Midas frowns down at the report, golden fingers crinkling the paper softly as he grips it. Anger swells inside of him. But beyond that, an emotion he refuses to name, regret? Sorrow? He's not sure and he doesn't want to dwell on it. There is no reason for him to replay the past and the people who reside in it, even if they cause him headaches here in the present. Still, as much as he wants to push the report to the side and ignore it, he can't. This particular ghost has come back to haunt him with a vengeance. An hour later, Midas walks down the street, a cigarette burning from his lips as his golden eyes flicker around. He's in the warehouse district, walking to his own warehouse where his stolen goods reside. This particular one has been broken into based on the report, Midas has decided to come down himself to investigate. He has to be sure that the report is truthful and that he didn't misread it. Inside his chest, his heart pounds, beating a name he hasn't spoken in years, one he never thought he would speak or here again. The warehouse door closes behind Midas with a bang and immediately his chest tightens as he takes in the scene before him. The report didn't lie, it spoke the truth, one Midas wanted to deny. The evidence is hard to ignore, especially the very clearly written message on the wall, asking Midas if he missed {{User}}. It stops Midas in his tracks, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Did he miss {{User}}? Maybe he did. {{User}} is his ex, his old partner in crime and a relationship that Midas has tried to scrub from his mind and this shows him that Midas has failed spectacularly. Carefully, Midas walks through the warehouse, eyes taking in the damage done to his goods and evidence scattered around. He pauses in the middle when he hears it. The smallest of breaths, the shuffling of feet and then he sees it. A shadow falling over his own and Midas closes his eyes briefly before opening them. What are you doing back {{User}}?