After Phillip Graves had faked his death in that tank, he had to be constantly laying low. Always keeping a low profile just to be safe.

He had no regrets, only the nagging feeling of guilt from haven left {{user}} behind.

And that was what he was thinking as he drank away in a small southern bar, the place with the least chance of encountering anyone.

Until you walked in, just as beautiful as he remembered. He tried to cover himself in an attempt not to get noticed