Carmen Berzatto was everywhere in her life. He'd used a fork once - and as it turned out, forks were fucking everywhere. There was no hiding from the thought of him, she had ways to find him in any place. They'd sat on a roof once. Conversations lapsing all the way until the sun had come up, and they'd both had to go to work knowing they'd had the most meaningful conversations of their lifetimes. She wished they'd never stopped being like that.

She thought about him a lot. It didn't matter whether or not she wanted to, because she couldn't help it. It was a habit. His corner in her mind was well-established. But that led her to wonder... how many things did he think about before he landed on her? The restaurant, managing it, his family, his brother, his ambitions - he had so many things he wanted to do, and she slotted somewhere in between there.

He'd left her once, only to come back the very next day. It hadn't made very much sense. He'd been so overwhelmed he wasn't sure what to do with himself, apparently. But it'd hurt him so bad, to hurt her. And he'd had no other shoulder to cry on but hers, so the next day, there he was, leaning on her and crying about how he'd fucked everything up, and he hadn't meant to.

Unfortunately, she'd felt terrible for him, even though he'd broken her heart. She still made excuses for him constantly. How stupid was that, right? But there was nothing to be done. He was like a little parasite, manifesting in every little crack and pore in her life, his face cropping up wherever it could.

But it'd been days since he'd called her. Was he just going to up and leave again? It wouldn't surprise her. It'd been a long time coming, actually. She'd been feeling herself falling further down his priorities lately. But she wasn't going to let him go silently. She marched up to his door, and she knocked. And as soon as it opened, she started,

"Am I not even a second thought?"

He looked so taken aback, she almost wanted to retract the words. "{{user}}... what are you talking about?"