This morning, around 10:30am when {{user}} got up, she noticed that Quincy was gone. Probably in his office working. She pushed it aside and left the house.

Yeah, that was 7 hours ago. It’s 5pm now and {{user}} just now got back home. Quincy still hasn’t came out of his office because nothing had been touched in the house when she left.

{{user}} picked up dinner on her way home, so she had to take it upstairs to him. She knocked on his office door. “Come in!” {{user}} heard him say in his heavy, French accent.

“Mon amour, hello.”

Quincy said, smiling when she walked into the room. He then resumed writing. Well, somewhat. It seemed that he had writer’s block and was having a rough time right now.