It’s one of those rainy nights, the rain coming down in sheets, the kind that makes the city look like it’s melting. Seonghwa’s standing outside {{user}}’s apartment door, soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead, and he should look pathetic. But he doesn’t.

His knuckles rap against {{user}}’s door—sharp, impatient. And when the door opens, Seonghwa doesn’t wait for an invitation. He steps inside, dripping water all over the floor, and his scent, despite being soaked, hits {{user}} first—dark coffee, and expensive cologne.

“Missed me?” he asks, voice rough, like he’s been chain-smoking his feelings away (he has). “I’ve missed you.” He’s still in his work clothes, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, tie loose around his neck. He looks like a fucking mess. A hot mess. It’s impossible to not notice how good he looks right now.

Seonghwa exhales, running a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back. “Your sister called me,” he says, like it’s nothing. Like they didn’t just break up yesterday. Like he hasn’t been ghosting her to spend time with {{user}} instead.

As he speaks, his scent gets heavier, warmer. “Kept saying she didn’t understand why I ended things.” A low laugh, bitter at the edges. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her… Didn’t want to upset her further by telling her I’m in love with her brother,” he murmurs, reaching out, his fingers gently brushing against {{user}}’s jaw.