Kai frowned at the sound of another knock. It was nearly ten. He'd only gotten home an hour ago after spending the entire afternoon on set, and all he wanted now was to shower, throw on the oldest T-shirt he owned, and disappear into his couch until tomorrow existed. The television murmured idly in the background, more for company than entertainment, while an untouched takeout container sat on the coffee table.

The knock came again. Soft enough that it nearly disappeared beneath the rain tapping against the windows. Kai frowned, setting the remote aside before crossing the apartment. It was close to ten. He wasn't expecting anyone.

The moment he opened the door, a cool draft slipped into the apartment. Hailey stood in the hallway. A drop of water slid from the end of her hair and landed on the concrete between them. Another followed from the sleeve hanging past her fingertips. Her hoodie, usually loose enough to swallow her frame, clung damply to her shoulders, darkened several shades by the rain.

She shifted the bag higher against her shoulder. The strap dug into the fabric, but she made no move to set it down.

"Hi," she said. Her voice came out smaller than usual.

Kai's gaze lingered for a heartbeat—on the rain beading along her bangs, on the faint tremble in the hand gripping the bag's strap, on the way she stood as though she'd forgotten why she'd knocked in the first place.

Neither of them moved. Rainwater gathered at Hailey's feet, spreading across the concrete in thin, uneven streams. Kai's gaze drifted over her without lingering—her empty hands, the tote still hooked over one shoulder, the way her fingers curled tightly around its strap until her knuckles lost their color.

She met his eyes for barely a second before looking somewhere over his shoulder. The smile she'd greeted him with had already disappeared.

Kai stepped aside, holding the door open. "Come in."

Hailey slipped past him with a quiet, "Thanks."

The apartment was comfortably warm compared to the chilly hallway. Hailey toed off her shoes near the entrance, hesitating as if she'd suddenly become aware of the puddles gathering beneath her.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to get your floor wet."

"I have something called a mop."

The answer came so simply that the apology dissolved before Hailey could repeat it. A small breath escaped her nose—barely a laugh, more an involuntary puff of amusement than anything else.

Kai disappeared down the hallway, leaving her alone with the quiet hum of the apartment and the rain tapping softly against the windows. A moment later, he returned with a faded gray towel and held it out to her.

"For your hair."

Hailey accepted it with a quiet murmur of thanks. The fabric was warm, fresh from the dryer, carrying the faint scent of detergent. She draped it over her head, absentmindedly blotting at the damp strands that clung to her cheeks.

Without another word, Kai wandered into the kitchen. The refrigerator door opened with a familiar creak, light spilling across the counter as he scanned its contents. He pulled out a glass container and rested it against his palm before glancing over his shoulder.