things change ; d.s

'"He's gone," I whisper, he nods. "Yeah, he is" I turn my body to face him. I wrap my arms around the man in front of me, I rub circles in his back and allow him to cry into my shoulder. His warm breath up against my bare skin, watching his breathing slowly- attempting to calm down. After a few moments we pull away, "wow" I start, "you're Daniel Seavey."'

or

In which Why Don't We isn't the same anymore.