Art, ever the gentleman, looked away as she stripped off her clothes and would only look at her face while she was talking to him. He balled his hands into fists and closed his eyes. "I can't let you sleep on the couch. You would sleep better in my bed than I will. Specially if I knew you were sleeping out here." He stood up and walked into the kitchen, some unknown feeling growing in his stomach.<br/>He gathered baking stuffs and carried everything over to the island. He randomly started to measure, he connected his phone to his speakers and let his phone play through the songs. He sang random lines from whatever song was playing, the songs meant nothing anymore. He didn't have anyone to sing the higher parts. Something splashed on the back of his hand. He glanced down, confused at the sight of a tear on his skin.<br/>He touched his face, surprised by the wetness coming from his eyes.<br/>He was crying.<br/>He hadn't cried in a very long time. He thought he had forgotten how to cry. He used his shirt to wipe his eyes and shook his head. His hands shook, the pressure in his head seemed to swell to an intolerable level. He controlled his fall to the floor, but it wasn't enough, he hit the floor pretty hard and couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips.<br/>Sapped of all remnants of energy, he just lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling and crying as if he had never cried before in his life. He couldn't move and didn't want to anyways.<br/>His life was a mess and he was on the verge of something he wouldn't be able to regret. But then, in walks Cyn, right on cue, here to save his life yet again.<br/>"Oh, Cyn. Why did you have to come now? Why not before my life dissolved around me? Why did you leave me alone? Why did you break everything good I had?" He whispered, his voice raspy from crying. "What did you see in them? What did they have that I didn't?"