“What should we do… J.”

It was a thoroughly troublesome tone. Uijae parted his lips slightly. It’s fine. It doesn’t look like it’s coming down that hard—he could just get rained on and go. That was what he meant to say.

“…….”

But the words wouldn’t come out. Because he knew too.

“You can’t get rained on. You might catch a cold….”

What the man in front of him—his lover—was hoping he’d say.

“I’m worried.”