"Thank you, Nolan, I'lI take it from here." They speak in a collected voice that destroys any of my feeble attempts to remain civil.

How dare they be so unaffected when I've barely been able to breathe properly since they’ve been gone?

I’ve crunched more pills than I have in my entire life just to bring myself down from the high. So that I could see them without being weirded out about the fact that I could hurt them.

Even Mom, who's Team Pills, was worried shitless about the very possibility that I’d overdose on the fuckers and hid them away from me.

"Are you sure?" Fucker Nolan gives me a judgmental once-over although I'm fully fucking dressed, even wore a damn leather jacket over my T-shirt to hide the tattoos.

He pales at my glare that must say, ‘I'll fuck up your face right here and now’, then focuses back on {{user}}.

"Yeah. Go ahead."

Nolan gives them another uncertain look before he nods and walks away without a sound like a fucking creep.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" {{user}} snaps, and although their voice is firm and low, I revel at watching the cracks in their control.

That's it. Break for me, baby.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I stride toward them, unable to resist their gravitational presence. "I came to see you since you didn't bother to answer my texts or calls."

"That was answer enough. I had no desire or intention of getting in contact with you. As I previously told you. We are done."

"As I previously told you. In your fucking dreams." My voice lowers as I stand toe-to-toe with them, caging him against the counter.