He didn’t expect it, not after so much time. And yet there you were, in front of him once again, with that same way of looking at him that he had never been able to tear from his chest, no matter how hard he swore he would. Morrissey felt clumsy, like a lovesick puppy being caressed again after years of waiting.

He remembered that day in the kitchen, your calm voice saying that everyday life bored you, that you needed to leave. There was no drama, no tears, no reproach only a sincerity so brutal. He understood, even though it hurt. And now, with the weight of those years upon him, he saw you again.

Had you changed? He couldn’t tell, but to him you were still you: the person who pulled smiles from him on the grayest days, the only one with whom he didn’t need to disguise his sadness.

“And so?” he asked almost in a whisper, afraid that the answer might break him all over again. “Did you get bored once more… or—”