"'𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈ℯ 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒾 𝓈ℯℯ 𝒶𝓁𝓁
𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓈ℯ 𝓅ℯℴ𝓅𝓁ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓂ℯ"

"So, we've done 'The Phantom Menace,' 'Attack of the Clones,' and 'Revenge of the Sith.' What else is left?"

Ophelia turns to the driver beside to her and her eyebrows raise in disbelief at his question. "You're seriously telling me that you haven't been keeping track of what 'Star Wars' movies we have and haven't watched?"

Stiles' lips purse together, the boy falling silent as he mulls over her words. "Good point, the chart's on the back seat."

With a click of her tongue as if to say, 'There we go,' the hybrid reaches behind to grab hold of the clipboard. Her eyes briefly scan across the paper, and she loudly laughs when spotting the note scrawled at the bottom of the page. "'Force Scott to join in'? You really want to try that shit again?"

The Stilinski turns the wheel down the street that contains the house of their other friend, and he rolls his eyes in exasperation. "It's worth a shot," he counters. "The idiot's got to give in eventually."

"But you remember what happened last time, right?"

Just as the Jeep pulls to a stop in the McCall's driveway, he turns in his seat to face the blonde staring at him pointedly. "Yes... I'm persistent, okay, Ofi?"

Ophelia slowly nods at him, her lips twisted in a genuine smile. "Oh, I know."

Across the last four months, the Stone had used the summer break trying to repair her almost shattered relationships with Scott and Stiles. Majority of that had been spent apologising repeatedly and occasionally, she would resort to bribing them. That consisted of money, lots of chocolate, and once- only once, had Ophelia offered to buy Stiles a new Jeep to replace the current one. The question had never come out of her mouth again. Of course, one of her biggest regrets had been biting the Stilinski whilst in captivity with the Argents. She had thoroughly explained the natures of her vampiric side, and what would happen if she would be deprived of blood; how they would do absolutely anything to get the liquid into their bodies. It took some time, but eventually Stiles grew comfortable within her presence, no longer anticipating her to rip her teeth into his neck at any given moment.

She had also brought up the fact that she had no humanity during the first few months that they knew each other. Naturally, both boys were terrified and shell-shocked by the concept of losing one's emotions, although after managing to convince them that she had everything back under control, they accepted that without her humanity, majority of the things that had happened in her early days in Beacon Hills weren't necessarily under her complete control. Nor would they happen in her current state of mind.

One thing that surprised everyone, aside from Derek, was how similar Ophelia appeared to be when compared to her nonhumanity side. Not only had she proven to still be exceptionally violent, but she had sarcasm, an incredibly dark sense of humour, threatened to end their lives on a daily basis, and got along (to all of their extreme disappointment) very well with the recently resurrected Peter Hale. And of course, Scott and Stiles would occasionally double check that she hadn't flipped the switch when admitting how badly she wanted to murder someone in passing.

The other regret Ophelia has remains under the 'complicated' department. Killing Victoria Argent in cold blood isn't something she actually regrets. In fact, if the woman would be brought back to life and attempted to kill her now once again, Ophelia would still repeat her actions. The small part of her that feels ashamed of her actions is due to the fact that the copper-haired huntress had been Allison's mother. Even though the two teenage girls had never been close, Allison had made a good point when she had shot an arrow into her nemesis' arm.

She never did anything to Ophelia.

It also didn't help that the Stone had known what it was like to lose a parent from a very young age. Parents, plural. Thankfully, both of the living Argents had been away in France for the school break, so neither had been made aware of how Ophelia remains in the town; despite the warning Chris had given her. She only hopes that after some time, they wouldn't necessarily forgive her per say, but would be able to tolerate her presence without having a murderous rage fill their veins. So, hypocritically, she hopes they come to feel about her in the exact opposite as to how she currently does about them. Nobody ever said forgiven would be achieved within a day. In fact, nobody said anything about forgiveness at all.

"Scott, get your lazy ass over here!" Stiles yells out, leaning his head out of the wound down window to wave the boy over.

The werewolf rolls his eyes in response, ever so slightly picking up his pace to reach the Jeep and jump into the back seat. Scott purposefully only looks in the girl's direction, giving her a warm smile when she turns around. "Hey, Ofi," he greets.

Ophelia grins and reaches behind her, the two doing their handshake that they had perfected over the last few weeks. "Scotty boy."

To her surprise, she had grown to like Scott McCall a lot more than she initially thought she would. With some rationality, Ophelia realised that he alone wasn't to blame for the things that happened to her, and they all decided to have a fresh start. Maybe Scott had only initially agreed because of how terrifying she remains to him, or because a part of him genuinely wanted to have a friendship with her.

Stiles' eyes narrow as he glances between them. "What the fuck is this?" When she giggles, he starts the car and reverses onto the road, glaring in the rear-view mirror when Scott quietly laughs. "Fine, leave me out of the secret handshakes and bullshit," he grumbles under his breath.

She raises an eyebrow at his attitude and leans her elbow on her door. "You're acting as if we don't have one." She looks at him pointedly when he scowls at her before he gives in and bumps her fist a few times with the free hand that isn't occupied on the steering wheel. "All right, do you know what you're getting, wolfie?"

Scott leans between the front seats and hums at her question. "I think so. Maybe...? I don't know."

"So, that's a no then," Stiles finishes, pulling the blue vehicle to a stop at a red light. "As long as it's not something ridiculously pathetic and stupid, like, 'Allison & Scott 4ever.'"

"Oh, one-hundred percent with you on that," Ophelia chimes in, scrunching up her nose when Scott looks between them in annoyance. Clearly, his relationship status remains a sore subject. "I'm officially unfriending you if we're doing all the sappy break up shit."

"I hate you both."

"No, you love us. Me more than her, but still."

"Stiles-"

"Yep, yep. Sorry."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"Boy, it's a good thing you drew me a picture."

Ophelia chuckles as she looks between the tattoo artist who studies the piece of paper Scott had given him and said boy who sits on the leather chair with a smile on his face. "Yeah, it's gonna take forever."

Stiles nudges the blonde next to him, showing her the page inside the display folder that he found. He grimaces at the way her smile promptly drops, then slowly turns her head to look at him with a large scowl. "Yeah, okay..." He looks up to Scott with the hopes that the werewolf would find amusement in his joke. "Hey, Scott! You sure you don't want something like this?"

Upon seeing the lizard tattoo design that looks incredibly similar to the kanima, Scott raises his eyebrows at his best friend and sighs in exasperation.

"Too soon?" Stiles nods in understanding, but flinches when noticing Ophelia standing right behind his shoulder. "Jesus Chri-" He blows out a breath of air, ignoring her howls of laughter, and continues to flip through the folder full of detailed tattoo ideas. "I don't know, man. Are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?"

Ophelia plops down into one of the waiting chairs and rolls her eyes. "Stiles, I'd hope you know that tattoos are permanent, yes?"

"I'm not changing my mind," Scott tells them with a small smile.

"Okay, but why two bands?"

He shrugs at Stiles' question, his dark eyes momentarily flicking to the tattoo artist who sits down on the stool beside him to prepare the equipment. "I just like it."

Ophelia grins at his vague answer and nods at Stiles as if it was obvious. "Yeah, he just likes it. I say that's a great reason to get a tattoo."

"But don't you think that your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning? You know, like Fi's?"

The girl purses her lips together as she looks back to Scott, then motions a finger back to her spine that is decorated with the Mikaelson family quote, 'Always and Forever.' "That's a good point, too."

"Getting a tattoo means something," Scott defends.

Stiles raises his eyebrows. "I don't think that-"

"He's right," the artist interrupts. "Tattooing goes back thousands of years." Ophelia snickers at the image that pops into her head of her family inventing the concept of the tattoo and ignores how the two boys share a look of confusion. She's yet to mention that her adopted family are the oldest vampires to exist. "The Tahitian word 'tatua' means to 'leave a mark.' Like a rite of passage," the man finishes explaining to the three.

Scott nods, and Ophelia can tell that he is trying to suppress the smug smirk from appearing on his lips. "Yeah, you see? He gets it."

With his arms folded across his chest, Stiles stares at Scott in irritation. "He's covered in tattoos, Scott- literally."

The artist swivels on his chair to face the teenage boy, the machine in his hands ready to be put to work. "Okay, you ready?"

Ophelia raises an eyebrow as she clears her throat, bringing the attention back over to her. "If you're too much of a wuss, I can always just knock you out."

"No," Scott quickly denies in alarm, slightly shaken at how fast and how willing she had been to offer to hurt him. He takes a deep breath, before nodding.

"You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"

When Scott shakes his head, Ophelia points in Stiles' direction and said boy nods at her observation. "I tend to get a little squeamish, though, so..." As soon as the needle is placed onto Scott's arm, she speeds over to Stiles and catches him right before he can hit the ground, already having fainted from the sight of watching the process begin.

She stares at the boy in her arms in curiosity, and her eyes sparkle with mischief as an idea comes to mind. Dragging him back over to the chair she had been sitting on, Scott loudly laughs a few seconds later; the sight of Ophelia painting Stiles' lips with the red lipstick she is currently wearing providing a distraction from the pain of the tattoo. Humming in satisfaction, she looks up to find the two males watching her in amusement. "Have to take advantage of these kinds of situations, lads."

Over the next half hour, Stiles chats her ear off about the different possible reasons why Scott had chosen this particular design. And throughout that entire half an hour, Ophelia had to restrain herself from knocking him out herself, then illustrating something obscene on his arm. Much to his confusion, she cackled with laughter at the thought for a good five minutes until she realised that if it was to happen, it would be the end of their recently repaired friendship.

Permanently. Ironically, just like a tattoo.

She also spent the time predicting how long it would take for Scott's fresh tattoo to disappear, just as how her first one did. Oh, the joys of supernatural healing; something she had purposefully left out amongst their conversations over the last few months leading up to this very moment.

"I will never get used to that," Stiles murmurs to himself as the three walk out of the shop, still in awe of how his friend had compelled the tattoo artist to charge Scott with nothing. "Like, you used mind control... You mind controlled him," he rambles.

A snicker slips out of her lips the second she glances at him, finding it beyond hysterical that he still hasn't noticed the dark makeup painted on his lips. To keep the ruse up even longer, she shrugs innocently when he turns to her with scepticism. "Nothing. And we've had the talk, Stiles. I can't teach it to you." Taking her usual place in the front passenger seat of the blue Jeep, Ophelia turns around to check on the unusually quiet Scott. "You okay?"

He lifts his head from staring at his arm and his eyebrows furrow together. "Kinda burns..."

She nods at his comment and leans into the backseat to peer closer at his arm, even though the bandage is obstructing the view of the black bands. "Yeah, that happens," she reassures.

She is snapped out of her internal thought process from the driver beside her releasing a loud shriek. Neither her or Scott can tell if it's shock and alarm, or infuriation at what he had just discovered. "Who the fuck put lipstick on me?"

Definitely anger.

Ophelia shakes her head when his spins to her, and shrugs once more in a clueless manner. "Wasn't me," she deadpans. Her eyes widen when the car swerves to the side of the road due to the driver paying attention to himself in the rear-view mirror. "Road, Stilinski! The bloody road!"

The boy blows a breath of relief when as he gains control back over the vehicle, yet his previous frustration returns almost instantaneously. "Well, it can't have been Scott, 'cause he was getting his skin stabbed about one-hundred-thousand times with a fucking needle!" Stiles snaps impatiently, vigorously rubbing at the red makeup on his lips, only to unpleasantly discover that it isn't smudging at all.

"Yeah, but I don't think it's supposed to feel like this," Scott counters with a wince. Upon noticing that her friend isn't finding Stiles' situation funny anymore, Ophelia turns back around to look at him.

Stiles grimaces in disgust as his eyes flick back to Scott in the mirror. "Oh, God..."

A groan leaves Scott's parted lips as his face contorts up in pain, his hand clutching onto the bandaged tattoo. "No, it's definitely not supposed to feel like this!"

Ophelia bites her lip in amusement, not feeling the concern that she probably should for the boy. Mainly because she knows exactly what is happening. "Chin up, it'll pass in a minute."

Blinded by the pain, therefore not hearing her comment, Scott frantically tries to take the bandage off his arm. "I gotta take this thing off!"

Stiles' eyes widen in alarm as he briefly looks over his shoulder. "No, no, no, no, Scott!" He grimaces again at the thought of the sight of the wound on his arm exposed without the bandage. "Scott, please stop!" The boy eventually screeches the Jeep to a halt when the bandage is discarded, and Stiles quickly turns around to check, his eyes only widening at what he finds. "Woah! Woah!"

The two black bands encircling Scott's arm remain, as well as the flushed, agitated skin. However, over a few seconds both the irritation and the supposedly permanent ink have disappeared. "Oh, no! What? No, no, come on!" Scott protests in alarm. He looks up in bewilderment to his two friends already watching him, and his lips pull down into a disappointed frown. "It healed," he states simply.

Stiles exhales in relief when the McCall looks up to them, his expression still one of shock. "Oh, thank God. I hated it." When the werewolf gives him a look filled with exasperation, he pulls a face apologetically. "Sorry..."

Upon the two pairs of eyes falling onto her, Ophelia finally lets out the laughter she had been holding in. Taking deep breaths, she places a hand on her chest, still giggling at the sight of Scott's narrowed eyes. "Okay, I-"

"You knew it wasn't going to work," Scott slowly says, his brain connecting the dots together. Shortly after his realisation, Stiles' eyes widen as his head snaps back around to the hybrid in surprise.

Her grin only broadens, her laughter increasing in volume at the combination of disbelief and offence that appears on Scott's face. After a minute of the boys just staring at her and waiting for her to stop wheezing, Ophelia shakes her head and brushes the tears from underneath her eyes. "I had to watch you go through some pain. Physical and emotional. It's the least you deserve."

Even though both teenagers had built up a decent friendship, one of them still harbours some fairly violent wishes to fall upon the other. Ophelia might have moved past the fact that Scott was the reason she had been kidnapped by the Argents, but that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy watching him suffer through some of his own harmless torture. The tattoo was never going to kill him. That meant that the last few minutes had made the last few months all worth the supporting and lying.

Stiles' eyes squint, although he starts the engine back up and shrugs in agreement. "There is that, but my favourite part is how it's no longer there."

"Wait, why didn't it work? Wait, no, how come you have one? Is there like some witchy spell thing that makes it stay?"

Ophelia folds her arms across her jacket and sighs. "I mean, yes. But that's not how I got mine." Scott stares at her impatiently, his hand rubbing up and down his now bare upper arm. "All in due time, bark-a-lot."

"So, what's going on with you and Allison?" Stiles successfully changes the topic, his foot pressing onto the brake pedal as they approach a red light. "Do you know if she's gonna be back at school tomorrow?"

"Don't say that word," Ophelia complaints, moving her hands to cover her eyes at the mention of how she would be returning back to Beacon Hills High School.

"Which one? Allison, or scho-" Stiles swiftly closes his mouth when he glances over to her, and dryly swallows at how her eyes are glowing their signature red hue. "Got it."

Scott sighs in defeat as he finally realises that his beloved tattoo is actually gone and leans forward so he is between the two front seats once again. "Nah, we agreed to give each other the summer; no texts, no calls."

Ophelia rolls her eyes slightly at the hopefulness she finds hidden in his tone of voice. "So, how'd you know she won't be back at... you know." A low growl rumbles in the back of her throat at the sharp jab sent to her ribs, and her eyes narrow at how Stiles 'subtly' gestures out her window. Following his frantic gaze, she bites onto her tongue to stop herself from bursting out in laughter at who is coincidentally in the car next to them.

Scott still hasn't noticed their distraction. "After everything that happened, I'm not sure she's coming back at all..."

A single eyebrow raises in amusement, Ophelia's green eyes locked onto her best friend and Allison who have yet to take any notice of them. "Are you, like, one-hundred percent sure of that?"

"Yeah," Stiles adds. "'Cause, I think she is." When Scott looks to him, he purses his lips together and inclines his head. "I'd say pretty definite, you know."

"Yeah, I'd even say it'd be impossible for her to not be here right now, like, at this very second," Ophelia slowly says, trying to let him figure it out on his own. She rolls her eyes in frustration when Scott stares at her blankly and points out her window. "Car, Scott!" Both Stiles and Ophelia share a look, equally as exasperated at how the boy goes on to staring at his ex-girlfriend longingly, completely forgetting about his two friends on either side of him. "Ugh, it's like a rom-com," she mutters, faking a gag of disgust at how he is making literal puppy eyes at Allison.

Ophelia snickers when Scott abruptly pulls back and lowers his body on the back seats as if it would erase Allison's memory that she had just seen him. "Oh, my God! Oh-"

"Now, this, has made my day." When she catches Lydia's gaze, both girls instantly smile at the sight of each other, the Stone raising a hand in greeting. "Hey, Lily!"

Lydia Martin had quickly become Ophelia's best friend. The strawberry blonde hadn't given up on their relationship, even though she saw the hybrid temporarily kill her ex-boyfriend before her very own eyes. On one occasion, sobbing through her tears as the two shared a tub of ice cream over the breakup, Lydia had ranted about how someone else would have done it if not for Ophelia, and that someone else would have most likely been Derek. Which would have meant that Jackson's second death would've been painful. So, in a sick and twisted way, she had been glad it had been done by Ophelia.

However, what had shocked Ophelia the most is that even though her newfound friend was aware of her supernatural status, and the many, many bodies that she held in her name, Lydia didn't sprint away in the other direction at first sight of her fangs. She only made Ophelia promise that she would never be the target of a killing spree. Which of course, the blonde had chuckled and agreed without any hesitation.

"Can we just drive, please, Stiles?" Scott yells from behind, desperate to get himself out of the awkward situation.

Stiles' eyebrows knit together, and he gestures to the traffic light above them. "Scott, it's a red light," he points out obviously.

Ophelia grins and nods, finding her stomach aching from how much she had laughed across the last few hours. "Yeah, it's a red light," she repeats teasingly. She giggles as she can hear Allison's hysterical pleads to Lydia from their car, just as desperate as Scott to get away.

Although, a part of the huntress is completely and utterly terrified at the sight of Ophelia Stone still in Beacon Hills. But it's not like she would ever admit that to anyone, even herself.

"I think we should talk to her," Stiles suggests.

An innocent smile replaces her devious smirk from a few seconds ago. "Fully agree."

"No. No, no, Ofi, come on-"

She quickly winds down her window before Scott can lean forward and stop her (not that he would dare try) and waves to try and get the female's attention. "Lyds, hey!" Ophelia's bottom lip juts out in disappointment at the sound of tires squealing on the tarmac, the blue Toyota speeding away through the red light.

Stiles tilts his head to the side and leans back into his seat. "No, probably didn't see us," he concludes. The second the light switches to green, he quickly presses on the gas and continues behind the two girls ahead of them.

"What are you doing?" Scott questions incredulously.

Ophelia narrows her eyes as she spares him a glance. "Last time I checked, we're driving in a shitty car. What do you think we're doing?"

"We're right behind them," he exclaims with wide eyes.

"Okay, well, do you see any turns?" Stiles asks.

"Nope."

The Stilinski waves his hand to Ophelia, nodding in agreement to emphasise his point. "Exactly."

"I don't want it to look like we're following them!"

The girl purses her lips together and after a few seconds, she nods in realisation. "Ah, I get it. You don't want to come across as the possessive, stalker ex-boyfriend type."

Scott ignores her, instead focusing on the driver and getting him to do something. "Well, what do you want me to do?" Stiles queries him.

"I don't know," Scott responds in frustration. "Anything."

Ophelia has to laugh once more when she is jerked forward against her seatbelt, the Jeep screeching to a stop in the middle of the road. "This is fantastic!" But her amusement quickly leaves her expression as she notices the car up ahead slow to a stop.

All three teenagers in the Jeep slowly turn to look at each other in confusion.

Panic settles into her as soon as Ophelia hears piercing screams of terror come from the two females, and she doesn't waste a minute to yank off her seatbelt and speed to get over to her best friend as quickly as possible. Helping a frazzled Lydia out of her side of the car, Ophelia gently holds onto the girl's arms to get her attention. "Hey, are you okay? Lydia, look at me," she softly calls out.

Their eyes eventually meet, Lydia's hands trembling from the shock. "It came out of nowhere," she quickly states.

"Lily, are you hurt?" Ophelia tries again, her eyes scanning over the girl's body. She quickly picks up on the heavy scent of blood, but it has that particular stench to it. It's not human.

She doesn't acknowledge Scott rush over to Allison, and Stiles stop beside herself and Lydia. "Woah, are you hurt?"

"I'm okay," Allison replies to Scott.

"Well, I'm not okay!" Lydia exclaims, clutching onto Ophelia's hand tightly. "I am totally freaking the absolute fuck out! How the hell does it just run into us?"

Ophelia's eyes narrow in curiosity as she leaves a frantic Lydia in the hands of Stiles, and follows Scott as he walks cautiously over to the front of the blue car. "It's dead," she calls out to him.

The werewolf nods as his eyes flick over to her briefly while they inspect the deer carcass lain across the hood of the vehicle, its head surrounded in a pile of smashed glass from the windscreen. Scott quickly double takes as he notices the dark veins appear under the hybrid's eyes and gently nudges her side with his elbow; something he had learnt helps to ground her in moments where she is overcome by the bloodlust. "Ofi, focus."

She quickly blinks and snaps out of her daze, giving him a small smile out of gratitude. "Right. What the hell is a deer doing running headfirst into a fucking car?"

"I saw its eyes right before it hit us," Lydia points out, running a hand through her hair. "And it was like it... it was like it was crazy."

Scott slowly places his hand on the animal's bloodied back and closes his eyes as he concentrates on picking up the various emotions radiating off the animal. "No, it was scared," he observes quietly.

Ophelia raises her eyebrows and scoffs. "Are you kidding me? That thing wasn't scared." When Scott turns to her in confusion, she grimaces at the unpleasant smell of the deer's chemo-signals. "It was bloody terrified."

𝘏𝘪 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴!!

𝘞𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬! *𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴*
𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘚𝘖 𝘌𝘟𝘊𝘐𝘛𝘌𝘋 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 3. 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢.
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰, 𝘴𝘰, 𝘚𝘖 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥.

𝘓𝘺𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴. 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤, 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘈𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴!
𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹