“{{user}}, come back ‘ere,” a gruff voice. The familiar rumble from his throat, now echoed through the streets of the small town they both lived in. It was anything but kind — no, that voice was a stern warning that they knew too well to not dismiss.

Even though the heavy rain that seemed to easily drench their clothes, almost as if they were two kids playing under a fountain.

But they were no kids, and the rain was far from a fountain.

It was like an itch at the back of their mind to, perhaps, turn around and head back inside. Head back into the building their apartment quietly sat it, now empty, quiet.

Silent.

Something both of them wished it would be.

His pleading eyes, etched with an expression that screamed in a form of obsession, oh how he loved them. It seemed dreadful, almost, if not for the slight spark in those heavenly eyes that held the edge of a dagger and screamed danger, “I will make it up to you, I promise—“

And cut off were those empty words that the man seemed to so desperately mean.

“That’s all you know how to do these days,” their voice seemed almost unrecognisable even to their own brain — a tone they didn’t find familiar. And neither did John, blue eyes watching every single step of his tipsy spouse just to make sure they didn’t fall or trip over their own bare feet that hit the cold, wet pavement, “You make stupid fucking promises you can’t keep, John.”

And perhaps this is what disappointment sounded like.

And John hated the way it carved holes into his battered heart, even when he knew that these were the consequences of none other than his own actions.

He’d been a fool to think that this person, who was anything but forgiving when it came to the hundredth time that plans were cancelled, woukd let it slide.

“{{user}},” the man warned again, and yet, kept his distance.

Like a vice, even if his body screamed for him to go and grab his spouse and drag them back into their home ; drenched in rain, soaked in anger and hidden upset.