Annabelle's area is nicely lit up compared to mine, even though we both live in the city, which is kind of peculiar. During the day, the place looked like any other, but the night gives it a special charm, a feeling of home.

"Here you go," I smile, park the car right in front of the front door, but I don't kill the engine.

Annabelle smiles as well, "Here I go." She is leaning back against the chair and lazily looks at me, "I must say that this was actually kind of fun."

"It was, wasn't it?" I chuckle, finding it surprising myself. It went pretty smooth, considering everything.

"Now back to my nightmare," she groans and I suspect it's about her ex and how she misses him at night, but then she adds, "If I don't burn up one of these nights, I'll be lucky."

"Burn up?" I ask and lift a brow in curiosity. I don't recall anyone ever describing their heartbreak as burning in the middle of the night.

She nods, while she's busy turning back and fetching her purse, which she did not need at all. "My AC got screwed up. I don't know what's wrong but the technicians are busy installing new ones all over Boston."

"Yeah, the beginning of the summer has been pretty hot given Boston's climate." I look at the time in my car and while thinking about how much time do I have before I completely shut down, I ask: "Which model of AC do you have?"

"I don't know. It was there when, erhm, he and I bought the apartment." She shrugs, "I guess it's not older than six or seven years. I guess it was to be expected, I don't know how to mantain these things and, well, Mason hated air cooling in general."

The more she tells me about the guy, the more I can't see how she ended up with him.

"Mind if I take a look at it?"

"At what? My AC?"

"Well, yeah. Maybe I could fix it temporarily until technican can properly do it." I see it in her face she doesn't believe I could help her in any way with that. Maybe it's because she knows I'm into solar energy, which doesn't really connect with fixing the broken ACs. "I helped Danny and Patty with their own AC too and nobody died, if you're worried about that."

She shrugs and sighs, realising I'm probably her only option here. If I fix it, she might sleep soundlessly, and if I can't, there will be no worse scenario than a steamy night. "If you're that confident, sure then."

Now, I kill the engine, get myself and Devon out of the car. The look he gives me when I pull him from his seat is not a particularly happy one. It just reminds me of all those people who claim babies are evil and psychopaths. They've probably encountered a stare like Devon's.

Annabelle offers to carry him. I believe Devon would very much appreciate being in Annabelle's arms, more than in mine, but I can see how she can barely stand in those heels and that she's tired herself. I tell her that it's fine and that she's been carrying him round and about for the entire day.

Her apartment is in the first floor. The building itself isn't particularly tall, I'd say there's only four or five floors in total. Her door still has the Easter ornament of a white fluffy bunny holding three colourful eggs between its paws.

Annabelle fishes out her keys and starts unlocking the door. "If you fix it, I'll owe you one."

I smirk, "I don't want to make any promises. I'll try to help, but nothing is for sure."

"At least you can tinker. I'm a dancer." She pushes the door open and lets me in.

When she turns on the lights, her apartment shines at me in pastel yellow shade. It's relatively small, but for one, two or three people this is more than enough. I take off my shoes and maje sure to look around. She has a few art pieces on the walls, usually abstract and only in the shades of grey. She leads me to the living room where a comfy couch of creamy colour looks engulfing with so many decorative pillows piled on it. I suppose that wasn't always the case, at least not while her ex was still here.

Annabelle smiles, "Any comments about my abode?"

I look at her when I'm done grovelling around in an obvious way. She's in the process of taking off her shoes. "No, it's just a lot like you. Homey, comfy and stuff."

"Aha," she murmurs and takes off both of her shoes.

It's adorable when she sinks down to her size once her heels aren't lifting her up anymore. I tilt my head to the side, "Now, that was just cute."

Annabelle pouts my way, but behind the pout there's a small amused smile. "I'm sorry, what? All I can hear are the skyscraper noises coming from you!"

That's a new one.

I laugh loudly and so intensly I instinctively close my eyes. Her laughter joins mine, and I look at her when I nearly run out of breath. "I haven't heard that one before."

She gives herself some credit by shrugging playfully. I definitely wouldn't say she's one year younger than me. "Okay, uhm, I just need to jump to the bathroom and then I'll show you my AC. That cool?"

"Yeah, of course."

Annabelle rushes to the bathroom, which gives me an ideal opportunity to snoop around a bit. I put Devon in his basket down on the couch and pack him round and round with pillows. I think he can't get happier than that, but then I notice a bunch of pictures that are turned downward.

I don't need to be involved with Annabelle's life to know who is probably on those pictures, it must be Mason. The other ones that are standing up are pictures of her and Caitlin as little girls, a picture of her parents, a family portrait, and one of the photographs I've seen of her as a ballerina. Even as a kid Caitlin looked uptight.

Then I lift up the picture she doesn't want to see, but is also not ready to throw away just yet. Heartbreak can be a bitch.

It's a picture when they were on a vacation, Hawaii if I know what a garland of flower looks like. She is absolutely shining in that picture, smiling widely, while hugging the guy from behind. Now, the guy... The guy just looks like he doesn't deserve her. He's smiling just as well and I guess I can see the appeal to him that must've driven Annabelle crazy while she was gradually falling in love with him. I guess I can also say he is somehow attractive. With the semi-long light brown hair and hazel eyes he looks like the boy next door, at least that's what his smile suggests in this picture.

I take a closer look and find a reason why this picture got framed and is still standing on Annabelle's shelf of displayed photographs. She already has an engagement ring on her finger, and there's an open ringbox on the table. It must've been their engagement night and I don't think I've seen Annabelle smiling that widely and freely before.

I hear the flush of the toilet, so I set the photograph back down. I don't want her to catch me peering at one of her happy memories with him and coincidentally get her in a bad mood.

Happy memories hurt the most.

"Alrighty, you had fun here?" She smiles when she tiptoes her way back to the living room.

"It's definitely peculiar to see Caitlin so... Caitliny," I chuckle and point at a photograph that was the first I looked at.

"Oh, yeah," she chuckles, "we were never particularly close. She is now in my life because I have no one else."

That sounds so... depressing.

"Let me show you my curse," she groans tiredly and leads me to her bedroom, where everything is neatly put together. Her bed is of middle size, enough for two people to clutch onto each other or to relax each on their own side. Though, we all know how women understand 'their own side'.

Annabelle accussingly points up at the AC, "That's my hell."

I chuckle and take a look from afar, "What exactly is the problem with it?"

"It sucks at cooling down this place, that's what's the problem."

My lips twitch a bit in a smile, but when I'm getting in my focus mood it's hard me to react any better. "For starters, a chair and a screwdriver will be of need."

"Yeah, gonna bring that to you right away. You left Devon in the living room?"

"Yeah, he's in his basket, snoring all of this away."

She smiles a bit, "Okay, good. I just had to ask otherwise I'd worry about him."

"Understandable."

She leaves the room again and leaves me in it alone. The wallpaper of her bedroom adds a specific charm to the room. With a sublime pattern of dots, this place looks like one of the cool rooms you see in TV series and always wish to have one like that. There's a bunch of pillows on the bed as well and a tissue box conveniently placed on a nightstand. I'm starting to feel really bad for her.

"Here you go," she hands me a screwdriver and drags a chair to the room.

I place it under the AC and look at it distrustfully, "If the chair breaks and I die, I'll come back to haunt you."

"Yeah, you do seem like the kind of guy who'd do that."

I smirk and try to look threatening, but all in vain. Instead, I step on the chair, which survives my weight, though there are some shaky moments I don't trust completely.

I use the screwdriver to take off the cover of the AC, which I hand down to her. I don't want to throw it somewhere only to break it, or throw it on bed and break Annabelle's sanity.

I give the parts of AC a closer look, at least to those parts I would know how to fix, when a question crosses my mind that only Annabelle would answer it truthfully and according to her own experience. "Can I ask you something?"

From the deep down below where she's standing and looking up, she replies, "You're the one fixing my AC. You can do whatever you want as long as you'll make it work."

I chuckle lightly, while I tinker away with a screwdriver, "You and Caitlin, you said you two weren't close."

"Myeah, we weren't. During our entire childhood we were more of... roommates that weren't particularly close."

"And then when the thing happened with you, you called Caitlin and she came to help you?"

"I didn't call her. She found out along with my parents. Since then, she's been obsessed with checking up on me and getting me back into the dating world."

I nod slowly, trying to split my focus between what she has to say and what AC's problem is. "Does it help? Having your sister calling and visiting you?"

"I'd never think that, but it kind of is. It's just nice knowing your sibling is out there to catch you when you fall. It's a bit awkward because we don't get along as well as you and your brother per see, but I think it's beneficial, yeah. Why?"

I sigh, while I struggle to check if it's just a bit of maintenance problem or not. "Before we left the party, Patty told me it'd be nice if I called May and talked to her."

"Because of divorce?"

"Yeah. And I'm not sure about that. I mean, I traumatised her and... I still don't particularly like her and I think the feeling is mutual."

"So, you're not sure if contacting her might do any good?"

"Basically, yes. I think you just need to clean your AC. Both filters don't look that good."

She crosses her arms and takes the filters when I hand them to her. "You tortured her, yeah, but you were also a good brother when she needed that. I think she can distinguish between you being a good and a bad person."

"So, is that a yes?"

Annabelle chuckles when she's on her way out to clean the filters I handed her. "Yes. I think she'll appreciate it. But don't go all hard on her. Caitlin did that and I blocked her number for a few days."

"Trust me, even I don't want to talk to her too much. You need help with that?"

"Would be appreciated, yes."

Even though he apartment is small, I get lost while trying to find my way to the bathroom. Though, it's a great opportunity to take another look around. In the kitchen she has all sorts of dried spices hung in forms of little bouquets. I find it strange, but kind of aesthetically pleasing.

But in the end, I get to the bathroom, where she's kneeling next to the bathtub and cleaning the filters. In that one moment before I get next to her, I just appreciate the sight I get at her thighs. The perks of women wearing short skirts.

"Are you sure cleaning these will do the job?"

I get on the floor next to her and take the filter that Annabelle left in the bathtub for me. "I don't know if it will do the job, but they need cleaning anyway."

We both get to gentle scrubbing of the AC filters under the running water. I don't know when someone last cleaned them. As she's said, her sleazy ex didn't care much about that kind of stuff. And apparently, he didn't care much about her either.

"Are you gonna call her?" She asks me, even though our conversation about distant siblings we don't particularly like was finished.

"I intend to, if it will help her. But I don't really know what to say to her. I have a couple of ideas, but I have a feeling she wouldn't really appreciate them much."

She starts running out of breath due to all the scrubbing, even though I told her to do it gently. "Just ask her how is she and if she'd like to grab a cup of coffee sometime."

"She'd get suspicious."

"Do you have something to hide?"

"No?"

"Then just tell her you'd like to see her. Be honest."

"If I tell her that, she'll hang up on me. We've barely spoken for years now and suddenly I want to grab a drink with her? She won't buy it."

"I think she will. She's going through a rough time with her husband, maybe she won't even question your agenda as much as you think she will."

I gently remove the dirt from the filter as I nod absent mindedly, "I suppose you're right about that."

"And I think she's used to you being there for her, even if it's by teaching her kids how to annoy her or by calling her every now and then just to spite her." She sighs and from her look it's obvious she has drifted away in her mind a little bit, "I just hate when Caitlin treats me with pity. If she behaves as she always does, that helps. The moment she turns into a soft little pillow, I know she feels sorry for me. Sometimes that's fine, but... It's easier for me to deal with my problems when people around me are normal and don't try too hard. They're considerate, of course, but not fake."

Well, I wouldn't know. After my break-up with Patty I didn't want anyone to even try and talk to me. I closed myself from everyone completely and if somebody came just as close as mentioning her all in good faith, I would either ignore them or literally push them away. It resulted in quite a few fights, but that was better than talking about her and what happened.

"So, just a bit of sympathy?" If I understand this right, I should show May sympathy and a shoulder to cry on, but behaving completely normal all the while. Being supportive and 'normal' to May doesn't exactly coincide perfectly.

She nods next to me and I notice her braid is slowly getting loose. It actually looks prettier like this, more natural. "It worked for me. You know her best, so you're the only one who can really figure out what will help her the most, but pity is never a good idea. Nobody wants pity. But I don't think you have any problems with that."

I snort, "I don't, but I don't think I'm the best person to come to when in need of some sympathy."

"Who knows, maybe she doesn't need it. Maybe she just needs to be mad at you for an hour instead of worrying about her husband. In any case, you should call her."

"I guess I got my answer," I chuckle and consequently make her laugh just as well.

"You know," she leans back for a moment, away from the bathtub and dirty filters, "if you worry so much what you should do, it shows you're a very caring brother. You don't want to make anything worse."

I look back at her, while keeping my hands in water, "I think that's called common decency?"

"Sure, but you said it yourself you two got enstranged. You flipped at the news of divorce and now you worry about what to do. I don't think just any brother who doesn't particularly like his sister would do such a thing."

Isn't that what brothers are supposed to do? If siblings can't stick together through thick and thin, who will? Spouses? They are actually the ones who screw you over the most. They take your everything and humiliate you in the process.

"Well, I think this is clean enough." I take the filter away from the running water and quickly dry it by shaking it lightly. "It obviously needs to dry fully, so where do you want me to leave it?"

She thinks a little and looks towards the bathroom's door, "We can leave them in the balcony to dry. How long do you think it will take them?"

"To dry?" I ask while I'm gently patting it with a towel ocer the surface. I don't want to spread water over her entire apartment. "Depends on humidity and windiness, but-"

"Reminds me not to ask engineer anything technical ever again." She interrupts me with a tone of annoyance, even though she is smiling lightly. "How did you decide to be an engineer, though? Because it sounds cool?"

I snort at her last question, because... it's kind of true. "That played a part, yeah. But I was more of a tinkering kid, always happy to help carry tools for my grandpa in the garage or help Dad fix things around the house."

"You must've been an excellent student in school then. Kids that know their way around math and physics and chemistry have it easier in school."

"Yah, that's what you think." I groan as I remember all other useless subjects, "Like ethics and philosophy. What the hell was that?"

She giggles loudly and shrugs shyly, "Aw, I liked those. I liked everything that didn't include prescribed formulas and numbers. I can just see you as one of those kids that had all formulas for SATs memorised."

"Wow, okay, I do think playing around with numbers is fun, but I'm not a genius. The real fun began in college, though. Especially with the introduction to efficiency."

"Efficiency?"

"Basically my job."

She takes the filter out and pats it a bit with a towel just as well, "That's right about enough for me. I think if you tried to explain it a bit more, I'd get dizzy. Just at the thought of numbers and, God forbid, letters, I shudder. But should I find it concerning you hated ethics?"

I didn't even realise I said it in such a way, but luckily, Annabelle doesn't hang onto every word and she turned this into a joke. Gotta say, it even makes me chuckle nervously a little when I think back on how it sounded. "Well, should you?"

Annabelle squints her eyes at me suspiciously and tilts her head slightly to the right and then to the left, "What do they say? All the psychopaths and spawns of Satan are very charming and charismatic."

I widen my eyes and blink a couple of times at the filter in my hands, "Oh, wow. I've been called many things but never a psychopath."

"I didn't mean you are a psychopath. I was referring to the spawn of Satan."

I give her a pouty smile and squint my eyes a little bit, "Oh, we're getting cheeky here, huh!"

"You're not denying it," she says by averting her gaze down to the towel and the filter she's been patting lightly.

"And you're not particularly worried about it."

She giggles a bit, then shifts away from the jokes and to a serious matter, "Do you think this is dry enough?"

"Probably the first time a woman asked me that."

Annabelle slaps my shoulder scoldingly, but not really judgementally.

I smile lightly and put away the smirk of accomplishment for making her a bit uncomfortable, "I think it is. You've been drying it for a while, anyway."

"Will you try to put it back in?" The very moment she says it, she gives me a disapproving look, convincing me not to say anything to that.

I lift a brow in a playful way, trying really hard to hold myself back on this one. I bet there will be other opportunities and I don't want to overuse a joke in the first two minutes of making it. "Sure, I can try."

We go to her bedroom where her AC is waiting for the new filters.

I get up on the chair and Annabelle passes me one filter at the time. Once I try to insert the filter back in, she has this to say: "Do you think it will fit?"

I look back down at her and the moment I do, she realises what she can expect of me to say. "Oh, Annabelle... It's like you're begging for dirty jokes."

"I'm begging for cool air."

"We took the filters out, why wouldn't they fit back in? It's not like this magically shrunk in size."

"I don't know, okay? Maybe it's not dry enough and inflated a bit. Look, I'm not the engineer here, I am allowed to ask such questions." She squeaks back, slightly embarrassed by her previous question.

"Oh, yes, as an energy engineer all I do all day long is washing filters."

She points her finger at me with her eyes squinted, "I don't like your sarcasm."

It's either sarcasm or dirty jokes one can expect from me. I don't think I have any other types of humour. I can be either a perv or a total sarcastic bastard.

Once I believe the filters are put in correctly, I ask of her to turn the AC on. Once she does, the room starts to cool down, but there's an awfully a lot of noise produced as well.

Annabelle looks at this distrustfully, but I reassure her that it's safe to be in the same room as the AC. "There's probably another fault, but it should be fine like this for a couple of days. At least until guys from the company come to properly fix it."

I climb down from the chair and both Annabelle and I are peering up at the machine. "It is better than nothing. At least I'll get some good night sleep in comparison to previous nights."

"Glad to be of help." I smile once we look at each other. Jeez, with more of her hair coming loose from her braid, she looks even prettier. "You, uh, really stunned everyone at the party, though."

"Did I?" She sighs a bit and hisses, "I think I went in too much, like I was trying to prove something."

"All you did was put on a summer dress and braid your hair. How is that going in too much?"

She lifts both brows and widens her eyes, like I don't really understand everything behind the scenes. "Sure, but if you take that away and wipe off my make up, I am a completely different person."

I roll my eyes and sarcastically hiss back, "Yeah, you're like Jekyll and Mr Hyde, ain't ya?" She doesn't respond back, at least not with words. She just sighs, like I'm completely hopeless. "Look, I think you look pretty either way. And so what if you put on a summer dress and high heels? I know I appreciated it."

"Right." She chuckles with a sad connotation. "Because you wanted to push that in Patty's face. 'Oh look, she is pretty and with me, and you're pregnant and fat.'"

I scowl at her imitation of me. My lips disappear completely and my mouth just ends up looking like a straight line. I look like a fucking emoji. "I thought I've made it clear enough that I find you beautiful."

"We women read between the lines."

Right... the nonexistent lines... Gotcha!

"You appreciated my outfit and found me beautiful because you wanted to spite her."

I blink a couple of times. Is she completely deaf to my compliments? I freaking told her she's gorgeous and she was in a random T-shirt at the time! "Where is this coming from?"

"It's what you told me. It's also why I dressed up like this."

"No, I told you if there was a woman with me, she'd lose her mind. I left out the part of the woman wearing heels and showing off her legs."

Annabelle is casually looking at me up until the mentioning of her legs. Don't really know why. If she dressed up like this, she could've expected of me to eye her from top to bottom a couple of times and stopping in certain places.

"Are you going to say you don't think I look prettier in this than when I wear my casual clothes? That it's basically the same?"

I take a pause and look at her facial features, looking for any clues of extensive make up. She is so bullshitting on this. But then my eyes stop on the braid and I carefully take a hold if it. I don't want it to get completely undone. "This definitely is a nice touch."

She giggles lightly, "This is? Not the short dress?"

"Dress is more like a plus. A big plus. But yeah, you should wear a braid more often. It really suits you."

Annabelle lifts up a brow, "Are you saying that because braids are excellent for pulling hair during sex?"

I close my eyes at this, slightly disturbed. Not everything I say is meant in a sexual way! "And then I'm the pervy and dirty one."

"Aha! You're not denying it! Exposed!"

"For the record, I have done the hair pulling plenty of times, and I gotta say I prefer when women pull on my hair. So, my answer is no, in an innocent way you are very lovely with a braid."

Annabelle pouts and looks very displeased with my answer. I guess she's gotten used to me being dirty whenever the chance to be that. "Well, thank you, then. I'd rather be like you, though."

Yeah, I can imagine.

"On what grounds?"

She laughs and covers her eyes with her palms, "Of course, you are in love with your ego." She clears her throat then, and tugs on the sleeve of my shirt, "I have to wear heels, braid my hair and wear this or that kind of dress. All you do is put on some pants and a shirt. Even then you get more attention than me."

"Oh, trust me, everyone was looking at me because of you today at the party."

"I think we were total rockstars today." She nods proudly, smiling widely.

"We were definitely the most interesting combination. In the next couple of days, I'll probably receive who knows how many messages from my relatives, all wondering about you." I smile, not finding that in any way disturbing. It's not like they're a huge part of my life. "I should probably get going. You have your AC, so I hope you'll sleep soundly tonight."

She momentarily looks up, like she's completely forgotten about the AC and our little adventure with the filters. "Oh, yeah, I don't know how to thank you about that. You probably saved my life."

"Eh, you could've done it completely by yourself. I just knew what to look for." I smile softly. "You don't owe me anything."

"Well, thank you anyway."

"No problem." I give her another smile and head to the living room where Devon is sleeping in his basket. He's made a few gurgling sounds in his sleep, but I noticed he does that as a side product of him dreaming. "Oh, one more question," I turn back to her and she's standing right behind me.

"Yeah?"

"My Dad said you women don't just dress up this nice when you're headed out. You do, right? You like to feel pretty."

Annabelle beams at me a little. She probably expected another question about May and siblings. She looks down, shrugging a couple of times, "We do make an effort sometimes, but not always. I mean, I dressed up like this because I thought you'd like it."

Does she mean it in a way that I think she does?

"You wanted to anger Patty, right?" She quickly adds and shrugs again, as if that will throw me off somehow.

"Ah-huh..." I nod slowly, "Is that so?"

She shrugs in a more obvious manner than before, "I knew you'd look very attractive, I couldn't afford to look like a troll next to you, could I?"

I want to chuckle at the troll remark because even if she had worn a potato sack, she'd be a beauty. But I smirk at another thing she mentions. "You knew I'd look attractive?"

"If you don't have to explain yourself when you say I'm beautiful, I don't have to explain myself if I say you're attractive. It's not like you don't know that already."

"It's always nice to hear it." I grin and slowly stroll closer to her. "Did you mean that because I dress nicely?"

She tilts her head to the side, "Not really. I mean... You just use clothes to compliment your body features. Like, uhm, your shoulders and stuff." She bites her lip a couple of times as she's busy eying my shoulders. Then she brings her eyes back to my face, but quickly looks away, "That's not even the main... attractive part. You're just a charming and charismatic guy. And a good person. Girls maybe like bad boys, but women... women prefer good guys that can be playful. That's what makes you attractive."

"Annabelle, trust me, I don't fall in the nice guys category. I'm an asshole, remember?"

"Trust me, I know that. But people you care about are just lucky to have you. You maybe have a weird way of showing that sometimes, but... They know you care and that you'll be there for them. You're a nice guy."

I smile small-like and look down, "You really have a good opinion about me."

"I didn't at first, because the first Nathan I met was a fuckboy. And even though, I screamed at you and wanted to throw you under the bus, you made sure I made it home safely. That thing kept me awake at night because it just wouldn't coincide with a heartless dick personna." At the end, she smiles softly and pats my shoulder, "You're a nice guy and you don't even know about it."

I smile in response, actually surprised she has said all that. She didn't have to, I needed no reassurance about what kind of a person I am. But damn, do our conversations take weird turns. Weird turns in both topic and mood. For once, the change of mood isn't my fault.

"See?" She asks softly, "You could've said anything pervy or dirty, but you didn't."

"Let's just say I'm not in a particularly dirty or pervy mood right now." I smile, her hand still warming my shoulder slowly, though it feels like everything in the room gets warmer for a couple of degrees.

"Is that even possible with you?" Annabelle lifts up a brow and inspects my face, until she finds a bump in my shirt on my shoulder and decides to smooth it out.

"It is, shockingly. Rarely, though."

"And what's the special occassion? Are you just tired or have you taken some weird drug?"

I tilt my head a little bit, first to one side, then to the other, "I think it's because I want to live up to the opinion of an adorable lady in front of me."

She peers up at me, her smile ever present. Why is she so lovely no matter what she does? She could've winked at me, looked at me innocently and embarassed, but I'd still find it beautiful on her. Even a smile with a gap between her teeth could be overlooked. Right, maybe that not, but it does illustrate my point very nicely.

I just want to prove that I really can be a nice guy, and I just want to kiss her really gently, like I did before we finished it all on the couch - the night when I saw those pictures of her.

So... That's what I do.

A/N: Technically, still a weekend! It's been crazy, guys, which is why I'm posting this now and haven't done it before. My birthday is nearing, so my friends and I celebrated on Friday (and I couldn't write). My friend felt really sick due to the consumed amount of juice vodka, which is why another friend and I stayed awake the entire night to keep an eye on her, so I've spent the rest of the Saturday sleeping (and I couldn't write). And now, I'm here, on Sunday, and so is the update. Hope you like this one, I really liked writing it! :3

Fun fact: this update has over 5.8k words (I need some self-control)

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~ Blackie