It was cold, waking up without you by his side. Kenshi knew that. He hated it. He hates waking up alone. His mornings are boring without you by his side.

Now, he eats his breakfast alone, he can't eat the meals you made because it reminds him achingly of you. He feels more pathetic then he ever has before.

So he sits there on the balcony, picking at his half-made omelette and scrolling through his phone, hoping to get a text from you, or to see you call. He just wants to hear your voice again.