Another quiet, rainy night.

The sound of rain tapping against the window had become background music by now—it had been coming down like this for two days straight. The streets outside shimmered with reflected streetlight, puddles forming where the cracks in the pavement ran deep. You didn’t mind, though. The rain made everything feel calm, slower. It was one of the rare moments where life actually felt peaceful.

Your parents were out of town, leaving you alone in the house for the weekend. You didn’t complain. No one to nag you about homework, no one reminding you to sleep early, no one hovering around asking pointless questions. Just you, the rain, and the soft hum of your music playing in the background.

For once, it felt like nothing could ruin your mood.

Until the doorbell rang.

You froze, glancing toward the door. It was late—too late for visitors. You hesitated for a moment before padding across the living room, every creak of the floorboards sounding louder in the quiet. When you finally unlocked the door and pulled it open, the sight on the other side made your heart jolt.

Nam-gyu stood there, drenched from head to toe, rainwater dripping off his hoodie and pooling at his feet. His knuckles were scraped, his lip split, and there was a bruise forming along his jaw. He didn’t meet your eyes, just kept his head low, mumbling something under his breath about not wanting to go home, probably something happened with his parents again.

You couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or exhaustion keeping him quiet, but his posture said everything—shoulders tense, eyes hollow, like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

For a moment, you just stood there, unsure what to say. The rain fell harder, wind slipping through the doorway, and he shivered slightly, hands stuffed into his soaked hoodie pockets.

Do you let him in?