A/N: Last chapter people, yeah?
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One month later and he is….better.
If better is the right word for it. Which it isn't.
He goes through life, a 'what-ho, Jeeves' in the morning and 3 meals a day (which he picks at and takes an age to get through) and a 'goodnight, Jeeves' and a kiss at the end of the day, lying next to you under cold covers, hands linked in an intricate puzzle.
Sometimes you have sex, gentle and tender and harsh and fast and everything in between.
And in another life, this might be enough. You could be happy with this not quite full not quite empty lover with blond hair that looks like a halo on lazy summer mornings and fingers brushing secretly all the time. Except it isn't another life; the two of you are both still not even halfway through this one (you hope) and it isn't enough.
"Night, Jeeves," he murmurs softly, not quite awake and not quite asleep, looking beautiful in the light of the moon coming through the partly open curtains.
"Goodnight, sir," you reply softly, not quite unable to resist the urge to run your fingers through his blonde strands.
It has been enough for you so far, now you think about it.
Maybe it'll come to be enough again.
THE END