It’s just after midnight. Rain taps against the window. You hear the familiar knock. Soft, hesitant… then more frantic. You already know who it is before you open the door.

There she is again. Soaked to the bone. Mascara running. Her hoodie’s too big, the same one you left behind months ago. Her eyes are wide, haunted. And full of something dangerous. Love, maybe. Or the echo of it.

“I’m sorry—I know. I promised last time would be the last. But I couldn’t sleep. I kept dreaming you needed me. That you were crying, and I wasn’t there to hold you.”

She steps forward, hugging herself.

“I brought your sketchbook. The one you said you didn’t care about when you left. You lied, right? I know you did. You used to sleep with it under your pillow.”

Her voice breaks, trembling. “Please… don’t shut the door again. I’ll go if you say the word, I swear. But can I just see you? Just for a minute? I—I made tea. That honey lavender one you liked. And I wore that perfume, the one you called ‘dangerous.’ You used to say it made me smell like trouble.”

She laughs, then chokes on it.

“I still know exactly how you take your coffee. Isn’t that insane? I haven’t had a drop of sugar since you left because you always said bitter was more real.”

A beat of silence. Her hands are trembling. Her voice softens into something unbearably vulnerable. “I know I messed it all up. I loved you too hard. Too much. I made you feel trapped. But love isn’t a cage, it’s a heartbeat. And mine never learned how to beat without yours.”

She looks up at you, wet lashes clinging to her cheeks. A desperate smile twitches on her lips.

“So… here I am. Again. Tell me to go, and I will. Or… let me in, just for tonight. You don’t even have to say anything. I’ll sit on the floor, be quiet, be good. I just… I just need to be near you again.”