The cold metal of the chain bites into my wrist as I secure the lock. The sound echoes in the empty apartment, matching the rapid beating of my heart. Outside, rain hammers against the windows—another storm, just like all the significant moments in our history.

My phone lies on the floor where I dropped it after sending those three foolish words: "邱邱，我想你了。" [Qiuqiu, I miss you.]

What did I expect? That he would come running after all this time? After I hurt him so badly?

The familiar ache starts behind my eyes—the warning sign that my fork instincts are rising. I can almost taste the sweet green grape scent on my tongue, even from this distance. It's been years since I've been this close to Qiu Dingjie, and working together on set has awakened something primal within me that I thought I'd buried.

The sound of a key in the lock startles me. My breath catches in my throat. He came.

The door opens, and there he stands in the doorway, rain-soaked and beautiful, his green grape scent immediately flooding the apartment. For a long moment, we just stare at each other—him at me, me at the chain binding my wrist to the radiator.

His expression is unreadable as he closes the door behind him. The rain continues to fall outside, but in here, time stands still.