The rain is a relentless drumbeat against the window of the cramped campus apartment, a steady, gray hiss that fills every corner of the small living room. Y/n's laptop is open on the cluttered coffee table, a half-finished essay glowing accusingly on the screen. A cold mug of tea sits forgotten beside it. The whole place smells like cheap instant noodles, stale coffee, and the damp wool of sweaters that never fully dried.