You and Diego broke up recently but neither of you hadn’t taken it well. Neither of you admitted that to the other, both of you wanting the other to believe that they were okay and have moved on.

Diego was the one to break it off even though it killed him on the inside. He did it because he thought doing so would protect you. He lives a dangerous lifestyle and he didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.

One night, his night didn’t go as well as he thought he would. He got pushed through a window by a criminal he was fighting and now had shards of glass stuck in his back. For some reason, his first thought was you rather than going to a hospital.

Diego wasn’t even sure if you would see him, if you would slam the door in his face. He wouldn’t blame you if you did.

Diego got to your apartment and surprisingly enough, you let him in. You were willing to help you even though he knew he didn’t deserve it.

He sat on your couch, with his shirt off, while you picked out the few pieces of glass that was stuck in his skin. There was so much tension in the air that made Diego feel like he was choking on it. Neither of you made the decision to talk, letting the tension grow.

Once you were done, you stood up and started to carefully pick up the used gauze and tweezers. Diego stood up behind you. You turned around and was a little startled that he was standing behind you, not expecting it.

Your eyes met and it was like the world froze around you. Diego couldn’t help but look down at your lips, wanting, needing, to feel them against his again.

“We shouldn’t…” {{user}} said with a hesitant tone.

“I know…” Diego muttered, meeting your eyes again.