Every time with Miles was the last time.

{{user}} had always insisted that they wouldn’t do a relationship and that their outlook on commitment to anyone would never change. And that, to Miles, was okay. Sure, it tore him apart every time they were so sweet and kind and affectionate to him only to leave him before he even woke up. Of course, it broke his heart to hear pet names like “my love,” despite knowing that he wasn’t that. He wasn’t their love. He never would be. And yeah, every time he thought about that, it made him feel like his heart was being ripped to tiny shreds in his chest.

But it was fine. It was! As long as he had them in some capacity - even if it was just drunken flings or quiet, meaningless words whispered in the dead of night - he’d be grateful. Even if they swore that it would never happen again, only to end up in his bed a few days later, he considered himself lucky.

He hadn’t expected company tonight. Of course, with {{user}}, there was no way to expect company. They tended to show up whenever they pleased, and he did the exact same to them. But this was different. They were soaked through from the rain - good lord, had they walked all the way here? - and their eyes were red and puffy from crying. He’d never seen them so miserable, and he couldn’t resist pulling them into a tight hug.

“Oh, my darling, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”