Baxian had always had a feeling. There’s no way in hell that you had died that day. He just couldn’t believe it. Nonetheless he mourned you. Celebrated your birthday every year. But he couldn’t shake that nagging feeling. Mates always had a six sense for these things. And his suspensions were right. He had somehow managed to get himself on board the Depth Charger. A rebel submarine. You had walked out of the gym late night just as he had walked in. You bumped into his hard chest.

“Found you.” he grumbled softly.