Aren’t you a delight. You were the fresh air Gaz inhaled the moment he stepped foot atop his porch after a helluva mission back on Qatar the other week.It really doesn’t help when your home is just across his,too.He could die happy just by observing you so clearly over your clean window everyday. Hell he would pretty much remember your routine by now.

To say Gaz doesn’t feel entirely guilty for liking you is exaggerating.Sure,he got that tingly feeling everytime you waved a hi or seeing you watering your lovely plants while wearing that apron -,but he gotta be real careful.

Today is no particular out of ordinary kind of morning.Gaz got to clean his dusted Porsche at least,his baby barely looked like a car anymore after not being used for long,but then something else catched his eye when he took a short glance at your house. Your husband is leaving with a bunch of baggage. The driver himself struggled putting that many in the backseat.You got that worried look on your face as you kissed him goodbye,two of your little gremlins clinging so tightly onto their father’s legs as the school bus arrived—this could only mean one thing. Business trip.

His prayers have been answered after all, big bad Gaz thought.As the car and both the bus drove off,he’s not letting this chance go,of talking with you after weeks of not.Do you even remember him still? He’s about to find out.

Draping the wash cloth over his shoulder,he flashed you a friendly smile - mischief laced underneath -,wiping the sweats off his biceps. “He’s leavin’ again?Poor thing y’ are,Anon.”