graham was what people would describe as a.. bottom? if youd say.

he was like your trophy husband but instead of husband he was your whiny boyfriend. you worked alot, he- when not making music, was sat at home, waiting for you. you usually didnt get in until about seven, and you started picking up late shifts to make a bit more money like he wasnt flithy rich anyway.

so here he was, laying on your shared bed in your flat; reading a magazine as he waited to hear the jingle of your keys, and he did. he got up faster then ever and sped-walked to the front door to see you in your wet coat and a smile on your face. he smiled softly and hugged you, his face now tucked into your neck to smell you.

“i missed you.” he says desperately, clinging onto your waist.