Ok. One last time ( L! Youngseo )

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Y/n's pov-

The rain was relentless that night. It battered against the windows of my apartment, loud and persistent, as if it had something to say.

I stood by the glass, my fingers brushing the cold surface, watching as the city below became a blur of glowing headlights and puddles.

Normally, I loved the rain. It had a way of drowning out the noise of the world, wrapping everything in a kind of calm.

But tonight, the rain felt heavy, suffocating, pressing against me like an unwelcome memory.

It's been three months since I last saw Youngseo, but on nights like this, she feels closer than ever.

Every time it rains, I think of her. Or just in general, everything reminds me of her...

The way she used to smile at me when she thought I wasn't looking, the way she'd wrap her arms around herself, even indoors, as if she was trying to shield herself from something only she could feel.

I could never quite figure her out, and maybe that was part of why I fell so hard for her.

But love, I've learned, isn't enough to keep someone from leaving.

I met Youngseo on a rainy night not so different from the current one.

(2 years ago)

It was at a little corner café near the university, the kind of place that smelled like cinnamon and old books, with creaky floors and mismatched furniture.

I'd been sitting there with my laptop, pretending to work but really just watching the rain cascade down the windows. That's when she walked in.

She wasn't the kind of woman who turned heads immediately. Youngseo was a bit talkative, but a bit shy, her dark hair damp from the rain and her oversized sweater swallowing her small frame.

But there was something about her, something in the way she carried herself, that made me glance up from my screen.

She seemed lost in her own world, her eyes scanning the room as if she was searching for something, or maybe someone.

When her gaze landed on me, I felt a jolt, like she had seen straight through my soul and thought about her.

She sat down a few tables away, pulling out a book from her bag and settling in.

I tried to refocus on my laptop, but my eyes kept drifting back to her.

She was so locked into her book, completely oblivious to the people around her, and I was fascinated by that.

How could someone look so concentrated in a room full of noise and movement?

I must have been staring too long because, at one point, she looked up and caught my eye.

Instead of looking away, though, she smiled—just a small, soft smile, barely there but enough to make my heart skip a beat.

Her cat featured face printed in my head. I remember feeling an inexplicable urge to talk to her, to know her, even though I had no idea what I'd say.

Eventually, she closed her book and stood up, heading toward the door.

Without thinking, I stood up quickly too, abandoning my laptop and coffee, and followed her out into the rain.

"Excuse me!" I called out, feeling ridiculous but desperate to stop her.

She turned, her expression curious, but not startled. "Yes?"

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