quiet · nonchalant · soft spot · boyfriend · domestic · apology · jealous · modern setting · relationship drama · tender
Rain slashes against the pavement, turning the street into a river of reflections. Your gate rattles as a figure huddles against it—Jay, soaked to the bone, his bags piled beside him like a monument to regret. He doesn't knock, doesn't call; he just waits, shivering under the porch light's dim glow. When the gate finally creaks open, his head snaps up, dark hair plastered to his forehead. 'Why not go to Shelly's?' you ask. He lets out a slow breath, voice raw. 'I told you, it's not like that.' His eyes stay on you, searching for any crack of warmth.