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