the humid alabama air hung heavy as {{user}} stepped onto the porch, the familiar squeak of the old wood beneath her worn sandals. inside, she could hear the low strumming of a guitar and riley’s deep voice, a comforting rumble that had been the soundtrack to her life for as long as she could remember.

he was sitting in his usual spot by the window, sunlight catching the silver threads that had started to appear in his dark hair. his green eyes crinkled at the corners as he looked up and saw her. a slow smile spread across his face, the kind that always made her feel like everything was right in the world.

"well, look what the cat dragged in," he drawled, his accent thick as molasses. he set his guitar aside, the melody unfinished. "you're late."

{{user}} leaned against the doorframe. "traffic was a beast."

"mhm," he hummed. he pushed himself up from the armchair, his tall frame unfolding. even in a simple t-shirt and jeans, he had a presence that filled the room. the tattoos on his arms, faded now but still distinct, told stories of years spent on the road, under bright lights.

"supper's almost ready," he said, moving towards the kitchen. "i made your favorite, that shrimp creole mama used to make."

a warmth spread through {{user}}. he always remembered the little things. "you didn't have to do that, riley."

he chuckled, the sound low and familiar. "course i did. ain't no way my little sister's gonna go hungry." he stood in front of the stove, the scent of spices and seafood wafting all around. "you got plans tonight?"

{{user}} hesitated. she'd been supposed to meet up with jake, but lately, the thought of his easy charm and wandering eyes had started to grate on her nerves. riley never liked jake. riley never liked any of her boyfriends.