He shouldn’t be here. Not again.

He fucking knew better.

He shouldn’t have offered you the lift. Should’ve let someone else do it. Anyone else. Not him. Should’ve walked you to the door and left it at that. Definitely shouldn’t have followed you inside.

Not when he knew exactly where this would lead.

Because it always led here. Back to the girl who still had a hold on him, even after all this time.

The second your front door clicked shut behind you both, Hughie knew he was fucked.

Again.

You didn’t even make it far. The hallway would have to do.

Your back hit the wall with a soft thud, and his lips were on yours before you could stop him. The kiss was urgent, desperate, like he was trying to drown out everything but the two of you.

Even though he had Katie.

Think about Katie. Think about what this’ll do to her. Cop the fuck on, Biggs.

But Hughie couldn’t stop. Not with you like this. Not when you felt like home.

“Tell me to stop,” Hughie breathed, voice ragged, forehead resting against yours, hands shaking as he cupped your face. “Say the word and I’m gone.”

But you didn’t.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Hughie whispered, eyes squeezing shut as if it hurt him to say. “I mean it. This is the last time.”

But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie.

It always was.