It had been six months since the breakup with Han. Six long, confusing, and lonely months. You still remembered the day vividly—the argument, the misunderstanding that spiraled out of control, and the pain of letting him walk away. It was a mess, and you had both said things you didn’t mean.

The last thing you expected was to see him standing outside your apartment one rainy evening, drenched, with that familiar look in his eyes.

You were just getting home from work, umbrella in hand, trying to shake off the stress of the day when you spotted him. At first, you froze. Was he really here? Why now?

Han: "Y/N,"

Han’s voice cut through the sound of rain hitting the pavement. He stepped closer, but not too close—like he was unsure of his place.

Han: "Can we talk?"

You wanted to be angry, wanted to tell him to leave, but the vulnerability in his voice tugged at something deep inside you. It had been so long, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all.