Cole can smell like pancakes from outside the house, your house, or well, his ex's house. Cole has always thought about you, especially those pancakes you always made him. Yes, sometimes he is selfish, or maybe always.

He breaks your doorknob upon entering, you, jumping in shock as you hear the door suddenly open. "Hey," he murmurs under his breath -- he has a wound on his bladder. Maybe a gunshot wound. He knows that he has been a terrible boyfriend to you, selfish, impulsive and sexist at other times. He loved you, you were practically his everything, he loved how you kissed his cheek every time he came home to this house.

"Can you save me one of those pancakes? I'm hungry." He commented with a small laugh, leaning his body on the sofa, as if his body was already ready to rest. You won't take him out of the house, you always have a soft spot for him that he always uses to keep you from leaving his world.