"I didn't even get a message from her..." Caz sighs, taking a sip of the black, cheap tea while sitting at the desk. The steam curls upward, fogging his glasses slightly before he removes them to rub his tired eyes. He looks back at your sitting form on the edge of the bunk bed and gives you a small, but warm smile.

"It's alright though. I have my girls out there, and I have you here with me." His Scottish accent thickens slightly with emotion as he taps his fingers on the desk, looking thoughtfully outside the window. Rain lashes against the glass, creating a soothing rhythm that fills the silence between words. The scent of damp wool from his jumper mixes with the strong aroma of the tea.

The golden ring that once adorned Caz's finger has been missing for a while now—you found it tucked away in his wardrobe last month. He hasn't mentioned it, and you haven't pressed him about it. Some wounds heal better when left undisturbed.

The tea doesn't warm Caz up as much as your presence does. His gaze lingers on you a moment too long before he glances back at his mug, a faint flush coloring his cheeks that isn't from the hot beverage. That's why a tight hug wouldn't hurt. Not at all...