A/N: Wow, thanks everyone for favoriting and/or following this fanfiction. I hope you guys like the second chapter as much as you liked the first! (I apologize for any errors in conventions; it was the first day of a new semester, and I'm dog tired).

Disclaimer: Code Geass is not my property.


Chapter Two: Praying for Patience


"Oh, do you think he'll be alright?"

Nunnally blinked into a pair of particularly wide, anxious, and very innocent, ruby eyes before gently smiling in reassurance and replying, "Of course. You said so yourself; Xingke is the strongest and most loyal person you've ever met."

When the young Empress merely looked down into her lap dejectedly, her friend added softly, "It'll be okay, Lihua. Xingke would never allow himself to be the cause of your sorrow. He's kind in that respect."

"… You really think so? But he won't even rest, arguing that my safety is priority over his physical-"

The Britannian wrapped her hands around the Chinese's own, which were trembling from hear. Indigo melded into vermillion, and Nunnally soothed her distress with, "He will never leave you. He promised you, didn't he? And as a soldier and a man of integrity and honor, Li Xingke will never leave you. In any way."

When her frown didn't disappear, she sweetly teased, "After all, doesn't he love
-"

There was a knock on the door, which effectively cut their conversation short. Both girls looked to see who had interrupted them as the double doors swung open. The young monarchs smiled, seeing how their visitors were their respective Knights and guardians.

"Hello."

Nunnally greeted them in a rather plain, pedestrian manner. She wasn't very fond of the way decorum and court formalities forced her to act as superior above those around her. She knew that, realistically, they were all far more adept and had much more prowess than her in virtually all and every area of skill. So, whenever the opportunity presented itself, she pounced for it and addressed people as informally as she pleased.

'Well,' she thought bitterly, 'You're better at one thing than everyone else. You're the best at being the cause of pain and conflict.'

The chestnut-haired woman bit her lower lip, struggling to fight the tears that had suddenly sprung into her wide eyes, as her mind dwelled on the memories of her beloved elder brother. Every morning, when she woke in the bedroom that her brother had once lived in, walked in, slept in, breathed in, regret always flooded her. Religiously.

Why had he felt the need to make such a sacrifice for her? And how could she have been so selfish, and not have at least suspected what he had been doing? For her? All for her… For her, her sweet brother, her kind brother, her loving brother, had offered both his name and life to grant her wish. And the sad, pathetic thing was… It wasn't even her true wish.

All Nunnally desired was to be with her dearest sibling, together, the both of them happy. That was all she had wanted, and now, it was all she would ever wish for.

"… Nunnally?"

Lihua's concern, now focusing from her protector to her companion, snapped the young girl out of her depressing reverie. Smiling weakly, she answered, "It seems that it's time for you to leave. Look; Xingke is waiting for you."

And he certainly was.

The tall, imposing man, with his long raven hair and commanding umber eyes, stood in the doorway. He did look a little more gaunt, a little more fatigued, than the last time Nunnally had seen him, but to his credit, he looked well for someone who was fighting an illness such as the one he was.

"Your Majesty," nodded the military man. Her smile strengthened, and she mixed in a generous amount of amiability, as she in turn greeted him with a light, "Good afternoon, General Li."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Empress Tianzi tilted her head to the side as she attempted to read the true thoughts of her friend. But Nunnally had been sitting on the throne for two years now, and she had honed her skills of veiling her innermost emotions. Her lips curled up into a teasing smile as she asked, "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

Lihua giggled nervously, and she jokingly pouted, "I'm okay. I'm just a little tired. Being empress isn't as fun as everyone makes it seem."

"Oh, I know what you mean."

The two laughed together before the girl with snow-white tresses rose from her chair and energetically embraced her friend.

"Bye, Nunnally. Thank you for listening to me. It must have been boring for you. But thank you all the same."

"I'm happy to offer you a shoulder and an ear whenever you need, Lihua."

"Thank you."

"You should stop thanking me, or Xingke will scold you for being so humble and modest again."

She tittered guiltily behind her hand before whispering, "I think that, even if I were to knock you out of your chair, I would probably be lectured all the same."

"Empress Tianzi," reminded her guard.

The Commander's charge gave one last hug before straightening up with a bright smile and singing, "I'm coming, Xingke. Bye, Nunnally."

"Go home safely. Lihua," waved the young queen. As soon as the entrance to the parlor were closed behind the pair, who was already in the midst of an admonishment, she sighed heavily before frailly querying, "Will you take your mask off?"

When her advisor made no effort to move, she pleaded with a tired, "Please?"

Slowly, a gloved hand reached up for the disguise, and for a split second, the hope that the face lying underneath had amethyst irises and warm smile blazed in her. But reality slapped the expectation away, and she was soon faced with, not an amaranth, but an emerald gaze.

"Hello Suzaku."

"Nunnally," said he stiffly.

"… Do you hate having to show me your real face? I'm sorry."

He sighed and merely shook his head, his brunette locks covering his clouded eyes. Silence settled inside of the opulent room, until the younger of the two listlessly said, "It's been almost two years since I assumed the title of ruler of Britannia."

"… You're doing well, Nunnally. We're all proud of you. I'm proud of you, Le…"

He stopped, accidentally broaching the forbidden subject. Time seemed to freeze, before she quietly questioned, "Big brother would be proud of me. Is that what you were going to say, Suzaku?"

The Knight cursed his carelessness as he saw his best friend's sister wilt. With a pained expression he knew all too well from seeing it all the time in the reflection of mirrors, Nunnally tearfully choked out, "He would have been proud of me… Right, Suzaku? Right?"

His harsh emerald scrutiny softened as he replied, "Of course. Lelouch would have been so proud of you, Nunnally… He'd have been walking around, his chest puffed out and a smug smirk on his face."

She wiped her tears away, granting him a watery giggle and relief.

"That's silly. Big brother would never walk or smile like that. He's too kind."

Zero could only look on sadly as he studied the monarch sitting in front of him. She was so unbelievably strong; it amazed him. Nunnally had done so well for the past two years. And yet… During those two years, he had watched her struggle with her guilt and grief. He had watched her fight against her inability to forgive herself, endured the maelstrom that politics were always throwing her into the center of…

She needed a break.

And she so deserved one.

Walking closer, Suzaku felt the muscles in his face protesting as they rearranged themselves into a sincere smile, something he hadn't done for much too long. Kneeling in front of her, he took her hand carefully and looked up into her tired indigo eyes before saying, "I have an idea, Nunnally."

. . .

"Do you love C2?"

Lelouch stared at her, trying to crack Anya's mask. But it was to no avail. The girl had worn a disguise for as long as he had, and was just as disciplined at hiding her true emotions. When he calmed his startlement, he sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair before slowly replying, "Why do you ask?"

"You said that you liked her," she pointed out.

An ephemeral bark of incredulous laughter flew out from his thin lips before countering with, "Just because I say I like someone, Anya, it doesn't mean I love them."

"It might. Since it's C2."

He shook his head; the Emperor refused to even entertain the possibility that he could be in love with the woman. Yes, he sought out her company amongst others, yes, he found her amusing (and at times endearing, but even the heavens knew that he would never willingly admit to that), and yes, he considered her to be his equal and companion. But love? Never. The Witch and the Warlock, their relationship was clear and simple. Black and white. Absolutely no greys. They didn't have room for any grey.

Liar.

The singular word immediately ceased all traffic in his head, and only grew louder and more demanding for attention with the stopping of all hasty thoughts and excuses.

Liar.

He was not lying; all he had thought, all he had said so far had been the truth and the truth only. He hadn't embellished it for his, or anyone else's benefit; he wasn't lying to anyone. He had stopped deceiving anyone as soon as his agenda allowed him to, he was, in no way, telling falsehoods to anyone.

Liar.

He wasn't ly-

"Anya! Master Lelouch!"

The spotlight shone on the interrupter, and Lelouch silently thanked Jeremiah, who had saved him, as unintentional and accidental as it was. He would have to…

Why did he look so tense? What could have possibly happened in the five minutes he had left the main house? Had C2 done something agai-

"Master Lelouch, an unprecedented and unforeseen emergency situation has arose."

"What is it?"

"Empress Nunnally is coming to Helia the day after the next."

Amethyst eyes widened with shock and the raven-haired man inhaled sharply. As if he hadn't heard the first time (which he most definitely had), Jeremiah urgently repeated with force, "Empress Nunnally is coming here the day after the next."

. . .

Lelouch sat in his chair, stunned into silence.

Nunnally was coming,

Of course, she had no idea that he was still alive and well. She didn't know that he resided at Helia, the Gottwalds' plantation. Neither did Suzaku for the matter. But they were both coming here, to Helia. They would be here, in this very kitchen. The day after the next.

It was like a nightmare come true.

"Master Lelouch will have to temporarily live elsewhere," muttered Jeremiah. He took up his fretful pacing again, while Anya quietly chewed on a carrot and Sayoko sat at her place at the table, patiently waiting for her husband to calm down.

"Sayoko, where could he go? It has to be far away enough so that the possibility of Zero or her Majesty discovering the truth is slim, but still a distance short enough that it doesn't take-"

"Perhaps Dion?" suggested she.

"Dion?"

"I believe it's an approximate 27 miles from here. On horse, it should take about a day, but taking into account Antonius' haste in traveling, the trip should be haled in duration."

The head of the household paused his constant walking back and forth and thought for a moment.

"… Yes. Yes, that's it. Master Lelouch will travel to Dion tomorrow morning Antonius, and will stay there during the period when her Majesty, Empress Nunnally, and Zero rest here, at Helia."

The centre of their collective attention finally spoke up.

"Dion hasn't been habited since its last owner, which was nearly a decade ago. Nor has it ever been visited since then. The farmhouse is probably derelict by now."

There was a beat of silence, before Jeremiah erupted.

"Then I shall immediately go and prepare Dion so that-"

"… No."

The loyal acolyte frowned in surprised and insisted, "But my lord, you deserve-"

Lelouch shook his head slowly. "It's good. The dilapidation of Dion will serve me well. It will occupy my time there. And besides… It's time we've heightened our rate of productivity. I will leave for Dion. During the six days I'm to be there, I will prepare the orchard so that it can be utilized."

He rose from his chair, firm with resolve.

"After lunch, we'll proceed to hide away any and all traces of my existence here and pack for the journey. Which will begin this evening, at twilight."

The moment he announced the alteration to the plans, protest washed over the raven-haired man. The cyborg, his frown carving itself deeper into his face, said, "Twilight? Master Lelouch, that is highly unadvisable. Traveling during the nighttime, especially a lone rider, is incredibly dangerous. Please reconsider and make your departure tomorrow morning."

Sayoko nodded in agreement, but it was Anya who voiced the question they were all wondering.

"Why twilight?"

"We've lived together for two years. During that time, we've all formed habits, some of which involve me. Even if it's only for a day, it's a good, precautionary measure to practice living without me."

"But-" Jeremiah didn't get far, as his foster daughter cut him off with her own declaration (although hers was much calmer and quieter).

"Lelouch is right."

Jeremiah looked to his spouse for support, but instead received an apologetic, "I also agree with Master Lelouch. It's for the better," she added hurriedly upon seeing her husband's brow twitch out of frustration. "We wouldn't want her Majesty, or Zero to find out the secret we've guarded so well for the past few years.

Uneasiness swathed the bright kitchen until the farmer finally gave in with a dejected sigh. The former maid breathed a sigh of relief, when she heard him plead, 'But at least carry a firearm at all times on your person, Master Lelouch. For your safety."

"That's a given," replied the younger adult. Unbuttoning his shirt's collar to cool himself from the merciless summer heat, he announced, "I'll be skipping lunch today. I'm sorry, Sayoko. I know how much effort you put into providing meals for us."

"Not at all."

"I'll be in the pasture after I change," said the immortal to no one in particular. He heard Jeremiah reply with his customary, "yes, my lord" as he ascended the polished staircase of the residency. His hand delicately slid up the banister, trailing after him. When he arrived at the top, he faced the long hallway of bedrooms. To the right of him was a shorter corridor, which lead to Jeremiah and Sayoko's suite, but in front was the passageway that housed the doors to his, Anya's, and C2's rooms.

Even with two years, Lelouch grudgingly admitted that he still felt a bit queer about not sleeping in the same bed as the witch. It had grown to be a habit (a terrible one, he had decided), and at night, during the times he found himself lying awake (even after a long, difficult day of work), he felt as if something were missing. For a horribly lengthy amount of time, he had tried to figure out what was bothering him so. One night had turned into three, which had quickly evolved into a week, only to escalate into a month, until Lelouch could honestly claim that he had a year and a half's worth of nights full of nothing but speculation and mystification.

And then it dawned on him.

Her warmth.

He felt out of place without C2 besides him. The entire bed and blanket was at the mercy of, not her, but his, will and pleasure. He no longer had to share the quilt, no longer had to share the mattress's space, no longer had her warmth and body besides his. And it felt strange, as if one of his limbs had been severed from him. As if something had been unjustly stolen from him.

Damn it.

What had the witch done to him?

With great effort, he tore his curious eyes away from her bedroom, which he just now realized he had never seen the inside of (he shuddered as he tried to imagine exactly what kind of garbage dump her room was currently buried under), and walked into his own.

As soon as the raven-haired man closed his door behind him with a sharp click, another door opened. Golden irises blinked before flickering to the window at the end of the hallway. They cringed slightly from the dazzling sunlight streaming in, before they readjusted to the light. Gazing out onto the bright emerald sea of grass below, the shadows of an idea forming appeared. Withdrawing, the door closed again so that the witch could begin her own preparations.

. . .

"My lord."

"Jeremiah."

Lelouch continued to harness his ebony gelding to the small, wooden cart, occasionally rubbing its nose or smoothing Antonius' silky mane, as his visitor marched towards his beloved master.

"All of the equipment necessary for improving the current state of Dion is already located within the vicinities of the grove. If memory serves, everything should still be intact and able to be put to use."

"I see. I assume there won't be any feed for Antonius?"

"No, my lord."

"A shame. It seems that he'll miss his oats and alfalfa," chuckled the horse's keeper. The steed tossed his head haughtily before pawing the ground, as if expressing his impatience with his owner. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the rest of the Gottwald family nearing them, probably intending to bid him farewell and good fortune.

"Do you have all that you need, Master Lelouch? Perhaps I should pack more preserves. Or more fruit. Oh, what of-"

"There's no need to fret, Sayoko. I have enough provisions to last me three weeks."

"Yes, Master Lelouch." She flushed slightly, embarrassed by her outburst of anxiety. Anya, taking a break from chewing on an apple, said, "Goodbye, Lelouch. Don't die. Or worse… Don't get caught."

"I won't, as long as you stay out of the trees," he replied while climbing up onto the cart. He scanned the innumerable rows of range trees for any sign of the woman with hair the color of juniper, but found nothing. Frowning, he inquired, "Have you seen C2? I want to share a word with her before I leave."

"I'm right here, boy," answered a familiar voice. He turned and saw her setting down a large carpet bag in between the sake of potatoes and fertilizer.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

She shoved him over before settling down in the seat she had just drove him out of. Staring at her, he dumbly said, "You can't come with me, C2."

"And why is that, boy?"

She crossed her arms and legs, her back straight and her gaze stubborn, her entire body showing him her challenge to his opposition.

"Nunnally and Suzaku both know you live here. She'll look for you."

"Why would she look for me? She'd rather spend her time with Anya, not a witch like me."

"She asked you to stay at the imperial palace with her," he reminded her. "She's going to search for you."

"It's a shame then, that I won't be here for Nunnally's visit. Besides, you don't have a choice. Sayoko and Jeremiah support my decision. They said that since your face is too recognizable and infamous, you need an escort and ward. So here I am. Now let's go before it gets any darker."

Amethyst irises flickered past the emerald-haired woman to scrutinize the family of three, who shrunk away from the cold, judgmental glare. Refocusing his attention to the problem at hand, he tried a different angle.

"What will Jeremiah say when they ask about your whereabou-"

"I left for a two-day pizza convention 3 days' travel from here."

A stare-down ensued, until the warlock broke eye contact and flicked the reins, muttering, "Somehow, that sounds like a plausible and believable excuse."

She only smirked smugly and replied, "You can't win against me, boy."

Lelouch merely pursed his lips as they turned onto the empty road outside of the plantation. It looked like the following six days would be incredibly trying and difficult… He only prayed he had the strength to weather through them and still return home in one, sane piece.

. . .

The immortal relaxed his sore muscles as Antonius snorted besides him before dipping his head to drink the clear, silvery water of the calm lake spilled out in front of them. His master glanced back at the cart, which was resting at the side of the road, and could just barely make out the immortal, who was asleep on the wagon.

Questions dutifully trooped into his head, and he continued to stare at her. Why had she followed him? What was the incentive and reward for her to leave the comforts of Helia, only to go to Dion, an abandoned grove? Why had she come with him?

As he stared, something pulled him towards her, and soon enough, he found himself gravitating to it until he was standing by her, his eyes grazing over her. Her emerald hair gently glimmered, dully reflecting the moon's bright light. Her dress, a combination of red, green, black, and white, pooled around her petite body. Her chest rose and fell steadily, as she slept, completely oblivious to her observer.

The witch shifted to her side and her breath caught momentarily as cool wood came in contact with her bare skin. As her breathing resumed its normal, consistent, Lelouch realized that she was chilly, if not cold from the cool summer night. Suddenly feeling gracious towards her, he reached for his shawl, which had been deserted on the seat she had previously occupied before climbing to the back to sleep, and carefully covered her with navy cashmere.

She sighed and he couldn't help but smile; it had been a long time since he had last watched C2 sleep, and he had forgotten how endearing she looked. For some reason, he always found it therapeutic, contemplating her and her only like some guardian angel (he laughed at the idea; he was probably one of the last people who deserved to be called angel).

After some time had passed, in which there was no sound or movement save for the lazily drifting fireflies and the chirping orchestra of crickets, the Britannian hesitantly reached out and carefully tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear. His expression soft, his hand made to brush her cheek, when she suddenly sneezed. Starting, his eyes darted towards her face guiltily, as if he had been on the brink of committing a crime. Relieved that she hadn't woken up and caught him doing… Doing whatever it was that he had been doing, tucking her hair behind her ear, whatever it was, he sighed and decided that it was time to take up the reins again.

Turning away from the woman, he whistled for Antonius, who obediently trotted up the small hill towards him. Harnessing the horse in, Lelouch climbed up onto the wagon and they began to make their way down the dirt road again.

As they wordlessly travelled down the path, Lelouch occasionally glanced back at the sleeping woman, or, if not looking back, allowed for his thoughts to wander to her. Earlier, he had mulled over why she had joined him for this particular journey, but now… Now, he decided that he was grateful for her company, regardless of why she had chosen to leave with him.

'Thank you, C2.'

And, despite frowning at the start, a smile threatened to form on his lips as the Witch and the Warlock continued on to safety, one sleeping and the other driving, but both content.

. . .

"This is Dion."

He could clearly hear the unmistakable chime of dissatisfaction in his companion's voice and had to admit that he was also unimpressed (to the point of displeasure) by the estate.

It was, of course, much smaller than Helia, the main residency, but this was just…

The orchard, full of orange trees, who looked to be on the brink of death, was small enough that it didn't even look to be much trouble for even Lelouch to care for on his own. But the filed wasn't the source of the distress. No. It wasn't the pathetic grove, it was the house.

The white paint was peeling, the windows had been crazily boarded up, as if a blind man had been handed a bag of nails, a hammer, and the task of blocking all possible openings to the depressing cottage; moss and ivy crept up the sides of the house, which looked as if it would be blown away by the summer breeze any moment. It would be an understatement to say that the Witch and the Warlock were disgruntled and shocked.

They stared for some time, standing in between the grave for orange trees and the frail cottage, before C2 spoke up.

"Is it safe to go in there?"

"… I'm not sure," he uttered, meaning every single one of the words in his reply.

The pair stared some more, wondering whether to step inside or not.

"… Well, I'm not standing out here all day. I'm stiff from sleeping somewhere so hard all night. I'm going inside."

"Wait, C-"

She tore away the planks covering the door, whose coating of burgundy paint was so faded, it was nearly pink, and brazenly strode inside. Lelouch followed quickly, only to be surprised to find that the interior wasn't as bad as the initial appearance of the building.

Of course, there was dust covering any and every available surface, and all of the furniture seemed old and worn, not to mention how, fortunately, amazingly, the electricity was still functioning (as the emerald-haired woman had flicked the light switch, not wishing to trip on anything and make a fool of herself in front of her companion).

"And they say not to judge a book by its cover…" she murmured to herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Britannian enter their new home, his face a mess of conflicting emotions. She internally laughed at him; Mr. Perfect was having a difficult time accepting the fact that he had to live in such a dirty, dusty, unorganized and refined place such as this. The first thing he was probably going to do was clean the house. Well, he could clean all he pleased, and he could fuss at her to help all he wanted, but she was content to just lie in bed all day everyday and just watch him exert unnecessary-

"C2!"

Lelouch, who had been looking around the kitchen they were apparently standing in, noticed that the ceiling looked weak. Particularly above the area where the witch was standing. She herself was sneering, probably pleased with their set-up, which seemed like it had been specifically designed to give him a hard time. That was when the plaster began to crack and his brows began to furrow. Was the ceiling really going to-

He closed the distance separating himself and the woman in one, impossibly long stride. Shielding her, the sound of plaster tearing and the very foundations of the house moaning filled his ears, but Lelouch was deaf to them all. Instead, he focused on the witch, whose eyes had widened from surprise. His hands flew up to cover her mouth, nose, and eyes, and the two stood as still as statues until the last of the white dust snowed down on them.

Once everything was still and calm again, Lelouch let out a cough and a scratchy, "That's going to present to be a problem later."

"… Well, you enjoy cleaning, so I don't' see what the problem is," she said, her reply muffled by his palm. She shifted his hand so that she could look up at him, the look in her eyes unreadable. The raven-haired man (who really looked like he had grey hair now), was about to sigh, when he inhaled dust and only coughed. C2 placed her cool hand over his own mouth and nose so as to protect him in the same fashion he was protecting her. She could feel his warm breath tickle her, and the pair stood frozen, each mystified by their actions.

"… We should get out before any more of the ceiling falls on us," he eventually said, his voice rather gruff. She replied, "I don't think there's any more ceiling left to fall on us."

They peered up at the gaping hole above them, and Lelouch groaned. It was a bedroom. One of the bedrooms were now completely and utterly inaccessible and unusable. Which meant…

"How many rooms are left?

C2's warmth stole away from him as she made her way up the aged, squeaking staircase.

"Be careful," he reminded her.

"I have eyes and ears, Lelouch."

But all the same, she heeded his warning and stepped carefully. When her companion arrived at the second-floor, she grabbed his wrist, and he looked at her in surprise.

"If I'm falling through the floor, I'm not going alone," she simply explained. Exasperated by her rationalization, he frowned, but didn't tear his hand away. Rather, he slid his hand up and laced their fingers together. Choosing to ignore her raised eyebrow, he muttered, "It's dark in here. We'll have to take down the wooden boards."

"Scared of the dark, boy?" she teased. His brow twitched in irritation, but he curbed his sharp tongue. Who knew what she would do in retaliation if he upset her? She was like a nuclear bomb, primed to detonate with the slightest disturbance. As she tugged him down the hallway, he prayed that he would find the patience from somewhere within him to deal with her peacefully. Knowing himself, and knowing the woman, that probably wasn't going to happen.

"So this is the room we'll be using…"

Lelouch peered over the immortal's powdered crown and through the doorway she was standing in.

There was a large bed in the middle of the surprisingly enormous room, along with a bedside table, which carried a lamp and a pitcher sitting in a bowl, and an ancient wardrobe carved from cherry wood. Besides it stood a full-length mirror and a cushioned rocking chair. As C2 walked to the bed, the warlock said, "We?"

"Well, if you want to use the other room, then feel free to. But I'm not, and you know I won't, so I suggest we skip the ceremonial argument. In turn, I'll let you sleep here with me." She patted the faded quilt, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Coughing and waving her hand, she added, "As soon as you clean the mattress."

Resigning himself to his fate, he watched her stroll towards a door and waltz inside. She explored the depths of the room hidden behind, and then soon heard the sound of a running water.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to shower. So I need you to fetch my bag."

"Shower?"

He could only watch as she untied the black corset she layered over her dress and allowed for it fall to the floor by her feet. She stripped herself of the first two layers of her skirt before asking, "Are you going to stand there like a pervert, or are you going to do as I told you to?"

Flushing indignantly, he turned on his heel and strode out of the bedroom. Slamming the door to shut out her humiliating laughter, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Oh, it certainly was going to be a difficult six days indeed.


A/N: And so it begins… Reviews are very much welcomed! Thank you very much.