032. the eve

( the thirty second chapter )

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The evening air was heavy with unspoken tensions as the Heywards walked up the marble steps of the Cameron estate. Olivine's nerves twisted tighter with every step, her parents flanking her like guards. She clutched the cupcake box in her hands like a shield, wishing it could protect her from the inevitable chaos this dinner was bound to bring.

"Remember, we're here to be polite," Mariah said softly, her calm tone a sharp contrast to the storm brewing in her husband's expression. Noland gave a stiff nod but said nothing, his eyes narrowing as they took in the opulent facade of the Cameron mansion.

Before they could knock, the door swung open, revealing Rafe leaning casually in the frame. His crisp white button-down was unbuttoned just enough to be infuriatingly intentional, and his slacks clung to his frame in a way that made Olivine's cheeks flush. His hair was perfectly tousled, and the smirk on his face widened when his eyes landed on her.

"You made it," he said smoothly, his gaze raking over her dress before settling on her face. "You look... unreal."

Olivine swallowed, trying to keep her composure. "Thanks. You look quite handsome."

Noland cleared his throat, the sound sharp and deliberate. Rafe straightened, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before he extended a hand to Olivine's father.

"Mr. Heyward," Rafe said, his voice polite but firm. "It's good to see you again."

Noland shook his hand, his grip clearly meant to convey that he wasn't here for pleasantries. "Raphael," he replied, his tone icy.

Rafe turned to Mariah, who smiled warmly and accepted his handshake with far less tension. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Rafe," she said, her voice pleasant. "Thank you for having us."

"It's our pleasure," Rafe replied, flashing a grin that might have been charming if it hadn't felt slightly calculated.

They stepped inside, and Rose Cameron appeared almost instantly, her heels clicking against the polished floors as she made her way toward them. She exuded effortless grace, her warm smile practiced but sincere enough to put Mariah at ease.

"Welcome, welcome!" Rose said, clasping Mariah's hands like they were old friends. "You must be Olivine's mother. What a pleasure to finally meet you."

Mariah matched her energy, offering a warm laugh. "And you must be Mrs. Cameron. This home is absolutely beautiful."

Rose waved a hand dismissively, though her smile didn't waver. "Oh, thank you. Please, come in."

Mariah held up the cupcake box, her eyes sparkling. "Olivine baked these for your family. She's quite the talent in the kitchen."

"Cupcakes?" Wheezie piped up from behind her mother, her face lighting up. "Oh my gosh, I love cupcakes!"

Sarah appeared then, descending the staircase with the grace of someone who knew exactly how to command a room. She raised an eyebrow at Olivine, her lips curling into a smirk. "Olivine Heyward's legendary cakes?" she teased, her tone dripping with innuendo. "I might just have to try one."

Olivine chuckled nervously, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "They're just cupcakes," she said quickly, hoping to downplay the moment.

Rafe rolled his eyes but stayed quiet, his gaze lingering on Olivine like she was the only person in the room.

Before the conversation could spiral further, the doorbell rang. Ward excused himself to answer it, returning moments later with Pope in tow.

Olivine's breath caught at the sight of her brother. He looked slightly uncomfortable in his crisp white shirt and baggy jeans, his usual easy confidence tempered by the grandeur of the Camerons' home.

"Sorry I'm late," Pope said, his voice steady despite the clear tension in his shoulders. "I had something with friends that ran over."

Ward dismissed it with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "No issue at all. We're glad you could make it."

Pope gave him an awkward nod before his eyes landed on Olivine. The tightness in his expression softened slightly, though the unease never fully left his face.

They moved into the grand living room, where a gold-encrusted glass table sat surrounded by nine cushioned chairs. The tension in the air was almost suffocating as everyone took their seats.

Rafe, ever the opportunist, placed his hand on the small of Olivine's back as he guided her to her chair. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, "You look so fucking good. If I wasn't trying to make a good impression, I'd be on my knees right now—"

"Rafe," Olivine hissed, her face flaming as she swatted his chest.

He chuckled, pulling out her chair before taking the seat beside her. On her other side, Pope glared at Rafe like he wanted to throttle him, though Rafe didn't seem to notice—or care.

The table settled into a strained rhythm, with Mariah and Rose exchanging polite conversation while Noland and Ward stared each other down like two opposing generals. Sarah, clearly enjoying the tension, sipped her drink with a knowing smirk, while Wheezie was too busy eyeing the cupcakes to notice the palpable animosity.

It wasn't until Ward cleared his throat that the attention shifted. "So," he began, his voice calm but authoritative, "why don't you two tell us how you got together? I've heard Rafe's version, but I'd love to hear the full story. I'm sure your parents are curious as well."

Noland rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, while Mariah shot him a warning glance. "That's a great idea," she said, smiling tightly. "Go ahead, sweetheart."

Olivine hesitated, glancing at Rafe for support. He gave her a reassuring nod, his usual smirk replaced by something softer.

"Well," she began, her voice slightly shaky, "it started last summer. We had a connection after talking to each other at a party..."

"The one before summer starts," Rafe supplied smoothly. "We chilled for a little bit, she was uh very persistent."

"Says you, you were the one who told me to talk to you," Olivine admitted, her lips twitching into a small smile.

"Borderline annoying," Pope muttered under his breath, earning a sharp glare from Mariah.

Despite the tension, Olivine managed to finish the story, her voice steadying as she spoke. By the end, there was a flicker of warmth in her tone, though the weight of her family's disapproval lingered in the background.

Ward leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "Well, it's certainly an interesting story. I'm glad to hear it from both sides."

"Very interesting," Noland said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mariah quickly interjected, her smile forced but pleasant. "You've raised a very charming young man," she said to Ward and Rose. "Rafe is one of a kind."

The room erupted into chaos. Sarah choked on her drink, while Wheezie tried to stifle her giggles. Pope, sitting stiffly beside Olivine, coughed violently, his face turning red as he fought to compose himself.

Rose raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable, while Rafe looked smugger than ever. "One of a kind," he repeated, flashing Olivine a grin. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Olivine buried her face in her hands, silently cursing her mom. This dinner was going to be a long one.

The laughter and choking subsided, but the tension remained thick in the air. Ward Cameron leaned forward, his calculating gaze moving between Olivine and Rafe. He steepled his fingers, the picture of a man trying to appear gracious while clearly evaluating every move.

"I must admit," he began, his smooth Southern drawl carrying a hint of an edge, "when Rafe first mentioned he was seeing someone, I didn't expect... well, I didn't expect her to be someone like you, Olivine."

The words hung in the air like a blade, their meaning ambiguous but sharp. Noland's jaw tightened, but Mariah stepped in before he could speak.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Mariah said, her voice honeyed but firm, her smile unwavering. "Our daughter is someone anyone would be lucky to have in their life."

Ward raised a brow, clearly not expecting the quick comeback. "Of course. Olivine seems... lovely. It's just rare for Rafe to bring someone serious to our home. He's always been a bit of a... free spirit."

"Or reckless," Pope muttered, his voice low but audible enough to make Rafe turn his head sharply.

"Got something to say, Pope?" Rafe asked, his tone laced with challenge.

Pope didn't flinch, meeting Rafe's gaze with a cool defiance. "Plenty," he said, "but I'll keep it polite since we're guests."

"Pope," Mariah warned, shooting her son a look that promised consequences later.

Rafe smirked, leaning back in his chair like he'd won some unspoken battle. "Smart move," he said, his voice dripping with condescension.

Olivine glared at Rafe, her patience wearing thin. "Can you not?" she whispered sharply, her fingers tightening around the napkin in her lap.

Rafe glanced at her, the smirk slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of guilt. "Sorry," he muttered, though it was clear he wasn't sorry at all.

Rose, ever the diplomat, broke the awkward silence with a bright smile. "Well, I think it's wonderful that you two found each other," she said, her tone cheerful. "It's not every day Rafe brings someone into his life who's so... grounded. I'm sure you're a wonderful influence on him, Olivine."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cameron," Olivine said, her voice steady despite the tension crackling around her.

"Grounded," Sarah echoed, swirling her wine glass as she leaned back in her chair. "That's one way to put it. I mean, Rafe's practically floating most of the time."

Wheezie snorted, and even Pope couldn't hide his smirk. Rafe shot Sarah a look but didn't rise to the bait, instead focusing his attention back on Olivine.

"So, what's next for you, Olivine?" Ward asked, his tone casual but probing. "Rafe mentioned you want to dapple in engineering or science. Is there a school you've got an eye on?"

Olivine straightened in her seat, feeling the weight of his question. "I've had an eye on Charleston University, but it's been a dream of mine to go to an Ivy League School " she said carefully. "But my focus right now is figuring out what path feels right for me."

"A wise approach," Rose said, nodding approvingly. "It's always good to keep your options open. Rafe could learn a thing or two from that."

Rafe rolled his eyes, his jaw tightening. "Thanks, Rose," he said flatly.

"You dance ballet, right?" Wheezie asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. "That's so cool. Do you wear the pointe shoes and everything?"

Olivine smiled, grateful for the lighter topic. "I do. It's tough, but it's rewarding. And yes, the pointe shoes are as painful as they look."

"Pointe shoes, cupcakes, and taming my brother," Sarah quipped, raising her glass in mock admiration. "Quite the résumé."

"Sarah," Rose chided gently, though her lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

Olivine managed a soft laugh, though her nerves hadn't fully settled. Across the table, she could feel Pope's eyes on her, silently asking if she was okay. She gave him a small nod, hoping to ease his worry, but his frown remained.

As the meal progressed, the conversation ebbed and flowed, with Mariah doing her best to bridge the gap between the families. Noland stayed mostly quiet, his sharp eyes observing everything. Ward, for his part, played the role of gracious host, though his questions often carried an undercurrent of judgment.

Rafe, meanwhile, couldn't seem to keep his eyes—or hands—off Olivine. Every so often, his hand would brush hers under the table, or he'd lean in to whisper something in her ear, his tone low and teasing.

At one point, as dessert was served, he murmured, "I can't stop staring at you. It's a problem."

Olivine glared at him, trying to hide her flushed cheeks. "Focus, Rafe," she whispered back.

"I am," he said, his voice soft but intense. "On you."

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Across the table, Pope watched the exchange with barely concealed irritation. When Rafe leaned back in his chair, looking smug, Pope finally snapped.

"Do you even care how this looks?" he asked, his voice low but heated.

Rafe tilted his head, feigning confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Pope said, his jaw clenched. "Parading her around like some trophy when you don't even—"

"Pope," Olivine interrupted, her voice sharp. "That's enough."

The table fell silent, all eyes on the siblings. Pope looked at her, his expression a mix of frustration and concern, but he didn't say anything else.

Ward cleared his throat, his tone even but pointed. "Well, it's clear there's a lot of passion in this room," he said, his eyes lingering on Rafe and Pope. "Passion can be a good thing, but it needs to be directed wisely."

Rafe smirked, clearly unbothered by the thinly veiled warning, while Pope muttered something under his breath.

Olivine sighed, her appetite gone. She glanced at Rafe, who gave her a reassuring smile, but it did little to ease the knot in her stomach.

The night wasn't over, and she had a sinking feeling that the real storm was yet to come.

The room grew uncomfortably still as the faint clinking of silverware subsided, leaving an oppressive silence hanging over the table. Ward, who had been eyeing the cupcakes thoughtfully, leaned back in his chair and smirked.

"You know," he began, his Southern drawl slow and deliberate, "all this talk about young love got me thinking about my first. Sweet girl—Cassandra. She had this way about her, you know? Always knew how to keep a man on his toes."

He chuckled, glancing at Noland. "You remember her, don't you, Noland? You two were friends back in the day."

The air in the room shifted immediately. Noland's brow shot up, his fists tightening on the arms of his chair. Pope, Mariah, and Olivine exchanged knowing looks, collectively slouching back in their seats as if bracing for the inevitable.

Mariah's lips twitched into a wry smile, though her eyes betrayed her irritation. "Here we go," she muttered under her breath.

Noland's eye twitched as he finally broke the tension with a sharp laugh, though there was no humor in it. He leaned forward, his voice low and steady but brimming with barely contained anger. "You mean Cassandra—the woman you conveniently forgot was my girlfriend before you decided to swoop in and play knight in shining armor?"

The room collectively sucked in a breath. Ward's smirk faltered, but only slightly. "Now, now, Noland," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's ancient history. No need to get riled up about something that happened decades ago."

Noland's knuckles whitened as he gripped the table's edge. "Riled up? You've got some nerve, Ward. You came into my life, pretended to be my friend, and then stole her right out from under me. Don't sit there and act like it was some harmless teenage fling."

Sarah blinked, clearly entertained as her gaze darted between the two men. "This is better than TV," she murmured, taking another sip of her drink.

"Dad..." Rafe said quietly, a rare tone of discomfort in his voice, but Ward ignored him.

"She made her choice," Ward said smoothly, though there was a tightness in his smile now. "And clearly, it was the right one."

"Right one?" Noland shot back, his voice rising slightly. "Your twig ass has been living in denial for years if you think that makes it okay. You don't build something good by stepping on someone else to get there."

Mariah cleared her throat loudly, attempting to cut through the rising tension. "Well, isn't this a charming trip down memory lane," she said, her tone sharp enough to rival a blade. "But maybe we could focus on the present instead of dredging up the past."

Ward opened his mouth to respond, but Rose jumped in, her voice sweet and soothing. "Mariah's right. The past is the past. Let's not let old memories cloud the evening."

Olivine could barely keep from groaning aloud. She slouched further in her chair, muttering under her breath to Rafe, "Is it too late to fake a family emergency and leave?"

Rafe smirked but kept his voice low. "I'm starting to think I should've brought popcorn."

Meanwhile, Pope leaned toward his sister, his face twisting in a mix of disbelief and amusement. "I can't believe Dad just went there."

"Pope," Olivine hissed, glaring at him.

But Noland wasn't letting this go. He pointed a finger at Ward, his voice cutting through Rose's attempt at civility. "You think you can sit there and rewrite history? Fine. Go ahead and pat yourself on the back for being the 'better man.' But don't forget, Ward—Cassandra might've chosen you, but you're the one who had to live with her walking out later."

The jab landed. Ward's expression hardened, his smirk finally slipping. "You're out of line," he said tightly, his composure cracking just enough to reveal the irritation bubbling underneath.

"And you're out of your damn mind," Noland shot back.

Rafe, sensing the conversation spiraling further out of control, finally spoke up. "Alright, maybe we should all take a breath." He looked between the two men, his jaw tight but his tone even. "It's not exactly the best way to kick off dinner, is it?"

Olivine shot him a grateful look, and even Mariah gave him an approving nod.

Noland exhaled sharply, his jaw still clenched. "Fine," he muttered, leaning back in his chair.

Ward, for his part, forced a smile and gestured toward the cupcakes in the center of the table. "Well, I'm sure these will sweeten the mood. Shall we?"

As Rose eagerly reached for the box, Olivine couldn't help but glance at her father, whose expression remained stormy. She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Dad," she whispered, "let it go. Please."

Noland hesitated, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at his daughter. "For you," he said quietly, his voice low but sincere.

The atmosphere at the table remained tense, but Olivine hoped this truce—however temporary—would hold for the rest of the evening.

Wheezie broke the awkward silence, her voice chirping with an innocent enthusiasm that momentarily cut through the tension. "How about we take these cupcakes outside? It's a perfect evening for lemonade on the patio."

Everyone seemed eager to latch onto her suggestion. Rose, with a graceful nod, picked up her glass of wine. "That sounds lovely, darling. Let's head outside." Mariah followed suit, grabbing her own glass as she smiled at Wheezie.

The group began moving toward the patio, the cool evening air offering a reprieve from the heat that had been building indoors—not just from the summer weather but from the rising tensions between Ward and Noland.

Sarah wasted no time making her way over to Pope. She nudged him playfully, her voice low as she whispered something in his ear. Whatever she said made Pope smirk faintly, though he quickly schooled his expression when he caught Olivine's watchful eyes darting their way.

Ward and Noland lingered behind, their glares clashing like dueling swords. Ward, ever the composed host, finally broke the stalemate by gesturing toward the whiskey decanter. "Care for a glass, Noland?"

Noland's grunt of acknowledgment wasn't exactly a yes, but it was enough. Ward poured two glasses, handing one to Noland, who accepted it with a tight grip and without a word.

Meanwhile, Olivine let out a soft sigh, running her hand down her face as if to physically push away the frustration building within her.

Rafe, leaning casually against the doorframe, watched her with an amused smirk. "You're gonna give yourself wrinkles if you keep that up," he teased, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

She dropped her hand to glare at him. "I swear to everything good, if you make one more smart comment—"

Rafe interrupted, straightening slightly. "Relax, Oli. You're holding up just fine." He gestured toward the patio, where the others were already settling in. "Look, your mom's chatting it up with Rose, Sarah's got your brother distracted, and your dad hasn't decked mine yet. That's a win in my book."

Olivine rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible, you know that?"

He stepped closer, a glint of mischief in his eyes. " I've been told"

Before she could respond, he leaned in and pressed a quick peck to her cheek, then her lips, catching her off guard.

"Come on," he said his voice low and coaxing as his hand found hers. He didn't give her time to protest before he began pulling her toward the staircase.

"Rafe," Olivine hissed, glancing back toward the patio doors where everyone was settling outside.

"They'll be fine," he replied casually, his grip firm but playful as he led her up the stairs. "Besides, you owe me some alone time after sitting through all of that."

She barely had time to roll her eyes before they reached the top of the stairs. Once inside his room, Rafe kicked the door closed with his foot and turned to her, his hands immediately finding her waist.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the air seemed to thicken with tension. Rafe didn't waste a second. He pulled Olivine into him, his lips finding hers once more in a fierce kiss. The world outside his room seemed to disappear as his hands roamed her body, pulling her closer as if he couldn't get enough. She met his urgency with equal intensity, her hands slipping into his hair, tugging him closer.

His breath was hot against her skin as he kissed her deeply, his lips demanding, consuming. The frantic energy between them built up quickly, like they were both trying to erase the distance that had lingered all evening. Without breaking the kiss, Olivine took a step back, then lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him as she continued to kiss him hungrily.

Rafe's hands slid to her waist, gripping it as she adjusted herself, her hips pressing against his. She could feel the weight of his desire, the heat of him beneath her. Olivine groaned softly as their bodies came into contact, her hands continuing to pull at his hair, guiding his head deeper into the kiss. Rafe responded with a low growl, his fingers threading through her hair and tugging her head back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes.

"God, you're killing me," he groaned, his voice thick with need. His grip on her waist tightened, and his lips trailed down her neck, making her shiver with the intensity of his touch. Olivine tilted her head back, giving him better access as she arched into him, her hands roaming over his chest and down to his shoulders.

She could feel the pulse of his heartbeat against her, the rush of emotions swirling between them. The desire was raw, untamed, and the connection between them only deepened with each kiss, each touch. Olivine's breath came in short gasps as she leaned in again, her lips crashing against his, her body pressing against him as if trying to fuse into him.

Rafe's hands moved, slipping under her dress, caressing the soft skin of her thighs as she deepened the kiss. She moaned softly at the sensation, pulling him closer, needing him, wanting more. The mix of passion and tenderness was intoxicating, and neither of them seemed to want to pull away.

But just as the heat between them was reaching its peak, a flash of rationality struck Olivine. She pulled away from his lips, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her composure. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and a mixture of desire and guilt swirled within her.

"Rafe," she breathed, her voice slightly shaky. "If we continue, they'll  probably find us here about to give them grandbabies."

He looked at her, his eyes dark with desire, his lips swollen from the kiss, and for a moment, Rafe chuckled softly, his lips curling into a teasing grin as he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Well," he said, his voice low and smooth, "I'd say that's a pretty bold move for a first date, don't you think?" His eyes twinkled with mischief, though there was a hint of seriousness behind them.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "But if that's what you want, Oli, I'm all in. Just say the word."

His words hung in the air between them, full of unspoken promises and questions about what came next. He didn't want to push her, but he couldn't help the rush of desire that surged through him. He just wanted to be with her, no matter where things led.

"But," he added, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, "I think we should maybe let them think we're just here to have a good time first, yeah?"

Olivine let out a laugh, her hands playfully shoving his head back. "You're unbelievable," she said, shaking her head as she tried to suppress the grin tugging at her lips. Rafe smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and before she could react, he grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand up to his lips.

He kissed the delicate skin of her inner wrist, his lips soft yet possessive, his gaze never leaving hers. "I mean, who says having babies so early is such a bad thing?" he teased, a wicked glint in his eyes. "We'd be great at it. Just think about it... a little Rafe running around here, causing chaos. Maybe even a mini-you, too. That'd be cute."

Olivine's cheeks flushed, her heart racing at the thought. She pulled her hand from his grasp, a mixture of laughter and nervous energy bubbling up. "You're crazy," she said, but the heat in her voice told a different story. She could feel her pulse quicken as she looked at him, the playful edge between them blurring with something more serious.

Rafe leaned in again, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. "Yeah, but you love it," he whispered, his voice low and enticing.

Olivine bit her lip, the playful tension between them intensifying as she met his gaze. "Don't push your luck, Cameron."

Rafe's thumb traced small circles on her back as he nodded in understanding, his lips brushing against her forehead.

She smiled at him, a mixture of relief and desire still lingering between them. As she slid off his lap and stood up, she reached for his hand, pulling him up with her. She needed a moment to breathe, to clear her head, but deep down, she knew that what they had was far from over.

The door to his room remained closed, the world outside still a distant concern. But for now, Olivine and Rafe only had each other. And as the night stretched on, they both knew things were about to get even more complicated.

As Olivine and Rafe descended the stairs, the soft hum of voices and clinking glasses greeted them. They made their way back into the living room, where Ward immediately raised an eyebrow, looking between them.

"So, where'd you two run off to?" he asked, his voice casual but with a sharp edge, as if he was trying to piece something together.

Olivine shrugged, trying to keep her expression neutral. "Rafe was just showing me the new upgrades he added to his bike," she said smoothly, giving a small smile. "Thought I'd take a look."

Ward nodded, but Pope, standing a little off to the side, narrowed his eyes. There was something in Olivine's tone that didn't sit right with him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He watched as Rafe grabbed two cupcakes and handed one to Olivine, the ease with which they interacted sending a strange mix of irritation and concern through him. The way Rafe grinned at her, as if he'd just gotten away with something, made Pope's stomach churn. Rafe wasn't acting like the same guy he'd known for years. The carefree attitude he wore like a badge seemed all too comfortable, all too practiced when he was with Olivine.

Sarah, noticing the tension in Pope's expression, leaned in casually, sipping from her glass of lemonade. "You know," she began, her voice low but filled with a touch of sarcasm, "maybe Olivine's good for Rafe. Maybe she'll be the one to make him change, bring out the better side of him."

Pope shook his head, his jaw tightening at the thought. He glanced back at Rafe, who was laughing about something Olivine said, a carefree glint in his eyes as he leaned into her, offering her a cupcake with a playful grin. "People like Rafe never change," he muttered bitterly, his voice low enough so only Sarah could hear. "They just ruin the good things in their lives. Over and over again."

Sarah didn't say anything right away, her eyes flicking between Pope and Rafe. She seemed to be contemplating something, but in the end, she simply shrugged. "Maybe," she said, the word thick with doubt, "but people change for the right reasons."

Pope didn't respond, his eyes fixed on Olivine and Rafe, watching the subtle way their fingers brushed, the unspoken connection between them that made his stomach turn. He couldn't shake the feeling that Rafe wasn't the right person for Olivine—that he was just another distraction, another mess she didn't need in her life. And it frustrated him more than he cared to admit.

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KIKI SPEAKS ;
not edited !!

yall my back hurts like i carried 5 babies on my back-i'm OLDDDD ( barely 20 )

word count : 5.0k

ENJOY !!
xoxo kiki 💋💋