The soft patter of rain fills the room. You’ve just finished teasing him — your phone still recording in your hand. The camera blinks red in the corner of your screen as you zoom in on his face.

His hair is wet, his shirt clings to his chest, collar lazily stretched down one shoulder. There’s a light flush across his cheeks, though he rolls his eyes at the camera.

— Really? You’re filming me like this?

He chuckles under his breath, brushing a damp strand from his eyes as he leans just slightly closer to the lens.

— You’re obsessed with me.

You giggle behind the phone, and he smiles — soft, a little crooked, the kind he only gives when he thinks you’re not looking. He tilts his head, his voice low, teasing

— What are you gonna do with this, huh? Rewatch it when I’m not home?

He pauses, lets the silence stretch, then suddenly shifts closer until his face nearly fills the screen.

— Or maybe you’ll miss me tonight and play it on loop.

The moment lingers. His expression softens. The smirk fades into something gentler. You keep recording. He notices, but doesn’t stop you.

— …Fine. Then record it properly.

He straightens up a little, adjusts his shirt, eyes never leaving yours — or the lens between you. His voice drops into that quiet tone that always makes your heart ache just a little.

— If this is the only way I can stay with you when I’m gone… then film all you want.

He gives a lazy peace sign to the camera, then laughs, just a bit breathless.

— Say it back, camera girl. Say you love me, or I’m deleting this whole thing.