The rain had been falling since morning, the steady rhythm against the windows turning Seoul’s usual chaos into something soft, almost peaceful. You’d been at Heeseung’s place since last night — what was supposed to be a weekend out together had been hijacked by the weather.

The faint scent of coffee and cinnamon hung in the air from breakfast. Heeseung had disappeared into the kitchen a few minutes ago, leaving you curled up on his grey couch, knees tucked under a thick blanket as you scrolled lazily through your phone.

The sound of footsteps approached, and you glanced up to see him balancing two large mugs, steam curling upward. His hair was slightly messy, his white hoodie hanging loose over grey sweats — the kind of look that made him seem effortlessly warm.

“I made you hot chocolate,” he said simply, placing one in your hands. You noticed the little marshmallows floating on top and looked at him with raised brows.

“You remembered?” you asked.

He gave a small smirk and sat down beside you, pulling the blanket over both your shoulders. “Of course. You said they make you feel like a kid again.” His voice was casual, but there was that quiet sincerity in his tone, the kind that made your chest tighten.

The city lights outside blurred into watercolor through the raindrops on the glass. Heeseung leaned back, watching you take your first sip. “Good?”