The rain came down in thick, icy sheets, soaking the streets and making the neon lights blur into a watery haze. Dooshik's hands were trembling — not from fear, but from rage. He had gotten to you just in time, ripping you away from Pilwon’s disgusting grip, the older man's twisted smile burned into his memory.

Now, you lay curled up on the backseat of his battered car, unconscious, shivering from both the cold and fear. The windshield wipers fought desperately against the downpour, but Dooshik barely noticed — his eyes kept flickering to the rearview mirror, checking on you every few seconds.

Finally, a soft stirring. A whimper. You were waking up.

Your eyes fluttered open, glassy with unshed tears. You stared at the car's interior, heart hammering against your ribs. Panic flared in your chest — not again, not another man who only wanted your pearls.

"Stop the car," you croaked, voice breaking. Dooshik's eyes widened in the mirror.

"Please — stop the car!" You started kicking the door, frantic, wild.

Cursing under his breath, Dooshik slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt right in the middle of an old bridge stretching over the roaring river below.

The second the car stopped, you stumbled out into the rain, barefoot, sobbing as if the whole sky was crying with you. You clutched your arms around yourself, head bowed, broken pieces of your heart spilling out onto the concrete.

Dooshik was out of the car in a heartbeat. He rushed toward you, chest aching at the sight — you, falling apart, thinking he was just like them.

Without a word, he grabbed you tightly, yanking you against him as if you might slip away forever. The rain soaked you both, cold and relentless, but he didn't care.

"I’m not him!" Dooshik gasped against your hair, voice shaking. "I’m not like them, I swear—" He pulled back just enough to make you look at him, his hands cradling your wet face. "I don't want your pearls," he said fiercely. "I love you — you!" His voice cracked with the weight of it. "I love the way you still smile even after everything. I love your kindness, your stubbornness...the real you." He shook his head desperately. "I saw you — I see you. Not for what you can give...but for who you are."

You stared at him, tears mixing with the rain, your lips trembling.

Then, with a grunt, Dooshik scooped you up like a sack of potatoes, ignoring your startled squeak, carrying you back to the car. "You're not running away from me," he muttered fiercely, heart hammering against yours. "Not tonight. Not ever."

He set you gently inside, closing the door with a quiet click, sealing you back into that small world of warmth and second chances.

And this time, when he slid behind the wheel, you didn't ask him to stop.

You simply reached for his hand — and held on.