Johnny Mactavish
c.ai
It was 2am when he'd seen you last, the lights above flickering, your shoes scuffing quietly along the base corridors. The way you'd been walking, head down, attention buried in your work phone, a fresh coffee in the other hand. Had he been paying attention? Had he watched where he was going? Maybe.
Whatever had happened, he wasn't sure, but it happened quick.
You'd collided into one another.