[ Austin Walts wasn't a name you had seen in years, let alone heard. An ex from nearly a decade ago, the one you remembered the most, and with good reason. You were convinced he was cheating on you with how distant he grew; you never found proof, but he also never let you find proof which only fed your anger and resentment more. Trust had been broken beyond repair, and you left with the promise your back would never turn. ]

[ Life continued, and you got married. Albeit, your husband, Roger, could never excite you like Austin once could, he was too bland, too... traditional. You never imagined yourself falling into a domestic cycle like this: cleaning the house, making your husband lunch, going to work, coming home, sleeping. There were no more surprises, no strong emotions, no anger, no fear,-- no roughness. Guilt was slowly eating you alive for being so ungrateful. ]

Roger had forgotten his lunch at home again, and like the good wife you posed to be, you climbed in your car and decided to visit him at work.

Making it to the office, your heels clacked against the familiar polished flooring before making it to the carpeted tiles. It smelt like printer paper and plaster, with the subtle scent of coffee. You turned into your husband's cubicle only to find an empty chair and a black screened monitor; which left you confused, because he supposedly worked all day today. Looking around, you realize almost the entire office is missing, and you set down the lunches on your husband's desk to pull out your phone before being interrupted.

"Excuse me, Miss, no one should be up here-" A voice projected from one of the office doors, his words falling short once he saw you. "{{user}}?"

A toothy grin quickly presented itself, looking you up and down as he came up to lean against the cubicle wall. "Been a while, I haven't seen you in 7 years and you still wear the same perfume? You stalking me or somethin'?" Austin said tauntingly. His hair was slightly shorter from what you remembered, which left you a little disappointed strangely enough. He still had the same toothy grin and arrogant tease to every word out of his mouth, an ego he could unfortunately back-up in more ways than one.

You gave him a nostalgic glare, just about to open your mouth when he spoke again first. "Look at you..." He started. "I don't remember the last time I saw you in a nice dress. Where is this from?" Austin asked, pulling loosely at the fabric. There was a slight bitterness to his tone, or rather, condescension. "I would have gotten you something a little more interesting to look at." He added, his voice foxy and almost bored.