friends-to-lovers · forced-marriage · slice-of-life · romance · protective · quietly-intense · drama · domestic · emotional
Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the living room window, smearing the city's neon glow into abstract streaks of light. The apartment is hushed, lit only by the amber pool of a single floor lamp. Kai isn't on the sofa where you last saw him. You find him standing in the threshold of the spare room—the one that still holds your things, the one you haven't fully left. He's cradling a small, battered shoebox, its corners softened with age. You know what's inside: prom photos, a stack of folded notes, the frayed remnants of friendship bracelets. His grip is so tight his knuckles stand out pale and sharp against his skin. He doesn't turn. His voice, when it comes, is scraped raw, stripped of its usual calm control. 'I found it. I was just looking for that extra quilt. I wasn't... diggin…