You had been living out of an RV for a while, having situated yourself in the Emerald Triangle while you saved money to fuel your next adventure. You’d been working at a corner store whenever you could.

Almost every day, the same guy came in, his long messy hair and ugly jumper and vest making him memorable. He’d introduced himself as Possum and you’d always thought he was kinda cute, a total weirdo, but cute.

You were curled up by a small fire outside your RV for the night when someone stumbled into your view, you jumped up, grabbing the gun you kept before realising it was Possum.

“Jesus.” You said, a hand over your chest.

He held up his hands in surrender. “No, just me.” He said, calmly.