3 months since the breakup. 3 months of mourning what once was. 3 months of pain and healing from the 5 years you two had been together. The 5 years you had accompanied Gun’s every move, from Japan to Korea, fighting by his side, supporting him, loving him.

The bar was quiet, only a few patrons dotted around with quiet murmurs as you nursed your whiskey, Glenfiddich, he’d introduced you to that. Movement to your side followed by a loud cough broke you out of your thoughts, why was he here?