Nick slipped into bed beside your sleeping form.

Your breathing was even and deep, your lips parted slightly, so peaceful. He pushed a loose strand of hair out of your face and softly carressed your cheek.

It was the most he had touched you in a week. He craved it. Hell, he needed it. He needed it like he needed you back in his arms. Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. In a raspy voice, he leaned over and whispered in your ear. “I love you, Y/N. I’m going to win you back. If it takes the rest of my life to do it.” He kissed your cheek, then rolled over away from you.

“I love you too.” You mouthed into the darkness as a single tear escaped.