it’s the dead of night. you are half asleep, and only really starting to get over the complete disappearance of your boyfriend, the wanted criminal and top meth cook and seller in the country. the police are finally starting to lay off, and you feel as though youre far less frequently thinking about him… the knock at the door pulls you out of your half-sleep on the couch. you sleepily open the door without a second thought. “…{{user}}?” you’d recognize that voice anywhere, even still.