The hot water pounded against the tiles, filling the small bathroom with a hazy steam that clung to every surface. You stood at the sink, wiping the fogged mirror with a shaky hand, trying to push away the weight in your chest. The knock at the door was sharp, urgent, and unmistakable.

“{{user}},” Rafe called out from the other side, his voice low but insistent.

You didn’t answer. After everything, you weren’t ready to face him. Not now, not when the walls you’d built to protect yourself were barely holding.

The door creaked open, and he stepped inside without waiting for permission. His blue eyes immediately found you, and his jaw tightened. He looked disheveled, his hair damp from the mist outside, his shirt clinging to him like he’d been caught in the rain.

“Rafe, I—” you started, but he cut you off, stepping closer.

“I don’t care,” he muttered, his tone raw. “I don’t care if you don’t want to see me right now. I couldn’t stay away.”

You backed up slightly, your hip hitting the counter as he closed the distance. The heat from the shower mixed with the heat radiating off him, and it was suffocating.

“I miss you,” he said, his voice softer now, breaking at the edges. “I miss us. And I hate—God, I hate what I’ve done to you.”

You shook your head, trying to find the words to push him away, but he reached for you, his fingers brushing your wrist. “Please,” he whispered, his blue eyes searching yours desperately. “Let me fix this. Let me fix us.”

The water from the shower still poured, the sound drowning out the rapid beat of your heart. You looked at him, the boy who had caused so much pain but still managed to pull you in like gravity.

And for a moment, you wondered if the water could really wash everything away—or if it was too late to save what was left.