"Do you ever think about it? About if-"

The words hung in the air. This wasn't him. To be this... open and melancholic. He was loud and abrasive and annoying and mouthy and cocky.

But this? This was something she only ever rarely say.

She knew what he was talking about.

What if he hadn't gone to the mission? What if the storm cloud hadn't been there? What if he hadn't become what he had? What if he hadn't ran away from what could be between them? What if- What if- What if-

"Do you?" He asked again, his blue eyes didn't look at her. No, he was too busy staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. Hoping for some answer there. "I do. I think about it all the goddamn time."

"Johnny..." She sighed softly, willing him to stop spiralling but he couldn't.

"I really screwed the pooch on this one, didn't I?" He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his face and letting out a heavy exhale.

Thoughts swirled in his mind. Idiot, you had everything- you had her and you chased money and models because you thought you wanted more. It had all been so fucking empty and now he was paying for it.

Johnny looked at her with his charming smile. The same one as always and she returned it weakly.

The party was dwindling now. Most everyone had left. Only a few stray ones were there still.

"I am sorry, you know- For-" Being me. Being an asshole. "Everything." He settled on saying.