He didn't know what he'd do without her.
What he'd do without those four dazzling eyes that were all his. That purple hair dye he hated the smell of and would sell his soul to smell again. The smile that said 'I love you more than air' while the words were 'You're an idiot'. That overweight and so perfectly glorious body. The brilliant snark in her voice. The warmth when she said his name. Her smell. Her taste. Herself.
Chase Stein didn't know what he'd do without Gertrude Yorkes in his life.
Now that she's gone...
He still doesn't know.