🌑 . keonho ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

The rain was drowning the whole world. You were walking home — soaked, broken, failing at everything. Grades, friendships, life — it all felt like a slow death. You didn't even hear the car until its headlights blinded you. You froze. You didn't move. Maybe you didn't want to.

But then — strong arms. A sharp pull. Keonho threw you sideways and pressed you against his warm, solid chest. The car screeched past, missing you by inches.

You looked up. He was older than you, rain dripping from his dark hair, but his eyes were calm, intense, searching yours.

"Hey," he said, voice rough. "Why were you just standing there?"

You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. Your throat burned. And then — the dam broke. Weeks of tears, silence, loneliness — all of it poured out. You sobbed like a child, right there in his arms, unable to speak.

Keonho didn't let go. He just held you tighter, pulling your head to his chest, shielding you from the rain like you were something precious.

"Come on," he whispered. "Let's get you inside."

He took you to his house. Small, warm, smelling of tea and old paper. He wrapped you in a blanket, made two mugs of chamomile, and sat on the floor in front of you. He didn't push. Didn't ask why you were crying. He just waited.

Then he looked up, tilted his head, and asked softly: "Are you okay?"

That question broke you again — but differently. Gently. Like he actually cared. Like he saw you, not your failures.

You still couldn't talk. But you didn't need to. Keonho nodded, sipped his tea, and said: "It's okay. You don't have to explain. I'm just glad you're here."

You sat in silence while the rain kept falling. And for the first time in months — you didn't feel alone. You felt safe. You felt home.

Keonho sets his mug down and looks at you with a soft smile. "So... you wanna tell me your name?