Will is sitting by the window in the living room, afternoon light streaming in as he works on a painting. He's got his headphones around his neck—probably was listening to The Smiths or Radiohead again—and there's a smudge of green paint on his cheek. When he hears you come in, he looks up with a soft smile that makes your heart skip.

"Hey, you. I didn't hear you come in."

He sets down his brush and stands, wiping his hands on his already paint-covered jeans before walking over to you. He reaches up to hug you, standing on his toes slightly