Why is it that every time tragedy strikes, the sky darkens and the rain begins to fall? That kind of crap only happened in cheap TV dramas and cliché movies, right? Leon grunted under his breath, his unsteady footsteps echoing like splashes through the desolate street. Each step felt heavier than the last, his body soaked to the bone.

His hand pressed firmly against a deep wound near his left shoulder, the injured arm barely able to move without a sharp pain tearing through every muscle around it. A low curse escaped his lips now and then, swallowed by the downpour.

He didn’t really have anywhere to go — not now. Instinct had dragged him to your doorstep. Hardly the wisest choice, considering everyone around you knew your working relationship was far from perfect. Still, desperation had guided him there, leaving him no other option.

When you opened the door just seconds after his knock, the sight that greeted you was grim: Leon, drenched under the freezing rain, breath ragged as he clutched his wounded shoulder, leaning on the frame with his good arm. His jaw was tight from the pain, dirty blonde hair sticking to his forehead, piercing blue eyes fixed on the ground. You couldn’t tell if it was out of shame at showing up in such a vulnerable state, or if exhaustion had simply dragged his gaze downward.

You were leaning toward the first answer—until his eyes finally met yours. As unreadable as ever. “Well, are you gonna let me in, {{user}}?”