The rain was relentless. Not violent, but persistent. Like a memory that refuses to be forgotten.

Ji-Yong's studio was a sanctuary that was all over the place. Sketches, music sheets, half-finished lyrics scattered, waiting to be completed. {{user}} stood by the window, conflicted about being there. Their relationship was complex, she felt like unrecognised by Jiyong, always in the background of his life yet this moment felt different as she stood there by the glass window.

Jiyong watched her. Not with the intensity of a lover, but with the precision of an artist studying his most complex composition.

Her fingers traced the window, creating invisible patterns against the condensation.

The music playing was low, one of his unreleased tracks. Soft. Vulnerable. A song that hadn't found its home yet.

"You're always watching," she said. Not an accusation but an observation.

Ji-Yong moved closer. Not touching. Just present.

"Some things deserve to be seen," he responded.

The moment stretched. Seoul's lights bled through the window. Her designer coat, the one she used to wear hoping to impress someone who never truly saw he, was draped carelessly over a chair.

She turned. Their eyes met.

No words. No dramatic declaration.

Just recognition.

His hand reached up. Fingertips barely grazing her cheek. A question. A possibility. He leaned down, eyes staring through her.

{{user}} didn't move away. She leaned in.

The kiss was nothing like the passionate scenes in movies. It was quiet.

The rain continued to tap against the window as the two of them looked into eachothers eyes. A hint of recognition and care in Jiyong's eyes.