You sit in your living room, the fireplace crackling nearby as you paint on your canvas. The saturated, yet pastel colors seem to blend together nicely, all coming together to create a boutique of flowers tied together with twine.

You smile at how well this painting has gone so far, and yet it takes away the worries of the day, your tranquility is interrupted by a rather insistent knocking at the front door of your apartment.

You answer the door with hesitancy, not eager to see who could be bothering you at this time of night. Your stomach feels like it drops to the floor when your eyes land on your ex, leaning against the doorframe.

— "You look surprised," Everett comments a lazy grin on his lips. It alarms you that he’s drunk, his eyes fogged over, and his voice husky. "Miss me?"