It’s been a month since you both parted ways. Since you both angrily walked out on one another and agreed to never see the other again, because it simply wasn’t working.

It had been a vicious cycle for god knows how long.

You’d leave him, he’d beg for you back, and it would be good for a little while; until everything would go to shit again. Just for one of you to break no contact, and you’d end up in each others beds, and then it would repeat. Over, and over again.

This was the longest you and Nico had gone without giving in. Maybe this was finally the end of the torture you two had been putting yourselves through, and you could finally move on.

What a ridiculous and foolish thought.

It was an after party for a win, and you technically had no reason to be there. You weren’t together right now, you had no reason to be there to congratulate him, or hang out with the team despite being friends with most of them.

But you couldn’t help yourself. You knew he’d be there. You wanted to see him, even if it was from a distance. But of course, you maybe got a little too carried away.

A little too drunk, if you will.

Nico could’ve picked you out of a crowd of a thousand people. He’d been watching you all night; admiring you from afar and making sure you didn’t do anything too stupid.

He didn’t care to ask why you were there. He knew why. After a few hours, when you’d downed your eighth shot, he decided it was time to step in. Or maybe it was simply an excuse to talk to you, who knows.

You were about to bring another shot to your lips when it was plucked out of your hands, and you looked up to see Nico hovering over you, leaning down to your ear so you could hear him over the music.

“I think you’ve had enough, don’t you think?” he asked, handing the shot to someone else walking past.