He was enjoying this.
The way his eyes softened every time I raised my voice, the quiet contentment in his posture — it was the same look he used to give me years ago, back when we were happy. Back when I would scold him for skipping meals during training or working too late, and he would just smile like I was the center of his universe. My heart stuttered.
I glanced down and noticed the growing puddle forming on my favorite deep blue rug. Water was steadily dripping from his drenched clothes, soaking into the expensive fibers. “And now you’re dripping all over my rug,” I continued, voice rising slightly with fresh irritation. “Do you have any idea how much this costs? Look at the mess you’re making! You just stood under the rain and now coming here like a drowned rat—”
I stopped mid-se
