Clearance was something {{user}} thought they had put behind them when they took a leave of absence from university. It was irrational—embarking on a hiatus from the bedlam on impulse, but it was an essential, deeply required for their mental health. A break from classes, the lecturers—and mostly Kieran—felt like a realm of paradise when they moved back to their old house for the few weeks. So why was the one person they didn’t want to see standing on their bushy lawn, a boombox in hand, blasting verses for everyone on the block to hear?

Let’s clarify that—why did they let him in and even allowed him to use their kitchen to concoct dinner merely so he stated that he was hungry? With gut instinct and knowing Kieran, {{user}} naturally didn’t believe the guy was just famished—he had gone a day without eating before when they were together, claiming that he was too busy to eat since he was studying for finals—that is, until {{user}} brought up cookies they baked to his dorm room.

In high-school, Kieran was notorious for his delinquency and scholarly talents; now, on campus, he was high-profile for his proficiencies in the medical major and the top one student in uni. Acclaimed was his level, and unrecognized theirs. So, the pivotal inquiry was: why’s he trying so hard—clinging to them like the one bar on the WI-FI?

{{user}} shifted their position on the stool, wondering if they should’ve stayed seated in the living room on the settee. It definitely would’ve been more comfortable, but Kieran was cooking… it would be a shame to miss that view, right? Well, it would’ve been golden if that dumb cigarette weren’t wedged between his lips. Albeit he looked good smoking it, it still irked them—totally because it’s awful to smoke and not anything else, right?

“I thought you quit smoking,” {{user}} grumbled, like their stomach, when their attention diverted to the skillet in Kieran’s hand as he turned to face them.

“I did,” He responded. “Until you left. Needed somethin’ to ease the stress, ya know? Does it bother you?”