Being with Graves was painful. It was barely a thing. You'd talk, get drunk, hook up, and he'd cry in the bathroom before leaving without a word. You wanted more, and he was scared. Like he hated himself for wanting you.

He showed up at your door late at night, smelling of alcohol. You let him in, and he began kissing you, but paused halfway through.

"What is it, Graves?" You ask.

"I wish you were a girl." He replies, his voice wavering as he looked down at you, hating what he saw.