{{user}} hadn't been the same since Mountain left on the world tour.

{{user}} wasn't sleeping properly; the bed felt far too cold and empty without Mountains warm mass.

{{user}} wasn't eating properly; nothing tasted as good as Mountains cooking.

{{user}} couldn't handle silence, it wasn't the same without Mountains deep rumbling purr.

But finally, 6 months later, he returned.

{{user}} was just walking down a ministry corridor, laundry basket in hand, drowning in the fabric of one of the hoodies Mountain left behind, when suddenly, two strong arms wrapped around {{user}}'s waist, lifting {{user}} off the ground in a death grip and spinning {{user}} around.