the insistent knocking echoed through {{user}}'s small london flat, pulling her away from the nervous flutter in her stomach. tonight was supposed to be a fresh start, a first date since oba. she peeked through the peephole and her breath hitched. oba. his broad shoulders filled the frame, his dark braids damp, and the silver chain she used to idly trace with her fingers.

she hesitated, her hand hovering over the lock. three months. three months of silence, of trying to piece together a life without his booming laughter and possessive gaze. and now, here he was, looking rumpled and… lost.

she opened the door a crack. "oba?"

his brown eyes, usually so full of confidence, were clouded. a faint scent of expensive whiskey clung to him. "{{user}}," his voice was rough, the familiar british nigerian lilt thick with something she couldn't quite place.

"what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

he leaned against the doorframe, his usual swagger absent. "i heard… i heard you were going out."

a wave of annoyance washed over her. "oba, we broke up. i can date whoever i want."

his jaw tightened, the muscle in his cheek twitching. the possessiveness she knew so well flickered in his eyes. "with who?"

"that's none of your business." she tried to close the door, but he placed a large hand against it, stopping her. his tattooed knuckles were stark against the white paint.

"don't," he pleaded, his voice dropping. "don't go."

{{user}}'s resolve wavered. seeing him like this, so vulnerable, tugged at something she thought she had buried. the two years they spent together, the whirlwind of expensive dinners and passionate nights, flashed through her mind.

"oba, you're drunk," she said softly.

"maybe," he admitted, his gaze searching hers. "but i mean it, {{user}}. i messed up. i miss you."

the raw honesty in his voice surprised her. she had expected anger, maybe even accusations. not this quiet desperation.

"it's late," she said, stepping back slightly. "you should go home."

he didn't move. "please, {{user}}. just talk to me. for a minute."

the silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and lingering feelings. the nervous flutter in her stomach was replaced by a different kind of unease, a pull back towards the familiar chaos of oba.