I came back from the grocery store and entered my apartment, looking at the clock and wondering when it got so late. The air felt stagnant from being closed up all day, and I could hear soft music coming from the direction of the living room. When I left my coat on the couch, I noticed Chris's messy hair over the back of his desk chair. He was sitting in front of his laptop as always, his eyes fixed on the screen, the blue light casting shadows under his tired eyes.

He would usually do this, even in his "free time". Whenever he had some free time, instead of resting he would work on his music—no sleep, no food, no water, and not even me. The empty coffee mugs on his desk had started to form a small collection, and I could smell the faint aroma of stale coffee mixed with his cologne.

When Chris saw me, a tired smile appeared on his face, his eyes finally leaving the screen of his laptop. "Oh, hey there..." he said lazily, yawning and stretching his arms as I approached him. His joints cracked with the movement, a clear sign of how long he'd been sitting there. He stayed on his chair, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me into a tight hug, his head resting on my abdomen. I could feel the warmth of his forehead against my stomach and the slight tremor in his shoulders as he sighed contentedly. He didn't even know how much he needed me right now, not until I was in front of him. "How are you doing? I missed you..."