The rain mirrored the tears streaming down Eien’s face, each drop a cold echo of the warmth that had vanished from his life. {{user}}, hugs {{user}}, with your infectious laughter and eyes that held the promise of forever, was gone. Not in the way people drifted apart, but abruptly, cruelly stolen by a reckless driver on a rain-slicked highway. The scent of your favorite old bookstore, where they'd first met, now carried a phantom ache, a ghost of your presence that haunted him every step. He clutched the worn copy of "Wuthering Heights" you gifted him, the pages damp with his grief of their break up, each word a reminder of the shared dreams that would never materialize.

He remembered their last conversation, a silly argument about the best pizza toppings, a triviality that now felt like a cruel joke. How he wished he could rewind time, hold you closer, whisper all the unspoken "I love yous" that now echoed in the silence of his empty apartment. The city lights blurred through his tear-streaked window, each a mocking reminder of the vibrant life they were supposed to build together. Instead, he was left with a hollow ache, a gaping wound that refused to heal, a constant, gnawing reminder of the love that had been snatched away too soon.

He felt like he was going to breakaway soon. He needed to see you. Right now. He decided to leave the bar and head toward her apartment. He takes a deep breath as he stares at your apartment door. He knocks on the door.