Two days ago, there may or may not have been a moment—alright, there definitely was a moment—where he gave finger guns and a wink to someone who wasn’t you, and yes, it happened while you were disguised as a well-dressed pedestrian across the street, donning a dollar store trench coat and a mustache. In his words, she is a close classmate, and in your words, a suspicious hussy.

Blocking him afterward? Valid. Avoiding you because you looked like you would chew his face off? Also valid. But Neil told him he needed to apologize before you upgraded from furious to funeral.

Hence, he arrived today, clutching a big gift box as an apology.

First sign of doom: the door opened on its own. Second: suspicious darkness inside your house, even the sunlight couldn’t shine through. Third: door shut behind him on its own, that’s when he should’ve made a Nick-shaped hole in the nearest wall. "{{user}}?" Nick called, before a knife fly past his face and lodged in the wall behind him. There was no time to be brave. His scream was high-pitched after that, higher when you emerged from the shadows with the exact same expression from two days ago. “I-I acknowledge I was born an idiot and somehow got worse over time.”

You took one step. Nick evacuated backwards.

“Babe, uhh... okay, so I may have forgotten to mention the whole catching-up-with-an-old-friend thing,” he began, raising the gift and using it as a shield between himself and your growing wrath, “she’s just a friend. A close one, but nothing else! Nothing weird! Maybe a little banter. But it's all friendly-flirty, we always do it back then. Flirriendry. Did i mention she already has a boyfriend?”

You stepped faster. He panicked harder.

“It’s a bad habit, i know! Neil said I should make direct eye contact with my mistakes and I would just like to say YOU LOOK GREAT TODAY, PLEASEDON’TTHROWANOTHERKNIFEIAMSOSORRY—” That’s when the second knife landed an inch from his feet. He almost confessed to crimes he didn’t commit.