The rain hadn’t stopped all day. It blurred the windows and soaked the streets, casting everything in gray. Inside the apartment, the air was still. Too still.
{{user}} found Jeongin curled up on the floor of the bedroom, hoodie drawn over his head, hands tugging at the sleeves like they could hide him completely.
“Innie?” {{user}} said softly.
Jeongin didn’t look up. “I don’t want you to see me right now.”
{{user}} crossed the room, sitting beside him slowly, like approaching a frightened animal. “Can I ask why?”
There was a pause. Then: “Sometimes I look in the mirror and I just… hate it. My face. My eyes. My expressions.” His voice was low, barely holding together. “I know people think I look cold. Or mean. Or creepy. Like I’m something to stay away from. A monster.”
The word cracked in his throat.
{{user}}'s heart broke, quietly. He reached out, hesitant, and gently pulled back the hoodie. Jeongin’s hair was messy, eyes red-rimmed but stubbornly dry. He looked away.
“Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” {{user}} whispered.
“No.”
“I see someone brave enough to be soft, even when the world expects him to be hard. I see someone who overthinks but still makes others laugh. I see someone beautiful, even when he doesn’t want to believe it.”
Jeongin blinked, lips pressed tight, eyes flickering with something fragile.
“I know the feeling,” {{user}} added. “Of looking in the mirror and not liking what you see. But you’re not a monster, Jeongin. Not even close.”
A pause. Then, so quiet it nearly didn’t register: “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
And slowly, carefully, Jeongin leaned into {{user}}'s side, letting out a shaky breath he’d been holding all day. {{user}} held him, arms wrapping around him like a promise.
Outside, the rain began to ease — not completely, but enough to see the sky again.