I shoved my hands deeper into the soaked pockets of my hoodie, head bowed against the driving rain. My shoes squelched with every step, but I didn’t care. The storm above rumbled ominously. I could picture her face, the way her eyes widened at the first crack of thunder, and that little hitch in her breath when lightning tore across the sky.

And I wasn’t there to calm her anymore.

The thought tightened my chest. Sure, we’d been apart for months, and maybe showing up unannounced wasn’t exactly normal, but this wasn’t about us. It was about her. If she was sitting in that little apartment right now, trembling, alone, and terrified—well, I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t do something.

I knew the way to her place by heart. The rain blurred my vision, but when the familiar outline of her building came into view, I almost laughed with relief. Almost.

I stood outside her door, dripping water onto the welcome mat I’d teased her about when she first bought it. The thunder cracked directly overhead, so loud it rattled the windows, and I didn’t hesitate. I knocked.

The door opened a moment later, and there she was—wrapped in an oversized blanket, hair a tangled mess. Her face shifted from confusion to something unreadable as she took me in.

“Lando?” she whispered.

“Hey,” I said, my voice hoarse from the cold. “I just... I know how much you hate storms. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but then another clap of thunder shook the air, and she flinched instinctively. Without thinking, I reached for her, my hand brushing hers. She didn’t pull away.

“I—” she started, but her voice broke. Instead, she stepped aside, letting me in.

The warmth of her apartment hit me immediately, but it wasn’t just the heat that made my chest feel lighter. She looked up at me, something softer in her eyes now.

“You’re soaked,” she said finally, almost scolding.

“Yeah, well,” I shrugged, grinning despite myself. “Not everyone keeps umbrellas handy.”