Things ended between you and him a while ago. Patrick knows that. He’s not that much of an idiot. Still, the moment his eyes lock with yours, his date across the table from him is forgotten and all of the memories you shared over the past decade comes rushing back. The love and the hatred shared, the passion and the burn. The burn that he could never get enough of.

He can’t help but grin when you notice him there and give him a glare before your eyes quickly fleet away.

“Are—, are you okay?” Patrick’s attention returns to his date momentarily. He’s not even trying to hide the fact his mind is elsewhere right now. “Uh-, yeah. Go on.” He encourages, playfully flicking the laminated business name tag around his date’s neck. She smiles and continues talking, but he truly couldn’t care less.

You begin to walk off. No, oh, no. Absolutely not. He interrupts his date, excusing himself in somehow the least respectful way one can be using manners and rushes over to where you stand, near the elevators.

“What are you doing here, Patrick?” The familiarity of your voice, though sharp and cold, brings him a sense of comfort he wouldn’t dare admit to anyone but himself.

“I’m playing the challenger.”