I'm back!
It took me a bit longer than I expected. My apologies. Real life is a bitch!
WARNING: There's something you should know about this new work of mine. I'm not being very nice to the characters in this story, which means there will be depression, blood, death, violence and a lot of dead unicorns. So, if you don't want to see Cleon far from sugar-candy-land, you probably shouldn't read this.
Resident Evil and the characters I am happily destroying here belong to Capcom.
I hope you have fun!
When Claire laid her little niece into his arms, it once again reinforced his feeling of having been completely lost and wrong all those years. What he wanted, he had directly in front of him. Claire was his little piece of normal life, his home. And even though they hadn't been together for more than half a year, he wanted her with him. Probably forever. And he wanted her to know it.
"Are you asking me if I want to marry you?"
Yeah. That was probably what had come to his mind again when he held Chris' and Jill's little daughter in his arms and noticed how much she resembled her aunt. A family of his own with Claire? Leon couldn't hold back a wide smile.
"I am."
- I -
The No
"How much?"
She wasn't a fool and hated to be taken for one. She had always known the facts, as clear as they could be, printed out onto a piece of paper with the distinctive BSAA Lab stamp on it. Infected. T-Phobos Positive, the report said. While the T-Virus could be declared eradicated in a matter of minutes thanks to several vaccines and antidotes, the T-Phobos had turned out to be a very tricky and resistant strain of the good old T-virus. It hadn't taken the TerraSave and BSAA scientists very long to put it into a dormant state. But a cure? As long as there was no real pandemic threat, nobody would allow any lab to invest more time and money on finding a vaccine. And it would never become a pandemic when the strain was not contagious and only three infected remained on the planet. It was harmless. Not even Chris' efforts had been able to advance the process. Nevertheless, having proven to be strong enough to survive the virus, Claire was allowed a relatively normal life.
But even so, she had always thought she hadn't been granted the right to have a family. Although she had been told that the T-Phobos virus wouldn't be passed to her children, she never felt confident enough to see a real chance to become a mother, having been exposed to viral infections way too often to just freely plan a peaceful motherhood. Over time, that certainty had burrowed into her mind, infecting and mutating the dream of her own future. And Claire had come to terms with this. Even after Leon had shown a softer, more emotional side when their little niece Summer was around, she had accepted that she wouldn't give him a child of their own blood.
It was all Rebecca's fault. Rebecca had given her hope and had encouraged her to try; had told her that the chance to give such a weak, dormant strain to her child was all but impossible; had made her see a false version of reality; had even run tests to make sure. But, of course, nothing would ever be that easy for Claire, and the previous, almost impossible probabilities of complications had suddenly grown into the likelihood that she'd never survive a pregnancy. Caused by hormonal fluctuations due to pregnancy, the virus had mutated into a more resistant, contagious strain, and the disappointment was too heavy to bear. "Sixty-two point two?"
"Point seven." Rebecca took her hand. "I'm so sorry Claire."
Sixty-two point seven was the probability she had given the virus to the child inside her, making it mutate in stressful, scary situations. Bottom line, her child could turn into a monster inside her womb or on its way out, meaning that she herself would probably get eaten or simply ripped apart by her own child from the inside. Not the prettiest way to die. Claire swallowed as she laid her hand onto her two-month-pregnant belly under her white blouse. A sixty-two point seven percent probability of becoming her child's first meal was a very high one. But sixty-two point seven percent meant still a thirty-seven point three percent of surviving. Surviving along with Leon's child in her arms. Her eyes narrowed as she cocked her head aside.
"I can't stop this right now."
"You have to, Claire." Rebecca jumped off her seat. "As a scientist fighting bioterrorism and your friend I can't let you take such a high risk." A doubtful gaze crawled up her face as she sat down again. "I'm not gonna recommend this, but the correct thing for you to do would be to abort." She cleared her throat hesitantly. "You should also use protection during sexual intercourse from now on. Kissing is okay, though."
The redhead shook her head in disbelief as she blew out a breath. This was getting worse with every second. She looked down at her hands, turning the small gold ring around her finger. It felt like a huge burden she had put onto Leon's shoulders, and something she'd never wanted him to go through.
"I think I can handle the idea." She bit her lip. "But it's difficult to accept when I'm not the only one this virus is keeping from having children, or a normal marriage with sex."
"There are other ways you can have kids," Rebecca whispered as they stood up and walked to the door. "You can still adopt, Claire. I'm sure Leon's position in the government will give you some advantages."
The redhead could just nod in approval, tired of having the same conversation over and over again with every single one of her friends. Adopting was a difficult administrative process with long waiting lists and critical acceptance conditions. Savior or not, Claire had been told that she'd either give up travelling to threatened zones for a living or that she could say goodbye the possibility of ever being given a child. After that statement, they hadn't even considered it necessary to answer the question about Leon's occupation.
"Maybe in a future."
Chris scowled at O'Brian. He'd imagined the meeting with his old director more exciting. But every time Clive showed up, he brought some crazy ideas with him that eventually caused the whole B.S.A.A. North America Branch to drown in chaos, reorganizing equipments, budgets and positions. Even though they had brought results more than once, this time, his idea was just plain stupid.
"This is just plain stupid." Chris crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And I'm not gonna listen to any more."
Clive shook his head. "Chris," he said trying to give his long-time friend a comforting smile. "Think about it. There are former employees of Umbrella working there. We can't just let them run freely creating weapons."
The issue was the new Umbrella Corporation. After the destruction of the pharmaceutical company that had caused so many deaths, some genius among the bigwigs had come up with the idea of creating a new company to build anti-B.O.W. weapons. Whose idea it had been to call it the Umbrella Corporation and change their corporate colours to blue to give it a completely new image, they weren't sure. However, ever since the company's rebirth, it had become one of the focuses of both laughs and mistrust of the whole B.S.A.A..
Chris's scowled darkened, "But the government is already watching over them."
Clive threw a sceptical glance at him, "You mean people like Derek Simmons?"
Sure. As if Clive's decisions had never been a complete failure. Wasn't he better off at home writing his dumb little novels? Chris blew out an impatient breath.
"Why me?"
"Chris, look." Clive cleared his throat. "You're not getting any younger. It's more peaceful, probably not as dangerous as the field."
"You think I can't handle my job any more, isn't it?" Chris grimaced. While other founding members had taken a step back from more active services and positions, he had always refused to give up his role as captain of the S.O.U., gaining destructive criticism from his superiors and coworkers due to the multiple losses among his lines.
"That is not what I mean." O'Brian leaned back in his seat. "And I'm not forcing you. I just want you to think about it. It would be a nice alternative for your current life, and give you more time for yourself, your family." He licked his lips and folded his hand upon the table. "How is Jill?"
"Home," he hissed.
"I didn't ask about her whereabouts." Clive raised an eyebrow as Chris's look snapped to him-intense.
"She's-" He blew out a shaky breath. "She's not taking motherhood very well."
That was minimizing the awful truth. Although the first weeks after the very complicated pregnancy and labor had been peaceful, Jill had soon shown symptoms of a postpartum depression. Not even the blessing of a family could be free of troubles and issues. And though he still loved her and would have done anything to help her, he couldn't stop blaming and even hating her for being so selfish. And he knew she was hating him too.
"I would like to pay her a visit someday if that's possible."
Chris nodded shyly. His visit would surely cheer her up. Or at least make her see things from a different angle.
"Take her out if you can."
The oppressing sound of her heels reverbed through the hollow space as she walked down the hospital hall. What a disappointing morning it had been. Barely worth the exciting expectation the pregnancy had first made her feel. Claire put on her sunglasses as her steps guided her towards the entrance. She'd call Leon later. First she'd have to deal with the urge to smoke a cigarette and to punch a wall. Chewing gum would help with the first one.
As soon as she exited the hospital to head to the parking lot, a strong hand held her back. Joy spread over her face as she saw the face of the man behind her.
"Barry! What -" She was surprised to find him in the hospital. "Is everything okay?" Her friend laughed.
"Yes, more or less." He answered. "I'm here with Natalia. She's been dragging a bad cough for the last two months. Now I finally managed to get her here." He shook his head and smirked. "Looks like a pneumonia. It's just a routine procedure, but they want to keep her here for a few days, so I'm staying with her."
She cocked her head and smiled at him. He tried to shrug it off with a little smile, but Claire knew he was deeply concerned about the girl. Barry was probably the best example to show how one could love someone else's child as if it was their own. She herself had actually always seen him as a father figure, and she felt the need to spend some time with him.
"You know I'm free right now," she said as she took her sunglasses back off, and slid them into her handbag. "I'll stay a while with you." She laid her arm around Barry and followed him back into the building.
"That is very nice Claire. I was just catching a coffee. Do you want anything?" Claire shook her head.
"No, thanks." She smiled widely. "So, how are Kathy and Polly?"
"Great." Barry pushed some coins through the slot of the coffee vending machine. "Polly is preparing for her year abroad. Kathy is going crazy, of course. Our daughters are growing up." He laughed tinged with a slight sadness around his eyes. "And we are getting old."
Claire smirked. "You? Never! Barry and Kathy Burton are our immortal rocks." She laughed, leaning against the wall next to the machine, with her arms crossed over her chest. "Please say hi to them both for me."
"I will," Barry said after the beep sound told him his coffee was ready. He bent down to get his steaming cup. "You please say hi to Moira. I haven't seen her in two months."
"We're very busy lately." Claire laid her hand onto her belly. "And I'm suggesting her for my position once this one comes out."
"You would really do that?" His eyes opened in grateful surprise. "That would be a huge opportunity for Moira."
"I don't see anyone else better prepared than her." She shrugged amusedly at Barry's proud grin.
"So, how is little Kennedy doing?" He laughed. "And the big one?"
Claire chuckled shyly. Big Kennedy was alright for now as he hadn't got the terrible news yet.
"They're both fine," she lied. She hadn't made her mind up completely about what she was going to do. Maybe travelling to an abandoned island would be a nice way to spend the remainder of her pregnancy without putting anyone else in danger. Her lips drew a wry smile as she thought about her family. A family which was actually turning shit. After their wedding and later month long honeymoon, Leon hadn't stopped working, recovering all the time he had missed. Unfortunately, Claire couldn't be with her husband. Right after coming back from their trip, she had caught depressed Jill almost choking Summer, her own child. Since Chris was spending more time than ever with the B.S.A.A., she had decided to stay with her sister-in-law, distracting her as good as she could and making sure she was taking her meds. On top of that, Sherry was constantly argueing with Jake, sometimes calling Claire in the middle of the night, only to talk. It seemed like bioterrorism wasn't as bad as real life problems. The sound of her cellphone brought her back to the most current reality. "Sorry Barry, I have to get this," she murmured happily as she saw Leon's name appear on the display. "Hey darling." She smiled at Barry as she listened to her husband on the line. "I see. Sorry sweetheart, I had to get some stuff done. Really? You'll be here tomorrow?" She drew a wide smile onto her lips. "Yes, sure, let's meet for breakfast. Denny's? Fantastic. I love you too. I miss you. See you tomorrow."
As soon as she hung up, she looked back at Barry.
"So you're gonna meet your lucky husband tomorrow," he exclaimed laughing loud. "I'm happy for you. You haven't seen each other in a while."
"Yes," she nodded suddenly looking at her watch. "Damnit, I totally forgot I have an appointment in an hour."
Barry laughed loudly at her apologizing smirk.
"Then you better get going." He laid his hand on her shoulder. "But don't work too hard and eat more. You look too thin."
Claire couldn't keep the tears from shooting into her eyes as she nodded at him. Barry's presence made everything better. If their father had still been alive, he would have been very much like Burton. She swung her arms around his wide body and buried her face in his chest.
"Take care Barry. I wish Natalia gets better soon." She looked up. "And call me if you need anything."
"I will, Claire." He fatherly stroked her auburn ponytail.
Jill dropped into the armchair, not wishing to move ever again. It had taken her the whole afternoon to put Summer to sleep, whose first teeth were emerging through her swollen gums and were not only giving herself but also her mother a pretty hard time. The blonde yawned widely. At least the girl had finally fallen asleep, or fainted due to exhaustion. Who knew.
"Time for mommy to take a rest, too." Jill whispered to herself as she sunk into the cushions, the sweet smell of carrots stinging into her nose from the dry baby pap stains on her shirt. Being a mother was more demanding than anyone could have ever told her. Kathy Burton had been by her side with all kind of advice as mother and nurse. Also Claire had been helping her all through her pregnancy, labor and afterwards. She was so lucky to have such good friends. As far as she knew, her father had been completely alone after her mother had disappeared . How had he, a complete and utter wreck of a man, managed to raise her all by himself without completely messing her up? She had grown into a pretty normal woman after all.
Okay, she wasn't doing well lately, but thanks to that new medication she was receiving everything seemed lighter. Except her body. Her body felt heavier than ever. She smiled sarcastically. If only her husband could come home and help her. She felt her fingers curl into tight fists. As soon as the trouble had started , Chris was gone. Not gone like her mother had been. Gone working, always saving the world. She loved him unconditionally for making her the happiest woman alive, mother of a wonderful child; and she hated him equally for not taking care of that little bagpipe of a kid himself instead of fighting bioterrorism day and night. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Don't be cruel, Jill," she said to herself as she slowly drifted away.
She woke to the sound of the turning lock.
"Oh, sorry sweetie," Claire whispered as she turned the lights on. "I didn't mean to wake you."
Jill smiled shyly, still trying to open her eyes.
"What time is it?" she asked as soon as she noticed that the Sun had already set.
"Seven thirty." Claire ripped the shoes off her feet and left them on the floor, before walking barefeet into the kitchen and having a look at the inside of the freezer.
The blonde blinked at her, still confused.
"Isn't Chris here?"
That question was absurd. Chris hadn't come home in days. Claire had called the B.S.A.A several times to make sure her brother was still alive. Apparently, he was. But if it took him much longer to come home to his family she'd definitely murder him sooner or later. The redhead glanced back at her friend, grimacing slightly.
"What do you want for dinner?" She tried a cheerful tone and a bright smile to raise the blonde's mood. Jill stood up and dragged herself into the kitchen. She faked a smile, but failed.
"I'm not hungry." A sigh left her lips. "And I'm getting fat."
Claire knitted a brow.
"Stop talking bullshit Jill. You've gained some healthy weight after your radical postpartum express diet. And it's all because of the meds."
Jill sat at the counter and gave her friend a guilty look.
"Do you think he doesn't come home because he doesn't find me attractive anymore?"
Not again. They had had the exact same conversation hundreds, maybe thousands of times before. Jill drowning in self-pity was a pretty hard issue to deal with and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find the self-confident, tough B.S.A.A. soldier anywhere in the woman in front of her. She sighed as she took the blonde's hand. Jill hated being home, tied to a household and child without working wasn't doing her any good. Chris could've helped her but he literally abandoned his family. All of them, including his sister. And poor Jill was, once again, struggling with everything alone. If Claire had known that Chris loved his work more than he loved his own wife, she would have forced Jill to divorce him. Claire knew better though.
"You know what?" She smiled amusedly. "You should go out. I'll take care of Summer."
"You want me to go out alone?"
Claire shrugged. She'd often gone out alone. Movies, for instance, had to be enjoyed alone, she thought. But Jill needed company. Someone else than her year-old daughter, if possible. She tried to think of someone else to watch after Summer so she could join her friend, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Jill threw a questioning gaze at the redhead as she walked to the door.
"Clive! What a surprise," Jill exhaled. Claire observed the scene with scepticism. The blonde sounded far from surprised. Rather bored.
"Hey Jill. How is my favorite ass-kicking girl?" He laughed, causing the blonde to politely laugh.
"Lately I'm just ass-cleaning." She giggled at her own joke as she opened the door wide. "Come in."
"Have you had dinner yet?" He asked. "I heard there's a new Chinese restaurant in town and-"
"She hasn't!" Claire jumped happily towards the man and stretched her hand out. "It's good to see you again, Mister O'Brian."
Clive shook her hand.
"It's good to see you too, Miss Red- wait, I heard you are married now. Congratulations, by the way." He smirked at her. "I guess more than one man cried his heart out that day."
She couldn't help but roll her eyes giggling.
"As far as I know, only Chris did." She turned to Jill, who was fidgeting her feet nervously. "Go get ready for dinner. I'll stay here with Summer." The blonde gave her a doubtful glance but finally nodded before running into the bathroom. Dinner out would surely be nice, even if it was just with her former director.
"I'll be right back."
Claire exchanged glances with O'Brian. "Thank you."
He shook his head.
"No need to." He sighed. "Had I known she was taking it so bad I would have come earlier."
"She's not herself anymore." The redhead grimaced sadly. "Being held in this normal housewife life is killing her. Talk to her about work. Distract her - make her remember how it used to be."
Clive nodded. Talking about work was what he had in mind anyway. He wanted to know Jill's opinion about the plans he had for Chris, hoping to get her support.
Summer woke up as soon as her mother had left the house. Perfect timing. Something she had inherited from her father, for sure. Claire changed her diapers and prepared her a bottle, before having dinner herself and thinking about the recent news. She was glad and excited she'd meet Leon the next morning. She needed him. Before going to bed she took a picture of her niece and sent it to Chris.
'Tick, tick, tick. I'm pretty sure your daughter will soon start calling me Dad. The question is: Will you be there to hear it?'
He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. The burning pain on his cornea caused his vision to blur. The symptoms were painful; the diagnose, easy. Lack of sleep. Not even the espresso coffee was helping much to keep him awake. He had a look at his watch. It was almost midnight. Maybe he should just go home and rest. Home. Home was an idea he didn't enjoy any more. Because at home there was Jill. And where Jill was, there was trouble, arguments, screaming, destruction and unbridled rage. He didn't know how to help her, so he kept working, knowing that Claire was taking care of his wife and child, playing the role of the man of the house more than he was, sending him pictures and mocking messages he never answered. Just like the one before. Chris tapped his finger over the pile of unfinished reports there were still left and counted them, analyzing if they would keep him busy long enough to spend another night at the office. He sighed. Who was he trying to fool? There was never enough work to keep him away. He'd have to find another excuse to sleep on the couch next to his desk.
And that's where he went after turning the light off, slowly dragging himself over to the shiny brown leather-covered furniture. It wasn't comfortable, but it was better than sleeping with his head and arms resting on the desk and his ass on the chair. He sighed. The moon poured its light into the room and over that picture in the frame next to the couch. It showed him, Jill and other S.T.A.R.S. members before that fateful night in July 1998. Even Rebecca was there. How young they'd all been. It had been long before they'd become a couple, before she had done the unspeakable to save him from being killed by Wesker; even before the B.S.A.A. existed. Damn. How much he'd loved her back then. He still did. But back then, everything about Jill had been mysterious and beautiful and just sexy. Yes, she'd been so sexy with her full breasts and her hard ass stuffed into the tight uniforms, but it had been against regulations to have a romantic relationship with one of his co-workers. From the very beginning, work, friendship and respect didn't let him try to get into her pants. He sighed deeply, remembering that one night around 2004 when he'd come to the B.S.A.A. headquarters to train his lack of sleep away; when he had found Jill exercising as well, packed into tight sweatpants and a black tank top. She'd forgotten her towel to dry the sweat on her forehead and had used the shirt instead, allowing him a look at her grey, sweaty sports bra as she had pulled the hem up to her face. That had got him hard. He'd had seen her in her underwear several times when they had to share a bedroom on assignments, but that night, that hint of a sight had just made him wish to throw her onto the floor and fuck her until the break of dawn.
He breathed in deeply, his hand driving slowly downwards, surpassing the waistband of his pants, until it found his dick, grabbed it tightly. He knew she wouldn't have rejected him that night, she'd have done wonderful things to him and to his parts. Those things she'd used to do all those years after they'd started dating. Because Jill Valentine had an almost insatiable sexual appetite. And he'd had her in every possible position, using all kinds of toys and lubes and even costumes. He smirked remembering her dressed up as that ridiculously hot pirate and how he'd taken her twice in a row without letting her take the dress off.
Not really aware of what he was doing, Chris took his shirt off and threw it onto the floor next to him, unfastened his belt to get better access to his hard member, stroked himself. No other woman had got him hard without even being in front of him. Only Jill. The night after their first meeting he had masturbated in the shower, thinking of those precious tits of hers and how they swung elegantly up and down with every step she made. He and several other S.T.A.R.S. members had been wondering if she'd been wearing a bra. Her amazing breasts just popped back onto his mind as his hand was giving him the pleasure he longed for, he hadn't felt for too long. His head fell back onto the armrest. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, imagining himself in his younger days making love to Jill, on his desk in the S.T.A.R.S. office maybe. Or, even better, on Wesker's desk. He saw himself ripping her shirt off her breasts. And no, in his fantasy she didn't wear a bra, letting her hard nipples point directly at him. His strokes on his member got faster and faster as his mind drifted away to a past that never happened. At least not the way he was seeing it right now, himself penetrating her, as she bent over Wesker's desk. He'd be so mad.
"Oh Jill," he gasped into the cold darkness of his office when he felt his orgasm approach, spilling his load all over his stomach as the spasms ran through his body and the heat filled him completely. He licked his lip again. Sighed heavily as he put his arm behind his head. His eyes kept closed. He wished he could be with 'the old Jill' again. He loved every inch of her body. And he missed her. Missed her skin, her touch. In the last months of the pregnancy Jill had to rest and wasn't allowed sexual intercourse. Of course, he had understood. After Summer was born, the sleepless nights had started and she hadn't felt like having sex. And he had understood. Claire had come to help so they could rest and everything seemed to improve, but Jill had gotten depressed. She couldn't bear being touched anymore. And he had he wasn't able to get of out his head was the unbearable control Jill was having over him to the point, that pleasure itself was snuffed out entirely, no lust or love could survive like this. A tight grip seemed to strangle him slowly, sucking the life out of him as he lay on that couch in his office. What would Jill think if she saw him in that shape, his heart and head twisted in knots? Eyebrows furrowed, a frown marring his lips, he slowly surrendered to sleep. How could she make him feel so guilty about something so natural without even being around?
His eye twitched as he looked at the map the hot chick had brought him. He'd been hesitant about working with a woman with a resume like hers, wondering how anyone could trust her. People who were likely to switch sides only for money weren't worth someone of his calibre. He acted out of conviction; worked for a purpose, a superior state of mind. It was what had made him accept that crazy job offer, along with curiosity, of course. He looked up to the woman in front, who fidgeted waiting for an answer. Her desperate posture made him even pity her. Did she have something to live for? A purpose? A desire? Someone to love? The only thing admirable about her was her clean work. He licked his lips and focused on the map again. The place she had found was indeed ideal for its purpose.
"Good job." He cleared his throat.
"What's next?" She arched a brow. He typed something into the computer on the desk.
"You take care of DC," he mumbled as she pulled a beeping device out of her pocket and looked at it.
"Bill Richardson?" she asked, surprised by the fainting expression of hatred on the man's face, or the little she could see of it in the dim light. "How is he related to this job?"
He smirked coldly. "Let's make a deal, beautiful," he hissed as he shoved a silver suitcase over the surface. "I reduce your payment five percent every time you ask a question you shouldn't."
The woman rolled her eyes and put the device away to grab the case.
"I'll get back to you as soon as this is done." Turning on her heels, she started walking to the exit.
"Wong!" Ada coolly turned around, giving him a doubtful glance. "This is the most important part of the mission. Don't mess up."
"I never fail." Her heels echoing against the dark metal warehouse walls, fading into silence. As she exited by the bay, she took into account her new job. The disgusting places this guy had picked for their meetings made her doubt him and question the consequences of ageing as a spy. In her younger days, men had wanted to meet her in luxurious hotel suites, shiny casinos or expensive lounges, even though at the end of the day, the jobs always smelled like death and rotten flesh. Ada sighed, no matter, she'd have to find a place to set up her operation. Her new job required that she had to slip a virus sample into the bag of a journalist. Easy, too easy.
She had a look at the information she'd been sent about Richardson. He'd be covering a conference the President was going to give the following day. So he wanted her in Washington as soon as possible. She sighed. What was he trying to hide from her and why was it so urgent that journalist got arrested?
She needed to find out what that guy was hiding. But she'd have to take care of Richardson first. A well paying job like this one needed to be done quickly and efficiently, but Ada couldn't help but love the intrigue surrounding her mystery employer. She smirked, lips curling, "Let's see how this one unfolds." She slowly turned and slipped into the night as the water lapped against the pier and the world waited for tomorrow.
You wanted long chapters, you'll get long chapters!
Thank you so much for reading. I hope you like what I'm showing you so far, even though it's a fucking drama. I'd really like to know what you think about this chapter and its length.
Wait, I'm not done yet! I have to thank a whole bunch of people who are making this possible!
First of all I have to thank Adonna2424 for taking the time to read and improve this work. The best parts and strongest sentences (like the last one, for instance) are hers.
Chris' midnight scene on the couch was entirely Sofistinha's idea and I loved it, because it combines perfectly with Jill's bad shape and depression. I guess we're really not being very nice here xD Also to Lastdragonborn274 for the advice.
Thanks, of course, to all the readers who had a look at the prologue and to those who are already following and liking the story, even wthout knowing much about it. Especially to Thebigticket21, who has been my biggest inspiration for this work. No joke! Thanks for that, my friend :D
Okay, I think that's all.
Have a nice week ^^
