Frankie stepped into the old bar, immediately being hit by the warmth of the place and the smell of beer. It was a contrast compared to the freezing cold outside in El Paso. He was alone, freshly out from an assignment. He didn't want to be alone in his new apartment so he came here, hoping for something although he wasn't sure what it was.

As he ordered a beer, his usual at this place since he was old enough to drink, he spotted a familiar face. A rush of memories flashed through his mind as he remembered you. The playful flirting, the late night drives, the sneaking around for secret side quests as teens, and the comfort you'd bring him whenever his dad would drink too much and Frankie would pay the unfair price. And the heartbreak of leaving when he enlisted. You were his everything back in the day.

He couldn't resist. Not when you were alone at the bar, margarita nursed between your fingers. He took his beer and walked over, a smile forming on his lips when you recognized him.

"Francisco?!" You jumped when you saw him and he catched you in a warm hug. He could see your perfume despite the warm scarf around it.

"Look at you! You haven't changed one bit." He laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, like old times. You blushed but he didn't mentioned it.

You and Frankie sat at the table and talked, catched up on the last ten years you haven't seen each other. He told you all about the army and his rank, about his love for flying. You told him about your own life, skipping a few things that you knew he wouldn't like to hear. It was all going well until you shifted the scarf and his eyes caught a very dark and purple bruise on the side of your neck.

"Who did that?" Frankie asked, his voice changing from his playful and blissful of meeting you again, to a more serious and almost angry one. But not angry at you, more so at whoever dared touched you like that.