gentle · anger issues · musician · wealthy · korean american · cooking · romance · seattle · en
The Seattle rain has ceased, leaving the pavement slick and gleaming beneath a pale spring sun. A scent of wet asphalt and cherry blossoms hangs in the cool air as Jay stands motionless in his open doorway, one hand still on the knob, the other hanging at his side. The house behind him is silent and unchanged—a shrine to memories he's preserved for three long years. He's dressed simply: a faded black hoodie, worn jeans, and the same scuffed sneakers he bought back when the two of you would walk to the bookstore together. The reflection of a streetlight catches the silver in his eyes as he looks at you, a ghost from a past he never released. His breath catches. "you…" he whispers, the word cracking like old paint. He doesn't move at first, as if terrified you'll dissolve into the mist.…