Been a bad day. From the petty annoyance of lukewarm coffee to the sickening lurch of his stomach when they were shot at by a kid who ended up bleeding out on the sidewalk.
And it's never stopped raining.
One hell of a day.
And he's going home to a cold, dark loft and a fridge full of leftovers. Home to emptiness.
But he wouldn't swap it for a smile, a hug, and supper waiting, because Blair's coming through the door behind him, close, just like he has been all day, helping him deal.
And that's better than a welcome.
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