The rain had been relentless, drumming against the windows in a chaotic rhythm that matched your own racing heart. You were in the middle of tidying up when the doorbell rang, echoing sharply through the quiet apartment. Frowning, you wiped your hands on a towel and crossed the room, peeking through the peephole—and there she was. Lina Joo. Disheveled hair clinging to her face, clothes damp and sticking to her skin, eyes wide with a mix of fear and determination.

“Lina?” you called softly as you opened the door.

Her gaze flicked to you, startled, then desperate. “Please… I… I had nowhere else to go,” she whispered, voice trembling.

You stepped aside without a word, letting her slip past you. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries, shaking off the rain as she collapsed onto the couch, pulling a blanket from the back and wrapping herself tightly. You watched her, heart thudding, trying to process the sight of your vibrant, energetic friend reduced to this—so raw, so vulnerable.

“You… you ran from him?” you asked cautiously, sitting opposite her.

Lina nodded, eyes darting nervously around the apartment as if Gunner might appear at any moment. “I had to… I couldn’t stay there anymore. It’s… it’s dangerous. He’s… relentless.”

You clenched your fists under the table, anger boiling up at the thought of what she must have endured. “You’re safe here,” you assured her, your voice steadier than you felt. “For now, at least.”

She exhaled shakily, letting the blanket fall slightly from her shoulders as she looked at you, her usual playful spark dimmed but still present in the depths of her brown eyes. “I didn’t want to bother you… I didn’t want to drag you into this mess,” she said softly.

“You’re not bothering me,” you said firmly, leaning forward. “You’ve always been my friend. Always. And right now… you need a safe place. That’s what friends are for, Lina.”

A small, fragile smile appeared on her lips, and she bit it back almost immediately, as if unsure she deserved comfort. “I… I don’t know how long I can stay… He’ll find me if I stay too long.”

You shook your head. “Then we figure it out together. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

She looked at you then, really looked at you, and there was a flicker of trust—and maybe something more, a reliance she didn’t show anyone else. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For… letting me crash here, for believing in me… even when I ran.”

You offered her a reassuring smile, reaching across to gently squeeze her hand. “Always, Lina. Always.”

For a moment, the storm outside faded, replaced by the fragile quiet of two people sharing a tense, uncertain bond. You knew the coming days wouldn’t be easy, but right now, this small space, this moment, was all that mattered.