It had been a few days since their fight, the fight that left them both alone, a fight that seemed to be the last straw for both of them. Jean doesn't even know how it started, but what he did know was that by the end of the night, Marco had his stuff packed and he was on his way to his friends house. It had broke Jean, knowing that he fucked up enough that he had lost Marco, possibly forever. He was beside him for the first two days, bursting into tears every time he crossed the threshold to their room, every time he even thought of Marco, but it slowly died down into a burning sadness that consumed him, but he was able to still function properly. Until tonight. He lied in the middle of their bed, their comforter wrapped around his body, and his phone pressed to his ear, just needing to hear Marco's voice again. It rang twice before he picked up, and Jean had to sniffle to compose himself. "S-sorry. I'm really a mess right now." He said with a dry, sad laugh.