - standing across the street, his hood down, his gaze fixed on her as if he didn’t believe it was real.

The world seemed to stop. The noise of the cars, the distant sound of the city, everything dissolved between the space that separated them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she murmured, her voice trembling, even without knowing if she was talking to him or to herself.

Hughie took a step forward, his chest rising and falling fast, his eyes watery, his expression so familiar that it hurt.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, his voice hoarse and tired, “I still love you. I’ll never get you out of my system.”

The words hit her like a punch.

She wanted to say that he was wrong, that she had also already overcome it, but the lump in her throat wouldn’t let her.

He took another step forward, his gaze stuck to hers. “I believed that time would help. That I would stop seeing you everywhere. But, fuck, Lavi...” - he swallowed dry, his fingers shaking - “I still feel you in everything. In the smell of my sweatshirt, in the songs, even when I try to sleep.”

She closed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears. “You can’t say those things, Hughie. Not now.”

“Can’t I?” He hit back, with a short, broken laugh. “So what do I do with all this, huh? Pretend you weren’t the only real thing in my fucking life?”

A tense silence formed.

The rain tightened.

And before she could answer, he took another step, the warm and desperate breath between them.

“Just tell me you don’t feel anything else,” he whispered. “That I’m alone in this. Then I’m leaving.”