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The apartment is too quiet.
Smirnov tosses and turns in the big, empty bed and wishes that someone would be in the space next to him. His heart aches at the absence, but he knows it’s for the greater good. It’s better for everyone if the bed is empty.
Fuck. How long has it been since I’ve slept alone?
Smirnov opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling that seems to stretch forever above him. His alarm clock ticks incessantly to his right. A few cars honk outside the apartment window every so often, but those noises do nothing to soothe him into slumber. The absence of a second breath and heartbeat is oppressive.
Smirnov sits up in bed and sighs. He rubs his eyes and reaches for his glasses on the nightstand to his right. His fingers close around them. He puts them on and blinks a few times.
“Why’d it have to turn out this way?” Smirnov asks under his breath. Nobody answers his question, but then again, what poor soul would?
He glances at the nightstand. A simple wedding band rests on the smooth surface.
He sighs and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He stands and stretches his legs before he leaves the silent bedroom. He pads down the hallway and past his kids’ empty rooms, as well. The apartment is as silent as a tomb.
“The hell do I do?” Smirnov asks. He flicks on the living room light and looks over the sofa and chairs that surround a table next to the huge windows that overlook the city. New York is still awake, just like him.
If Dorothy can go and spend the night with some friends, why can’t I? Beats sulking all night.
The idea makes Smirnov smile slightly. He glances down at his state of dress. A pair of boxers and a tank top won’t work for some company.
Who should I even have over? Smirnov wonders while he returns to the bedroom. He pulls a pair of grey sweatpants out of his dresser and throws them on while he works through his options. He crosses out more names than he would like due to the ungodly hour of the night.
“C’mon, there has to be someone, ” Smirnov mutters. He leaves the bedroom and returns to the living room. He sits on the sofa and stares out the window while he thinks.
Most of the other officers are asleep right now, and I can’t call someone from the night shift. It’s a Friday night, surely somebody else can’t sleep.
Smirnov lifts his glasses so he can pinch the bridge of his snout.
Someone who can’t sleep…oh!
The perfect person for the job hits Smirnov out of nowhere, but it feels like the most obvious choice possible. He straightens up while his heart skips a beat. He turns his head and locks onto the phone that sits on the end table next to the sofa.
“Surely he’s still awake,” Smirnov says. “Burning the midnight oil, as always.” He gets up and walks to the phone. He picks up the handset and dials the number into the rotary through muscle memory.
The phone buzzes. Smirnov bounces on the balls of his feet while he waits for the man on the other end to pick up. It buzzes again, and his heart rate speeds up a little. He adjusts his glasses a few times.
“Blacksad Detective Agency, John speaking,” a tired and familiar voice says from the other end.
“John!” Smirnov exclaims. His ears perk up, and his tail wags behind him. “How are you?”
“Smirnov?” John asks as surprise colors his voice.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Smirnov replies. He grins and sits at the edge of the sofa.
“What are you doing up so late?” John’s voice is ragged with exhaustion, but the sound soothes Smirnov’s nerves.
“I could ask you the same question, you know,” Smirnov replies.
“Come on, Smirnov. You know I’m nocturnal at heart,” John says before he chuckles.
“Yeah, but you sound tired. You doing okay?”
“Eh. Working on a few cases that don’t want to go anywhere, the usual,” John replies. “It’s exhausting.”
“Maybe you should take a break,” Smirnov suggests.
“Maybe. You have any ideas or something?” John’s voice takes a teasing edge.
“Kind of the reason I called, actually.” Smirnov takes a breath and curls the phone cord in his fingers. His heart thuds in his throat, and his face heats up.
“Oh? What does the great Commissioner Smirnov have in mind?” John teases. The exhaustion has vanished from his voice already.
“Do you want to come over to my apartment? I could order a pizza, maybe. Got plenty of beer here, too,” Smirnov says.
A beat of silence passes. Smirnov tightens his grip on the phone. He prays to God that John won’t refuse and hang up without a second thought.
“Aren’t your wife and kids home, though?” John asks. A hint of nervousness might color his voice, but Smirnov isn’t certain.
“They, uh, no. Dorothy took the kids to a friend’s place. They’re staying the night,” Smirnov explains. His voice wavers a bit while he speaks.
“I see,” John replies. “If that’s the case, I don’t mind crashing at that fancy apartment of yours.”
Smirnov chuckles. “More than enough room for the both of us,” he says.
“I’ll head over right now, is that fine?” John asks after a moment.
“Yeah. I’ll order a pizza, any requests?”
“Pepperoni, I suppose. That or cheese,” John answers.
“Not a sausage guy?”
John makes a disgusted noise. “I’d rather be shot, thanks.”
Smirnov laughs. “I’ll get an extra-large sausage pizza for us to share, then.”
“If you do that, I’ll walk right back out that door,” John warns. Smirnov can hear the smile in his voice, though.
“I’m sure you will,” Smirnov murmurs. “Can’t wait to see you.”
John chuckles softly, and the sound makes Smirnov’s chest grow warm. “Me neither. Been too long since we’ve spent time together.”
“It has, hasn’t it?” Smirnov’s voice becomes wistful while he stares out the window.
Neither of them says anything for a long moment, but they don’t cut off the call either. Smirnov listens to John’s steady breathing and lets it soothe his worries.
“Well, I should head out,” John says after a while.
“Right. See you in a bit.”
“Of course. Bye, Smirnov.”
The line goes dead a second later. Smirnov sets the handset down on the receiver and smiles. His heart pounds against his ribcage. He sinks into the couch and lets the waves of joy wash over him for a few moments.
John’s coming over. He dropped everything to come see me.
Smirnov laughs. He stands up and opens a drawer in the end table to pull a phonebook out. He finds the number for a pizza place nearby and orders a large pepperoni pizza, but he hardly registers the call. He’s too damn excited about John.
Smirnov gives the deliveryman his address after he places his order. He hangs up and heads to the kitchen to find the beer. There’s a nice stockpile of it in the back corner of the fridge that nobody else in the house touches. He pulls a large jug out of the fridge and gets a few mugs from a cupboard before he returns to the living room. He sets them on the table in front of the sofa.
“Should be good enough,” Smirnov murmurs while he wipes his hands dry. He glances down at his attire again, but he can’t be bothered to throw a shirt on.
I’m sure John won’t mind. It’s my apartment, after all. Smirnov chuckles to himself. He sits back down and settles in for the wait.
It doesn’t take long for the pizza to arrive. Smirnov takes it from a bored-looking young fox and hands him the change as well as a hefty tip. He sets the box next to the beer and resists the urge to grab a slice to munch on during his wait.
The minutes tick by, and the hand on the clock makes its journey down one half of the circle. Smirnov watches it move at a snail’s pace and huffs. He can’t force the time to move any faster, but his heart would definitely appreciate it.
The minutes drag on endlessly, but there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Smirnov is about to doze off when a few knocks echo from the front door and drags him away from his brush with sleep. He stands up and walks to the door while his tail wags behind him.
“Coming!” Smirnov calls. He stops at the door and grabs the handle as his heart pounds. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself.
It’s just John, he’s just here for some food and drink. Just here to spend a little time, Smirnov reminds himself. He twists the handle and opens the door.
John is on the other side. The first thing Smirnov notices is that his arms are bare. He has foregone a suit jacket for a white dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He still wears a pair of grey slacks, but this outfit is much more subdued. Intimate.
Smirnov couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried.
“John!” Smirnov exclaims. He opens his arms wide, and his tail wags so hard behind him that it might fall off.
“Hey, Smirnov,” John murmurs. He accepts the embrace easily and wraps solid arms around Smirnov’s middle. Smirnov drinks in the warmth like a dying man. He holds John tightly and sighs in contentment.
“I hope the ride over wasn’t bad,” Smirnov says.
“No, it was okay. Not as much traffic this time of day,” John replies. His voice rumbles in his chest and carries over to Smirnov. Smirnov’s heart flutters.
I missed you. He pulls back after a moment and holds John at arm’s length to get a good look at him. John’s green eyes are just as piercing as ever despite the bags under them. He wears a tired smile like his favorite coat. Warmth oozes from him both literally and metaphorically.
“Well, come in,” Smirnov says. He backs away from John and gestures for him to enter the apartment.
“Gladly, thank you.” John grins at Smirnov and pats his shoulder before he walks further inside. The spot he touched burns.
Smirnov follows John to the living room. John licks his chops when he spots the pizza on the table. He sits down on the sofa and stretches out before he sighs. Smirnov sits on the other side and adjusts his glasses.
“Such a nice place you’ve got here,” John remarks once he’s settled.
“Thanks,” Smirnov replies. “All the decorating was…Dorothy’s idea.” His chest stings at the thought.
John cocks a brow at Smirnov, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes the large bottle of beer and unscrews the cap. He pours both of them a glass before he sets the bottle down.
“How have you been, then?” John asks after he pours the alcohol. He hands Smirnov a glass.
“Stressed,” Smirnov answers truthfully. “Between work and home, haven’t had much downtime at all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” John says. He takes a drink from his glass.
Smirnov shrugs. “We all hit rough patches sometimes.”
John snorts. “Don’t I know it?”
“Well, what about you?” Smirnov asks. “You haven’t told me what you’ve been up to, what do you have going on?” He opens the pizza box while he speaks, and the delicious aroma of pepperoni pizza washes through his senses.
“For once, things aren’t so bad,” John says. He reaches forward to take a slice of pizza.
“Yeah? No drought in cases?” Smirnov does the same and takes a bite. He has to suppress a moan because of how good it is.
John shakes his head. “No drought right now. They’ve been paying pretty well, too.” He takes a large bite of his slice and groans.
Smirnov’s heart skips. “G-glad to hear that, John. You deserve to have good things go your way,” he says. He takes another sip of beer and relishes the slight burn as it travels down his throat.
“Hey, we both do. You’re a much better man than me.” John nudges Smirnov while he talks.
“I don’t know about that, but thanks.” Smirnov smiles before he continues to eat his pizza.
John frowns at Smirnov. He sets his beer down and studies him for a bit while he munches on his pizza. Smirnov tries not to squirm under the intense gaze, but he’s pretty sure he fails spectacularly.
“You’ve been hiding something,” John observes.
Fuck. Smirnov’s eyes widen for a second before he sighs and rubs the back of his neck.
“Busted,” he says with a chuckle. “Hate it when you use your detective skills on me.”
“What can I say? I’m a people person.”
“That you are, Blacksad.” Smirnov sets his slice back in the box and takes his glasses off to wipe the lenses with his shirt.
“So what’s bothering you? You can tell me,” John pushes. His voice is gentle, and his eyes are soft.
Smirnov opens his mouth, but he hesitates. Doubt floods into his mind like rainwater after a storm. John doesn’t say a thing while Smirnov debates with himself. He bites his lip and looks away.
Screw it. He’s my best friend, anyway.
“Dorothy and I…we aren’t happy together anymore,” Smirnov says after a long stretch of silence. He runs a hand over his head and glances at John.
John blinks. “U-uh, I’m sorry?” He furrows his brows.
“It was a long time coming. We haven’t been happy as a couple, I can’t please her and she doesn’t make me happy. I think we just drifted apart over the years,” Smirnov explains. He faces John fully once again while he speaks.
John’s expression evens out during the explanation. He nods along with what Smirnov says and strokes his chin. He gestures for Smirnov to continue when he stops.
Shit, okay. “I suppose we aren’t technically together anymore if that makes sense? We stay married for the looks and the kids, but that’s it. She does her own thing most of the time, and well…” Smirnov trails off and gestures to the empty apartment that surrounds them. He takes a long drink of his beer and relishes the burn in his throat.
And I’m hopelessly in love with you, but that’s just the biggest detail.
“Ah, I see. I’m sorry, Smirnov,” John murmurs. He fixes an apologetic look on Smirnov before he sets a hand on his shoulder.
Smirnov blushes at the contact. “It’s all right, John. It’s just how life goes sometimes.”
“I’m here for you, okay? If you want to talk about it some more, I’m here,” John continues. His grip tightens and his gaze grows fiercer,
“Thank you, really,” Smirnov whispers. He sets a hand over John’s and smiles softly at him.
“Hell, who knows? There’s other fish in the sea if you’re looking in the right place.” John winks at Smirnov after he speaks.
Smirnov’s chest stutters and comes to a halt for a moment. He forgets how to breathe, and the fur on the back of his neck stands on end. He isn’t sure if he heard John right for a second, but the earnest expression on the other man’s face tells him everything he needs to know.
Is he…
Smirnov prays that he might have a chance.
“Uh, you okay over there?” John asks before he frowns. He waves a hand in front of Smirnov’s face.
Smirnov remembers how to breathe a second later. His heart pounds, and he nods.
“Y-yeah, sorry. Just…glad you understand,” Smirnov stammers.
“Of course. I’ll always support you, no matter what,” John replies. He raises his glass in Smirnov’s direction before he takes a swig.
Smirnov grins. A monumental weight has been lifted from his shoulders at that. Even his breathing seems lighter now. He resists the urge to leap across the sofa and wrap John into a tight hug, or more.
“Let’s stop talking about this depressing stuff, yeah? We’re supposed to have a good time together,” Smirnov says.
“Of course.” John pats Smirnov’s shoulder once more before he lets go. He grabs his discarded slice of pizza and finishes it in a few bites. Smirnov does the same and washes it down with the last of his glass of beer.
A pleasant warmth spreads through his body when he finishes his drink. He pours another glass, as does John.
“So what kind of plans do you have in mind now?” John asks. He scoots a little closer to Smirnov.
“What do you mean?” Smirnov cocks his head.
“You’re sort of an eligible bachelor now! You could go out on the town, have some fun. Meet a few new ladies.” John waggles his eyebrows as he speaks.
Smirnov snorts and rolls his eyes. “No, I think I’ll pass. I’ve got my hands full being the Commissioner, remember?”
“I guess you’re right. Too stuck up to have some fun.” John downs about half of his second glass in one go.
He’s trying to get drunk. Smirnov smiles while he takes a second slice of pizza.
“Not too stuck up to ask a friend to come over,” Smirnov points out.
“Lord knows how you can stand having me around for long,” John shoots back. “Black cats are bad luck, remember?”
“And you’re lucky I don’t believe in superstition.” Smirnov winks at John.
“O-of course,” John stammers. He chuckles and scratches the back of his head. He scoots a little closer, and his thigh presses against Smirnov’s.
Heat rushes through Smirnov at the contact, but he doesn’t try to push him away. He hesitates for a second before he sets a hand on John’s leg. The look John gives him sends a shiver down his spine.
Maybe I have a chance. Maybe.
“Thanks for coming over,” Smirnov says. He nudges John’s shoulder with his.
“I couldn’t leave you high and dry. We’re supposed to be best friends or something.” John downs the rest of his second glass.
“Yeah.” Smirnov scratches the back of his neck. “I’m sorry we haven’t stayed in touch lately.”
John shrugs. “I was traveling across the country, you’ve been swamped with a crime spree. Life happens.”
“I suppose it does.”
“And we ended up back together, didn’t we?” John wraps an arm around Smirnov’s shoulders while he speaks.
“We did, didn’t we?” Smirnov’s face catches fire. John is like a furnace next to him with the body heat he radiates. He leans into the source of warmth and sighs.
“We did. Don’t think I’d want to be anywhere else right now.” John’s words slur together a little bit. He lets go of Smirnov to pour himself a third glass, but his arm returns to the same spot as soon as he’s done.
“Not sure you can, either. You’ve had too many to drive home,” Smirnov replies.
“Oh yeah? Think i can’t drive myself back home?”
“I’d probably have to arrest you for driving under the influence,” Smirnov points out. He squeezes John’s leg.
“...ah. Fair point.” John grins sheepishly at him. “What do you suggest I do, then?”
“You could stay the night here,” Smirnov suggests. His heart leaps into his throat the second those words come out.
“Yes! Yes. Please.” John squeezes Smirnov tighter. “Please, I’d love that.” He laughs and drinks some more of his beer.
“Okay, okay. Just lay off the drinks, okay?” Smirnov wrestles the cup free of John’s grip and sets it on the table.
John levels a pouty look on Smirnov, but Smirnov doesn’t crack. He stares John down until he deflates with a whine.
He’s cute when he’s buzzed. More touchy.
“If you’re going to stay the night, you should get more comfortable. Need any pajamas?” Smirnov asks.
“You have some?”
“In my dresser in the bedroom,” Smirnov replies while he points to the hallway behind him.
John nods and lets go of Smirnov before he stands up. He stumbles toward the bedroom, and Smirnov watches him go. He misses the warmth already.
It isn’t long before John returns to the living room clad in a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top. His sculpted forearms are exposed, and his pudgy belly is visible through the shirt. The sight takes Smirnov’s breath away.
“Man, I’m exhausted,” John says before he yawns. He stretches his arms high over his head and sinks onto the couch next to Smirnov again. Their legs touch, and John wraps one arm around Smirnov. It hangs down over Smirnov’s chest and returns the familiar warmth to him.
“Do I even want to know how long you’ve been awake for?” Smirnov asks.
“Probably not,” John drawls. He grins at Smirnov before he closes his eyes. He yawns again.
“Then you should get some rest. You can take my bed for tonight if you want.”
“I’d like to spend a little more time with you, first. Whole point of coming over here,” John replies. His words are more heavily slurred now that the alcohol has worked its way through his system.
“All right, John. If you want.” Smirnov pats John’s leg.
John’s smile becomes softer. He cracks his eyes open to look at Smirnov for a long moment before he closes them again. His breathing is steady, and his heartbeat is strong.
Smirnov takes in his beauty for a few moments while he tries to gather his thoughts. Every time he tries to think of something to say, he cannot find the courage to speak.
He could be into you, Smirnov. He dropped a few hints, and he’s being affectionate. He might like you back…
But what if he doesn’t? What if I read this wrong? Smirnov swallows and continues to study John’s peaceful expression.
“Doesn’t matter. You’ve gotta say something sometime,” John mutters. “Never know.”
Smirnov takes a few breaths to calm his racing heart. He shifts a bit in John’s grip to face him fully.
“John,” Smirnov says. “John, I…need to tell you something. It’s been on my mind for a while.”
Smirnov receives a soft snore in response. He blinks and furrows his brows.
He fell asleep, just like that. Smirnov shakes John’s lightly, but he doesn’t stir. He must need the rest.
John’s head falls to the side until it rests on Smirnov’s shoulder. John makes a soft noise and nuzzles against it. Smirnov’s heart clenches at the sight. He has to resist the urge to drop a kiss on the top of it.
Should probably get him into bed. Or I could stay here.
The warmth John radiates is too good to resist. Smirnov doesn’t try to get up. He takes his glasses off and sets them on the table before he rests his head on the back of the couch. He closes his eyes and listens to John’s soft breathing in his ear. Each exhale tickles his fur.
Smirnov is lulled into sleep within minutes, and it’s the best slumber he’s had in years. He dreams of black fur and green eyes.
Smirnov wakes when something heavy drags across his body. He cracks his eyes open to see another pair that stare at him with warmth. They widen, and the movement stops.
“John?” Smirnov mumbles. He wipes the sleep from his eyes with a hand.
“Morning, Smirnov,” John whispers. Smirnov watches as he pulls his arm away.
Oh, no. Smirnov snatches his wrist and pulls it back to the position it was in before they went to sleep. He shoots John a stern look, and John chuckles. He doesn’t try to pull away again.
“Okay then,” John says. He pats Smirnov’s leg with his free hand.
Smirnov smiles at him. But it turns into a wince when pain shoots through his head. He presses a palm to his forehead and closes his eyes.
“Damn, that smarts,” he grunts.
“I’m sure mine is worse,” John replies. “Thank God we didn’t get wasted.”
Smirnov chuckles. “Thank God for that.” He looks away from John and out the window in front of them. Morning light filters through the window and adds to the annoying headache.
Smirnov could use a few extra hours of sleep and a glass of water, but he’s never felt happier. He woke up with John at his side, and nothing could be better than that regardless of where they both stand.
I can do it. I can.
“John,” Smirnov says. He puts his glasses on and turns to look John square in the eyes.
“Yeah? What is it?” John asks. His gaze shifts to one of concern.
“There’s something I need to tell you. Something that’s been on my mind for a while,” Smirnov continues. He rubs his thumb along the back of John’s hand.
“Is everything okay?” John frowns.
Smirnov shakes his head and chuckles. “No, quite the opposite. I, uh…” he trails off and sighs. His heart is about to burst from his chest, and his hands are clammy.
Take your time,” John murmurs. He squeezes Smirnov.
Just fucking say it, Smirnov! Smirnov growls and pinches the bridge of his snout hard.
“I’m in love with you, John!” Smirnov blurts before he can overthink again.
John’s eyes turn as wide as saucers. He stiffens and his ears stick straight up in the air.
“You- what? ” John asks while disbelief bleeds into his tone.
Can’t turn back now. “I’m in love with you, I think I have been for a long time. Maybe even before my marriage fell apart, I just didn’t- didn’t know what it was,” Smirnov explains.
John is quiet for a long time, but he doesn’t remove his arm. He opens and closes his mouth a few times while he stares at Smirnov. His ears flatten, and his whiskers twitch a few times. Smirnov is struck with the urge to both hide underneath the couch as well as call it a practical joke at the same time.
He doesn’t act on those impulses, though.
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. I just…you’re an amazing person, John. You’re kind and smart, and you always help the people who need it most. You’re funny, and you’d drop everything to cheer me up,” Smirnov rambles. He places a hand on John’s thigh.
“Smirnov…” John trails off. His eyes are glassy.
“Helps that you’re damn good-looking, too,” Smirnov adds.
John laughs and rubs his eye. “Never expected you to say anything like that,” he says.
“Neither did I, but things change,” Smirnov replies. Hope blooms in his chest when John smiles at him.
“I’m glad they have, selfish as it sounds,” John says. He leans closer to Smirnov. “I feel the same about you. Always have, for as long as we’ve known each other.”
“John.” Smirnov's eyes fill with unshed tears as that hope bursts into joy.
John smiles. He rests his forehead against Smirnov’s so their eyes are mere inches apart.
“You mean that?” Smirnov breathes. This can’t be a dream. There’s no way I’m dreaming.
“You kidding? Big, strong chief of police like you? Always bending the rules so I can solve my cases, inviting me over to dinner, and staring at me with those beautiful eyes? This old cat didn’t stand a chance in hell,” John says. “Was worried I’d be pining after a married man all my life.”
“Don’t think you have to worry about that,” Smirnov replies. “If you do want to do this, I mean.”
“Of course I want to do this,” John says. He finds Smirnov’s free hand and laces their fingers together. “I’m not gonna let this chance go, Smirnov.”
“I don’t want to, either,” Smirnov whispers. “But we can’t just tell people about this. About us.” Icy fear stabs his heart at the thought.
“And we won’t. We’ll make this work, yeah?” John stares into Smirnov’s eyes with conviction. He squeezes Smirnov’s hand.
“Y-yeah. Okay.” Who could say no to a face like that?
“If we can be together, I’ll do whatever I can to stay with you,” John promises.
“So will I.” Smirnov squeezes John’s hand back.
“Good.” John pauses and glances at Smirnov’s lips before he licks his. “Could I-”
“I’m gonna be mad if you don’t,” Smirnov says. He smirks.
John laughs. “Better not disappoint you.” He closes the gap without hesitation.
John’s lips slot against Smirnov’s like they were meant to be there. Smirnov hums and presses back. John tastes of beer and pizza, but cheap cigarette smoke lies underneath that. There’s another flavor of something Smirnov can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s distinctly John. He can’t get enough.
Smirnov licks further into John’s mouth, and John grunts. He pulls Smirnov closer until their chests touch. Warmth spreads like wildfire through Smirnov’s body. He tries to deepen the kiss even further, but John stops him with a firm hand on his chest.
Smirnov shoots him a quizzical look when they pull apart.
“As good as that was,” John starts to say before he steals another chaste kiss, “Maybe we should go on a date or two before we move things forward.”
“Didn’t this count as a date?” Smirnov asks. He deflates.
John chuckles. “I don’t think this counts. How about we get a coffee sometime, or go see a movie?”
“That would be lovely,” Smirnov replies. He beams at John. His body is light and airy with joy.
“How does later today sound?” John asks. He sits back on the couch, and Smirnov does the same. John keeps his arm thrown over Smirnov’s, and Smirnov holds tight to his wrist.
“It sounds perfect,” Smirnov says. He can’t keep the smile from his face.
“Good.” John kisses the top of Smirnov’s head. Smirnov leans into John’s body and closes his eyes in order to relish the feeling.
Neither of them speaks for a while. They just bask in each other’s presence.
Maybe my luck hasn’t gone downhill, after all. I’ve got what I wanted. Maybe I can start fresh.
I can do anything with John.
(Image by @TempoMcFlurry on Twitter)