The rain was coming down hard, like the sky was really letting it all out. A drop slid off the edge of a shaking leaf and hit the ground, blending right into the storm's chaotic beat.
There was a guy standing under a crooked black umbrella, and one side of his suit was soaked where the rain had gotten in.
His face was blank, totally at odds with the wild storm around him, almost like he was separate from everything else.
At his feet knelt a woman, her body shaking with sobs.
Her hair was wet and stuck to her face, and she clutched the mud beneath her like it could somehow ground her.
"sob....Whaayy!? Why would he do this? After two years…?" she cried out, her voice breaking with raw emotion.
The man looked down at her, rain streaming down his face without any sign of emotion.
He angled the umbrella a bit more to shield her, but it meant his own shoulder took the brunt of the downpour.
"Don't cry," he said softly, his voice low and steady, sort of commanding yet lacking any real comfort.
She looked up, her swollen eyes searching his. "How can I not?" she whispered, vulnerability spilling from her. "He said he loved me….sniff... He promised me forever…"
He bent down a little, just enough for their eyes to meet, and brushed a damp strand of hair from her face in a way that was slow and intentional. "Promises," he said, his voice flat, "are only as strong as the men who make them. Some men promise forever because they're too weak to handle today."
Her lips quivered, confusion flickering in her gaze. "What… what does that mean?"
The corner of his mouth curved; it wasn't a smile, but something cold—more chilling, as if coming from a devil.
He stayed quiet, letting the silence stretch.
His hand ran through her wet hair, the movement drawn out and almost unnerving, before it landed on her shoulder.
His grip tightened suddenly.
With a quick, jolting pull, he yanked her to her feet. She stumbled forward, grabbing his soaked pants to catch herself.
Her tears blurred her sight, but she held on tight.
"Enough," he said sharply, slicing through her sobs. "You're wasting your pain on someone who didn't even deserve your loyalty."
She broke down again, her voice barely a whisper. "But I… I loved him…"
He straightened, his expression hardening as he let go of her arm. "Love," he said, his tone almost dripping with disdain, "is wasted on the unworthy. You gave your heart to a guy who didn't know how to hold it. That's not love—that's charity."
Her knees almost gave out, and she sank against him, grabbing hold of his jacket like it was the only thing left in the world.
The rain kept soaking her, but she didn't even seem to notice, burying her face in his wet pants.
She whimpered, voice muffled but filled with anguish. "It hurts... Why? Why would he do this to me?"
He placed a hand on her head, fingers threading through her hair with a mix of gentleness and control.
He tilted her face up so she had to look at him.
His voice softened, but there was something sharp beneath it. "He did it because he could. Men like him… they take and take until there's nothing left to give. You were always too much for someone like that."
She choked back a sob, tears spilling freely now as her hands gripped his jacket tighter. Her breath hitched. "It hurts so much... Why does it hurt so much?"
"Because you gave yourself to someone who wasn't strong enough to hold you," he said, his fingers still running through her hair, guiding her gently. "You need someone who can take all of you—your strength, your passion, everything—and never let go."
"Stop crying," he murmured, almost thoughtful as he tightened his grip in her hair. "You're mourning a guy who was never worthy of you in the first place. That's his tragedy, not yours."
She trembled against him, his words weighing down on her like the rain.
"You stayed loyal to him," he said quietly, "but his loyalty? It wasn't broken; it was too weak to exist in the first place."
Her hands slipped from his jacket to grip the soaked fabric of his pants as she crumpled against him, her cries growing louder.
He stood there, expressionless, like this whole scene was just a performance.
"Now stop, you idiot, or else…" he said softly but firmly, tightening his hand in her hair even as she pressed her face against him. "I'll stop your tears, but not with comfort—I'll burn them from you until all that's left is the strength you never knew you had."
"Waah... sob...." She cried harder, her tears soaking through his already drenched pants. The rain drowned some of her cries but not all of them.
He tilted the umbrella further, letting his exposed shoulder take the full force of the storm.
For just a second, his lips curved faintly—somewhere between a smirk and a sneer.
His cold gaze rested on her bowed form, his grip steady while pressing her wet face against his groins, separated only by the fabric of his pants.
-----
The motel room was dimly lit, the flicker of a faulty bulb casting long shadows on the cracked walls.
The rain continued its relentless downpour outside, muffling its beat against the windows.
The woman knelt before him, her head moving in slow, uneven motions, back and forth with a sound filling the whole room.
squelch squelch
"Uhn... mh..." Her damp hair clung to her face, the wet sounds of her mouth filling the room, broken only by the desperate, breathy whimpers she couldn't suppress.
The air was thick with the sound of her mouth sliding along his shaft, the wet, sucking noises punctuated by the occasional moan escaping her lips.
Her movements were uneven, strained, but she kept going, fighting to meet his pace.
Above her, the man with his muscular bare body stood still, his hand buried deep in her hair, fingers tightening subtly to guide her head down and control the rhythm of her actions.
His eyes were half-lidded, calculating, and detached as he casually retrieved her phone from her damp clothes lying on the drawer with the other hand, the light of the screen briefly illuminating his sharp features.
beep beep beep
The sound of a dial tone broke the silence.
She paused, glancing up at him, her breath shallow, but his grip on her hair tightened, forcing her to continue.
"Mhnn..." She whimpered, her head bobbing up and down again with renewed urgency.
"Slurp...." Her lips made a soft, wet sound as they moved over him.
"Don't stop," he muttered, his voice calm and commanding, like a ruler dictating his terms as he guided her wet lips on the swollen, reddened head of his throbbing shaft.
The call connected.
::Anna? Where are you? I was drugged that day—:: The deep voice coming from the other side of the call was desperate and clearly anxious, intending to explain a significant misunderstanding.
The man's lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk. "She's here. Right now, she's got her mouth full... of me."
'!?!'
:: W-who is this?! ::