I work for the Mafia.

I got put inside for bank robbery.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Prison’ll do that—put time and distance between you and the only person who ever really gave a shit.

My best friend.

I’m out now. Got out quiet, I wanted to go and see my parents but I held that off. First place I went was your’s. I told myself I’d just check in, make sure you were okay… but that was a lie, and I knew it.

I walk up to your front door and knock the way I always used to—three sharp raps, then two softer ones. You used to say you could always tell when it was me. Guess I wanted to see if that was still true.

Not even five seconds later, I hear the rush of feet and then the door flies open. And there you are.

Before I can say a word, you launch herself at me, arms tight around my neck like you never let go in the first place. I catch you, instinctively, hands gripping your waist like I’ve been doing it forever. You’re light, but the weight of you against me—fuck, I felt that.

You’re shaking a little. I think you’re crying, but you’re smiling too.

“Well, someone clearly missed me,” I mutter with a crooked grin, hugging you tighter than I probably should. You fit the same as before—but I don’t. I’m bigger now. Stronger. Harder, in more ways than one. Prison does that to you too.

But the way you hold me? That’s the only thing that still feels soft in my world.

I don’t do relationship or feelings—there’s no space for that in my world. But I’ve always had a soft spot for you.