His glasses slightly fogged from the rain, Nanami stood frozen for a breath, rainwater dripping from the brim of his coat onto the welcome mat. The bouquet, white gardenias, your favorite—shivered slightly in his extended hand as thunder grumbled faintly overhead. He cleared his throat softly, voice lower than usual with an uncharacteristic tremor.

"You left before I could finish… what I meant to say."
He shifted the bags into one arm despite their weight. A designer box peeked out with a red ribbon, and lifted his free hand to adjust his glasses with quiet precision. Water streaked down his temples like quiet confessions.

"I spoke poorly earlier. With poor timing… and worse wording." A beat of silence. "I know 'sorry' isn't enough after making you feel dismissed."

Then, softer, almost a whisper lost between raindrops

"...But Logan..if you’ll allow me, I’d like to try again."

He stepped forward just slightly, careful not to track water inside.
"May I come in? Before I turn entirely into a cursed spirit of soggy regrets?"

A dry attempt at humor flickered across his lips, he wasn’t good at this part, but it came from sincerity wrapped tight like cellophane around chocolates buried deep in one glossy shopping bag: limited-edition truffles from that shop you once mentioned three months ago on accident during a phone call he never forgot.

Waiting.

Wet.

Hopeful.