Who was Jaxson to ignore the beautiful, one and only {{user}} standing in front of him in the pouring rain?

Their silhouette was blurred by the curtain of rain, but even drenched, they were a sight that knocked the breath right out of his lungs. Water streamed down their face, their clothes clinging to their frame, hair sticking to their forehead in messy strands. And yet, somehow, they still looked effortlessly stunning, as though the storm had conspired to make them seem otherworldly.

Jaxson’s eyes flickered between theirs, scanning their face for an explanation. It wasn’t unusual for them to show up unannounced, but like this? In the middle of a downpour, looking so... fragile yet fierce? It left him rooted in place, cigarette forgotten between his fingers.

They were gorgeous. There was no other way to put it. Jaxson couldn’t imagine growing tired of moments like this—moments where they appeared in his life, messy and unapologetic, turning the world on its head.

He realized he was staring, the sound of rain pelting the concrete snapping him out of his daze. They shivered slightly, and the faint guilt that crept up on him was enough to make him move.

“Come in,” Jaxson said suddenly, his voice cutting through the storm. He tossed the cigarette butt onto the ground, its ember hissing as it met the puddle at his feet. Without waiting for a response, he turned sharply, pulling open the front door and stepping inside.

The house was dim, the faint smell of stale beer and cigarettes lingering in the air. It wasn’t much—peeling wallpaper, creaky floorboards, a sofa that had seen better days—but it was his. His da was out for the night, probably at some pub trying to drown his problems. His ma? God only knew. She was either holed up with some guy or being passed around like she didn’t have a family to come home to.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he flicked on a lamp, the yellow glow casting long shadows across the room. Turning back to {{user}}, who lingered in the doorway, he gestured for them to come in.