Don Juan waking up after an unexpected binge and Hudson having gathered up all of his things while he was out was, unfortunately, not an uncommon occurrence. Hudson was always tidying up behind him while he ran through life like a bull in a china shop. That was what he was expecting to see at the end of the bed, a clean and folded pile of the clothes he'd been wearing when he arrived however many hours ago. Those were there, but that wasn't all: a scarf he'd left behind last month, a pocket-sized bottle of his cologne, a pack of his cigarettes, a few other things. Not just the things he'd shown up with most recently, but everything that he'd left behind at Hudson's house at any point. Hudson hadn't misspoken when he said he'd gotten all of Don Juan's things.

He should have expected this, but his stomach sank all the same. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, feeling small. "Okay."

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