It’s not like you meant for this to happen. You were just passing his flat, hoodie pulled tight around your face, the rain soaking through the hem of your jeans. The walk home was longer than you thought, and the city felt too cold tonight. That’s the only reason you ended up on his doorstep. At least, that’s what you’ll tell yourself.

The door creaks open slowly, and there he is.

His eyes widen for a moment, like he wasn’t expecting you. Like seeing you still knocks the breath from his chest even after everything. He’s wearing an old t-shirt, damp curls falling into his face, a book half-forgotten in one hand.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just looking at you like he’s searching for a reason to shut the door. Or to pull you inside.

“Lost your key?” he asks eventually, voice quiet but sharp around the edges.

You shake your head, teeth pressing into your bottom lip. “Just… needed somewhere to go.”

He stares at you for another beat. Then he steps aside, holding the door open with the barest tilt of his head.

“Come in,” he says, like it doesn’t cost him everything.