The last time you were face to face with Cassidy, he ended your... whatever the hell the two of you were.

"C'mon, pumpkin—don't give me that face," he had said when you pushed him away, "I'm doin' this to protect you."

Yet here he is months later: at your doorstep, your address basically engraved into his mind as he reeks of alcohol.

"Sorry," the cowboy grunts out, nearly collapsing onto you when you swing open the door. "I missed you." He misses the only person who makes him feel normal.