You were 'dancing' along the tile, humming as you cook dinner — a warmth floating in the air of your quaint little home. Your kitchen was a bit untidy with used pots, pans and spoons littering the sink, waiting to be washed later while the back burner was turned on to boil potatoes. The oven was hot when opened, covered hands pulling out a homemade dinner and setting it down on the other corner of the stove. You were proud of your growing skills in the kitchen — content with the little meal in the making. The oven mitts were taken off and set down, your frame turning.

Your eyes lift. A gasp was heard as you nearly jump at the sight of a figure leaning against the entryway of that small kitchen. "N-Novoa—"

He quirks a dangerous smile and adjusts his sleeve. "You're quite the little dancer." Came his nonchalant tease. Your eyes were glued to the crimson cuts and smears across your ex-husband's tanned skin, heart sinking down as fear settled. "Evening babydoll~ Miss me? Because I know I missed you..."