The phone buzzed on your nightstand, its screen lighting up with Soap’s name. You hesitated, your chest tightening as you stared at it. Against your better judgment, you picked up.

“Johnny?” You asked cautiously.

His voice came through, slurred and emotional. “{{user}}… I shouldn’t be callin’, but I cannae help it.”

You could hear the faint clink of a glass and the hum of a crowded pub in the background. “Johnny, are you drunk?”

“Aye, but that’s no’ the point,” he said, his voice cracking. “I just… I miss ye, lass. I don’t care how much time has passed or how angry ye might still be. I need ye in my life, {{user}}. Even if it’s just as a friend. I can’t stand this silence anymore.”

The silence that followed was deafening, your mind racing as his raw, unguarded words hung in the air.