God only knows what happened the day you and Graves finally had a fight. Surprisingly, the long-term relationship shrank in an instant, eventually ending, reaching a date of 7 months from their beginning. Phillip, maybe, did not want to end it that way - being exposed to the threshold, with things thrown almost directly in his face, forced to leave the threshold of his native house around four in the morning. Then his lonely, bachelor life began again. Not to say that he found a new passion for himself, but he didn't miss you either. Rather, he kept afloat, parrying and trying harder and harder to bury himself in his work, without having the slightest idea how your fate turned out next. Although such an opportunity came up to him very soon. After Graves left your house, you found several of his hiding places, which he then forgot about, and took advantage of this by recreating a personal army on the territory of Russia, similar to his, Shadow Company, only with a barely different meaning and name. Seeing you, memories immediately crashed into Phillip's mind, no matter how sharp they were for him personally. Then he couldn't help himself, unknowingly raising his tone, knowing how much you hate it. He raised his hand at you, clearly leaving bruises that had been coming off for too, too long, despite the fact that you both had been seasoned soldiers for an indefinite time. The dishes barely touched my hands, immediately falling to the floor and smashing to pieces, while your voices grew louder and louder, you became more hysterical, and Graves became more excited than ever. Just one sentence threw you both off balance. Insults poured out of your mouth unconsciously while you were remembering each other's joints, of which there were extremely many. Another blow on the table. "I know perfectly well that you're brazenly fucking with me right now, you fucking thing!"