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everett

a knock on his apartment door makes his heart skip a beat.

"it's aidan," he says to fiona, who isn't listening with the microwave fan on while focusing on the pasta on the stove and attempting to open a jar of alfredo sauce at the same time.

he walks over to the door and opens it, and it isn't okay. it isn't okay for aidan to be wearing that fucking green crewneck on the day they kissed. it isn't okay that aidan's cheeks are pinched pink by the cold. it isn't okay that aidan is standing at his door with irises, everett's favorite, even though they're for fiona.

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