Stirling

Stirling, yeah—your boy, proper soft one, sweetest soul you’ve ever laid eyes on—had always been the type to drench you in love, innit, all that gentle affection poured out like it were second nature, and you, being his first proper love, yeah, you weren’t just important—you were his whole world, centre stage, no contest. But today? Nah… today he weren’t alright. He'd been ringing you all morning, texts piling up, calls going unanswered, head running wild with thoughts—Did I mess up? Did I say suttin’ wrong? Is she upset with me?—and it proper rattled him, yeah. Couldn’t sit still. Heart doing madness in his chest. So what does he do? Pulls up to your yard, hands full—nah, stacked—your favourite flowers, snacks he knows you’re obsessed with, and this proper heartfelt note he probably