The Only Vivid Memory.

"What are you doing here?" Emily walked around the man, took the keys from her pocket and inserted them into the lock. "Did you even look at the time?"

"My phone got discharged. I've been waiting for you since eight o'clock," Peter replied, straightening the sleeves of his shirt, which he had previously rolled up.

He always did that. When he was alone- he could indulge weaknesses, if there was someone else nearby, then he had to be perfect to the end. Emily once admired this feature of his. It was now she understood that she had mistakingly taken the man's external desire to please each and everyone for perseverance and seriousness.

"Are you crazy to hang out at my door for four hours?! And if I hadn't come at all, would you be sitting here and getting frozen until the very morning?" Stop, Hayes. Why do you even worry about his well-being? He's nobody to you. "Your Molly or, Dolly, or whoever she is, did she go crazy to not have found you at home?"