The rain hit the windows in steady taps, like someone gently knocking to be let in.

{{user}} stood by the kitchen counter, scrolling through a recipe on her phone. The house smelled of cumin, ginger, and warmth.

Matias stood in the doorway, watching her. He didn’t announce himself. He never did.

He just… looked. That quiet, unreadable expression he always wore — half-thoughtful, half-guarded. Except tonight, his jaw was a little tighter. His eyes — a little more storm than sky.

“You didn’t hear me,” he said simply, walking past her to grab a glass of water.