"Dearie, are you alright?"

With an internal sigh Emma glanced over to her Uncle and noted his worried expression. An expression, as of late, he wore more often than not. "Fine, sleep was a little hard to come by last night is all." It was an excuse she was using more often than not as well.

At least it wasn't technically a lie. She had tossed and turned for what seemed liked hours before finally be able to drift off. Even that explanation, though, seemed kind compared to the true frustration that had plagued her. The sleep she had managed to achieve had been brief and weak and easily broken by even the smallest of noises. Her own breathing would even do the trick. Suffice to say, Emma was quite exhausted at the moment. She could only assume tonight would be the same if not worse. She couldn't even remember the last time she hadn't had trouble trying to slip into blissful unconsciousness. Days? Weeks? A month? It couldn't possibly be more, could it?

Since him a treacherous voice whispered in the deep recesses of her mind.

Emma slightly shook her head. No, she would not think of him. Not even for a second.

"The mattresses at that inn were a bit uncomfortable," Belle commented helpfully, leaning her head against her husband's shoulder. "It took me a little longer than usual to finally get some shut eye too."

Rumple scoffed. "I'd forgive the mattresses if the Keeper hadn't been so distasteful." He spat out the word like poison. "Starring at you and Emma like that, I was about to beat him with my cane. He was lucky it was so late at night and there wasn't another place to lodge for miles."

Belle chuckled and patted his hand. "Come now Rumple, it wasn't that bad. You know how you tend to overreact when it comes to your family."

He let out a huff. "Well if that's my only sin I'll be glad to have it."

"You should have seen him when we first met Emma," Belle began with a fond smile. "A tendency to overreact was the least of his problems back then."

"Oh?"

She nodded her head. "Hard to believe but we actually weren't very fond of each other. He had a temper and a sharp tongue to boot which irritated me on more than a few occasions. My, we must have fought about anything from the moon in the sky to the bugs in the grass. We couldn't ever quite find some equal ground."

"Only because you were just as, ah, outspoken shall we say, as I was Dearie." Rumple interjected with a smirk.

Belle rolled her eyes. "I suppose. Point is, Rumple always had his less then desirable traits but there was an always a good man underneath it all. A very good man. All I had to do was see past all those beastly traits to see it. Of course him softening up a little was quite necessary too but who could really fight my charms for so long?"

"No one, that's who." He murmured and placed a chaste kiss to her temple.

The scene was endearing. Romantic. Swoon worthy and the subjects of poems.

Emma's stomach twisted so hard she feared she might empty it.

They were adorable, they always were, and usually their little displays and stories of love didn't really bother her so. Snow adored them and Emma tolerated them but right now, for the first time ever, she despised them. Because talk of an infuriating man, of less than idealistic first meetings and a lack of shared feelings, of eventually love and adoration, it was all attacking unmercifully at her mind reminding her of a very similar case. A very similar case.

And Emma couldn't bear to even thin it.

"Where are we stopping next?" She asked, desperate to change the topic of conversation. Talk of anything but this, please.

"I was hoping Pemberely," Rumple replied casually. As if he hadn't given the worst possible answer he could have to shatter Emma's world.

Oh no, no, no, no, no.

"What?!" She cried leaning frantically forward and forgetting to reign in her emotions.

The explosion caused her relatives to start, both of them letting out small surprised gasps and looking at her as if she had gone mad. Rumple's cane even bounced from his lap and banged loudly against the carriage floor.

"Emma's what's wrong?" Bell asked immediately, her eyes lighting with worry.

"I-it's…"

Rumple hastily retrieved his cane. "Do you have some disagreement with the place? To my knowledge I thought you've never even laid eyes on it."

"I haven't. It's just that, well…" The Master of the home had proposed marriage to me and I rejected it? This would have been my future home had I said yes? That it would be more then improper to visit it considering everything that had happened?

Not that she could say a thing without revealing her deepest secret.

"Emma?" Belle prompted softly. "Is is because of Mr. Darcy? Your mother had told me of your acquaintance with him and Red had taken it upon herself to give all the details."

Yes, Emma could only imagine the gossip Red had given about them. But it wasn't exactly a secret to anyone how much she disliked him. Or at least, used to. Or still did. Or-oh, she didn't even know anymore.

Emma looked down to her lap where her hands had begun to fiddle with the tips of the shall draped over her shoulders. "He-we, that is, aren't on the most friendliest of terms."

"Is that so?" Rumple asked, a curious but hard tone lacing his words. The kind of tone he had when talking of the Inn Keeper and his travelling eyes. The tone of a protective Uncle.

"Nothing serious," Emma assured. "Nothing improper. Just that, well I suppose you can't get along with everyone you meet, can you?"

"Certainly, and if that's the case," Belle nudged her husband pointedly.

"The case, actually, is that the Master of the home is away." Rumple informed. "Perhaps I should have mentioned that earlier."

"Away? What do you mean?"

"I don't know the exact business but whatever it is it has taken him to London. The house is empty and open to viewing."

That certainly did change matters but Emma still felt the need to protest. Even if Killian wasn't home, it still felt a little wrong to go and inspect the place where he slept and eat and spent most of his days. Maybe he would never know but still, she would. She had said no to him, rejected his kiss, and now she was about to involve herself in an aspect of his life, even if he wasn't there to witness it?

At least that was what one part of her was saying. The other part?

It was beyond curious to see the place Killian Darcy called home. A place that, had destiny gone a little differently, she would have called home too.


Emma kept telling herself it was okay, Killian wasn't here.

He was going to greet them at the door, or be down the hall, or around the corner, or inside the room. Didn't stop her from saying it every single time the opportunity arose. She had to stop, though, or she'd miss this wonderful place called Pemberely.

And what a place it was.

She had been awestruck, quite literally, the moment she had stepped out of the wagon. For a moment she had thought they had come upon a Mansion owned by one of the members of the royal family. It was just that splendid and grand and-and well it was beyond words quite frankly.

The inside did the outside just as much justice.

The ceilings were high and gold rimmed, the walls decorated with paintings and tapestries, and the floors either a pristine tile or sparkling wood. Everything was sparkling. Not a smudge of first or dust to be seen. There was no barren spot in any room either, everything was used to the full extent.

Emma was floored. She couldn't even properly explain it but she didn't want to either. All she wanted to do was go to the next room, then the next, and the next, and the next…

"This is magnificent" Belle awed as the traveled along the length of the dining room table that was tall as an ancient evergreen. "Truly"

"It is quite impressive." Rumple said causally but both Emma and Belle could tell he was secretly impressed. It just wasn't an emotion he expressed well.

"The door here leads to the gardens," The maid, their now makeshift tour guide, waved her hand over to an exquisite pair of glass double doors. Right there in the dining room, practically acting as a centerpiece. Emma had never seen such a thing. "Since it's such a beautiful day why don't we go for a stroll? We can resume the tour by coming back in through the den where the Master keeps his most prized works of art."

While the promise of that was enticing Emma was more excited to see what the back of Pemberely looked like. The front had surely been a sight with its large slopping grass fields and mile long pond decorated with shooting fountains. She had noticed the lack of flowers but now assumed they were all kept to the back where Darcy must keeping a garden sure to be envied.

Emma had been right.

The wind was knocked right out of her widened to take in the mass field covered by practically every color of the rainbow. It was endless rows of flowers, plants, bushes and trees all wit thin brick paths winding and curving within the wildlife, teasing on lookers to come and walk their paths. A circular fountain was in the middle of it, certainly not the size of the one in front of the Manor but this suited its surroundings much more. It was subtle and elegant and was the perfect centerpiece.

"Oh Rumple isn't it beautiful?" Belle said in a dazed tone. "It looks as if you could walk in it for hours."

"Even more so my lady," The maid said pleasantly. "I once tried myself and spent a whole day doing it to only find I'd barely made a dent." "The only thing here at Pemberely I would said rivals its size is our library. I'm sure if I read a book a day, even two, I still wouldn't even finish in this lifetime."

The one simple word made Belle's face light up like a candle. Already you could see the excitement coursing through her veins. Rumple and Emma shared a knowing look and had to stifle their laughter.

"Library?" She exclaimed with a face splitting grin. "You have a library?"

"Of course my Lady. The best for miles to come. Perhaps even near the grandeur of the Royal family. The Master, more than his appreciation of art, has a passionate love for reading and knowledge. When he's home you're sure to find him there if not with his sister."

Sister? Oh yes, Killian's younger sister, Emma remembered now. The supposed match for David according to Regina's letter to Snow. While the whole occurrence still left Emma a bit sour she wasn't so quick to blame, what was her name? Tinkerbell, yes, that was it. She couldn't blame her for the whole matter. Emma couldn't even be sure the girl knew of Snow's existence let alone the almost relationship she and David had.

She was just about to ask if the young lady was home (the same curiosity to see Killian's home now transferred to that of his sister) but Belle was already taking the maid politely by the arm and begging in her usual kind and innocent way to be brought to the library, even if it wasn't next on the tour. The kind woman merely smiled and said "Of course."

"Emma?" Rumple said questioningly when she didn't immediately follow.

While Emma did adore reading (almost as much as Belle but of course no one could love reading as much as her) and was extremely interested to see this grand library her fascination still lied with the extensive garden before her.

"Go ahead without me, I just want to take a little stroll first. A quick one I promise."

Rumple nodded his head and walked after his wife.

As Emma took her first step onto one of the many paths, one guarded by bushes of lavenders and a young weeping willow, she realized it was the first time in a while she was finally alone. She loved her Aunt and Uncle dearly and would never say a bad thing about them but Emma was also one to appreciate her alone time. But this trip, one she didn't regret mind you and was extremely thankful for, had eliminated every possibility to have one.

It would be nice, if only for a moment, to enjoy the solace and be left to her own thoughts.

But Emma also forgot she didn't very much like the direction her thoughts had been going now a days.

If they didn't drift to him which they always did then it was to the other troubling matter. His letter.

It had come for the day she was set to leave Ariel and August's house, two days after Killian had proposed and Emma had rejected him. She had been shocked at its presence and baffled at what it could possibly say. What more was there to be said between them? She could only figure it was an apology of some sorts and if it was the case Emma was too afraid to read it. Yes, she was afraid. She had always prided herself on the amount of courage she possessed, something her whole family admitted to (even her mother and that was saying something), and yet she could barely stand to look at the white envelope let alone hold it.

Emma had brought it with her all the way home, still untouched, and kept it hidden under her bed before it was time to leave with Rumple and Belle. Then when that day had come to finally go something possessed Emma to take it along, something she still couldn't even explain to herself.

Now it was buried within one of her bags, squished between two dresses.

Still unopened. Still a mystery.

Emma sighed and continued along the path, trying hard to appreciate the beauty around her.

"Emma?"

The familiar accent had her twirling around with wide eyes. "Graham?"

Low and behold the Colonel himself appeared from the brush, a surprised but happy expression on his face. He was dressed much more casual then she had last seen him and Emma immediately thought suited him much better than the elaborate code his Aunt enforced in her home. He looked more peaceful now, certainly more at ease with his surroundings. Even the rigid army posture was gone for something much more untailored.

"What a surprise to see you here," He said with a chuckle before catching her hand and placing a quick peck there. "A great surprise indeed."

She blushed slightly and gave an informal curtsey. "It's a surprise to see you here too."

"Well I am related to the owner of the home." Graham pointed out. "Wait, is that why you're here? To see Killian?"

Just like that that the whole plan to have inspected Killian's home with his knowledge was shattered to pieces. Emma would have groaned loudly and maybe even stomped her foot she felt so helpless in the moment. There was no way Graham wouldn't mention to him and she couldn't ask him to keep such a secret from his cousin. There was no hope. Killian would find out and think her mad or cruel or something horrible.

"I, uh, actually…" Emma's face grew hot with frustration and embarrassment, deepening with every passing second, even though poor Graham was totally ignorant to her inner turmoil. Unless he did know. Would have Killian told him?

Emma grew even more miserable at the thought.

"Emma?" Graham prodded gently as the silence prolonged. "Are you alright?"

"My Uncle and Aunt," She blurted out. "They wanted to visit. I didn't-I really didn't have a choice. We're, ah, travelling together you see and we were passing by. And they wanted to visit. And…"

Graham halted her rambling when he grasped her gently by the shoulders and gave a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, hey, it's fine," He said quietly and with a smile. "It's not a crime to visit. Are you hot maybe? When is the last time you had some water?"

He thought the sun was making her delirious. Well, it wasn't the worst of excuses she'd be happy to hide behind.

"Come with me, we'll get you something to drink." Graham hooked their arms together and took her down the path he appeared from, deeper into the garden and away from the house. "We'll have you better in no time."

Emma nodded her head and went to righting her fumbled mind. She was making a ridiculous show of herself. It was just Graham who, in all their time of knowing each other, had always been kind and gracious. If he did know of Killian's proposal he would act the gentleman and not mention it to her. And if he didn't know, even better. There was still the problem of him telling Killian of her presence at Pemberely and Emma could only be happy in the fact that at least she never have to physically witness the outcome of such news.

"We were all having a little picnic anyways," Graham's voice broke through her thoughts. "I was just heading back to the house to grab some clothes. Poor Tink created quite the mess with our juice."

Tink.

So Killian was out but his sister was still home. Just another witness to her sin. Another voice in Killian's ear. Fantastic. Emma could do nothing now short of ripping herself from Graham's grasp and dashing away.

"Are you hungry as well? Killian of course over planned and ordered enough food to feed a whole household…"

Oh God no.

Emma's feet dug into the ground the moment his name was uttered but it was too late. Graham had led her around a small tree decorated with white flowers and right into the makeshift picnic sight.

Right to him.

Time seemed to stop the moment his blue eyes connected with her own green ones. It happened instantaneously, like fate, like it was always she he would notice first. Emma couldn't even register anything else but his face, how it looked to be covered with more stubble then she had last seen him, and how his hair looked, as always, wildly askew.

The white petals were falling from the tree, Emma was dimly aware of it, and only because it began to lightly obscure his image from her. But what really brought her back to reality was how the surprise in Killian's expression changed from utter shock to indifference, cold and hard, so much more so then she had ever seen in her whole relationship with him.

Indifferent to her. Completely and utterly.

Emma felt the insane urge to hide in a corner.

"Graham who is this?" A pleasant, high toned and melodic voice asked. "A fairy you caught in our garden?"

Emma ripped her gaze from Killian (who wasn't even bearing to look at her anymore) to see a petite young girl sitting by his side. Emma almost laughed at how much like a fairy she looked compared to her. If her size didn't give enough evidence it was her luminous smile, her just as bright blonde hair that was placed in a high bun but had tight curls falling around her face, and the pleasant rosiness of her cheeks. Even her gown gave the most delicate and delightful image, a complete white clothe that fluttered out from her waist and had lace decorations around her upper body.

"Not a fairy," Graham laughed and walked over to their large blanket covered with the most delicatble looking foods (much more fancier then any picnic Emma had ever took). "Just Miss Emma Bennet."

Tinkerbell's eyes lit up as if it was the greatest piece of information ever given to her. As if Emma was the greatest person she had ever to have seen. "Miss Emma Bennet?" She exclaimed and whipped her head towards her brother. "The Miss Emma Bennet?"

Emma could clearly seem him grit his teeth and keep his gaze aimed down towards the blanket. "Tink" He gritted out warningly.

"She's travelling with her Uncle and Aunt," Graham informed as he lounged down the grass and grabbed a roll of bread. "They wanted to see the notorious Pemberly on this fine summer day."

"I'm sorry," Emma blurted out, rather loudly too. For her first words to speak in his presence they were delivered a little awkwardly.

At least it was enough to finally make Killian look at her again. But even then his face was still as hard as a stone and impossible for Emma to decipher.

"I-we were told," She licked at her suddenly dry lips. "That you were out. In London. That the house was empty. If…If I had known…" I wouldn't have dared come. I would have kept far away. I-I'm sorry.

Emma looked down to the ground and tried to calm her breathing. But her body would have none of it. If she didn't leave now she was sure she was going to make a fool of herself. Even more than she already had.

"I'm sorry," She said again and backed away. "I hadn't meant to bother you."

Then she was gone.

Emma kept on going down the path, going as fast as she possibly could without breaking out into a full sprint. She heard Graham's voice calling after her, Tinkerbell's as well, but it didn't stop her. There was no possibly good way to get out of this situation. And the least harmful one? What she was doing right now, making a run for it. She'd never see them again, she was sure of it, so what did it matter what her little stunt was saying about it?

What did any of it matter anymore?

Something-no-someone stopped her before she could escape the gardens. Today was turning out to be a very-very bad day for. She should have never left bed at this point. Maybe never even left home and taken this trip to begin with.

If only.

A strangled gasp escaped Emma's lips when a hand clamped down on her lower arm. But she had been going too fast. The action was successful on stopping her procession but had Emma stumbling on her feet, her skirts wrapping around her legs and aiming to drag her downwards.

She let out a cry as her body began to fall downwards, heading for the cruel bricks below, but the hand on her arm remained strong and pulled while another one appeared, hooking around her waist and preventing any collision. It did, though, had her barreling right into the chest of whoever dared to have chased after her.

Emma didn't need to look to see. Only one of them would have followed. Only one of them would have dared to touch her so.

With a shaky breathe Emma dared to look into his eyes. Killian.

"Emma," He breathed, obviously a little over exerted from running after her. "Are you okay?"

Her lips were still dry, even more than before, and she licked at them almost unconsciously. But her face was so close to Killian's she should have known it would draw his attention.

"Fine," She answered. "I'm fine. I'm…" Pressed against you in the most inappropriate way.

"You ran," He stated simply. And still didn't make a move to detangle himself from her. Not even the smallest inclination.

Emma swallowed thickly. "I…did."

Killian tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, contemplatively though not maliciously. He looked at her like she was puzzle he couldn't quite figure out. Oddly enough, it made Emma feel a little hollow. He was usually so good at reading her, he said himself she was an open book. So what changed? And more importantly, why did it upset that it did?

"What are you doing here Em-Miss Bennet?"

She cringed. He'd never willingly called her that, she would always have to order him to do so. Apparently not anymore.

"I…I am with my Aunt and Uncle. And I swear, I hadn't known you were here. We were told you had business in London. Had I known I-I wouldn't have come. I wouldn't have…" Her voice trailed off into silence. There wasn't much more she could say anyways.

Killian frowned but remained quiet.

The silence was unnerving but the worst of it was that it emphasized that they were still intricately tangled together. So much so Emma couldn't ignore any further, even though she wanted to.

"Uh," She glanced down to their chests that were pressed together. "Thank you for catching me."

Killian followed her gaze, his eyebrows rising up. He looked as if he hadn't known he was keeping them so close together for the past moments. Laughable in any other situation but definitely not this one. He released his grip on both her arm and waist immediately and took two large steps backward, muttering a quick apology.

At least the distance managed to clam her thoughts and body to a degree.

"Are you staying at Declan's?" He inquired. It was that much of a lucky guess, it was the only Inn in the area. It was also the only one her Uncle would agree to stay in after the fiasco at the last one. This, he deemed, was much more respectable for their party.

"Yes. I should go find my Aunt and Uncle now actually. I'm sure they're already planning to leave."

"So soon?" They could have arrived five minutes ago for all he knew. "Do you need a carriage?"

"Oh no, thank you but we have our own. And-"

"I'm sorry," Killian interrupted and, disregarding his earlier actions, walked forward. "But I must ask. You received my letter? That is all I wish to know, we don't have to speak any further on it. Just that...that you got it."

The blasted letter. Of course he would ask.

The guilt came quietly. The image of it tucked in her suitcase popped in her mind. Emma bit her bottom lip and attempted to will it all away. "Yes, I received it."

"Good, that's good."

And that's all. Please. Please ask nothing else. Please. You said you wouldn't. So please don't. Please.

"I have to say, I'm surprised."

Stupid man.

"I mean," Killian scratched at the back of his ear, a nervous gesture she was beginning to notice. "Knowing you, I would have thought you'd have some opinion on the matters I brought up."

Maybe she would have had she actually read the letter.

"I thought you weren't going to ask anymore on the matter."

"I thought it was just a formality. To be polite, if you would."

So whatever was in that letter, Killian was confident she would have said something.

God, what was in that letter?

"I don't want to talk about it," Emma chose on saying. What else could she say without revealing the truth? That was certainly not an option.

A wiry grin twisted onto Killian's face. "I should have guessed. Even with those words, your opinion of me doesn't change."

This was becoming too confusing. Emma didn't have enough information to even properly be in this conversation and it was quickly going into dangerous territory. Hell, it was already there. Again, there was no more option. She needed to leave. Now. "Mr. Darcy I must return to my Aunt and Uncle. I've been parted from them for too long."

"But of course," Killian laughed mirthlessly. "I don't know why I excepted anything else."

Well, she supposed she deserved this bitterness. She was intruding his home.

"I am sorry." She said in a near whisper.

But Killian had already left.


There had been questions when she had returned to Rumple and Belle. There had been even more when she had asked, more demanded, they leave and go to the Inn. But, ever understanding and diligent, the two elders hadn't pressed their niece when she had begged for privacy. Belle had merely took her by the shoulders while Rumple followed behind protectively.

Emma was sure he even heard him mumble something unpleasant about the master of the home (the maid had apparently told them he wasn't in London the exact moment Emma had went off on her own).

They had even chose to let her be when she went into her room and promptly shut the door, never to have come out since.

To be fair, the cocoon she had made in her bed was quite warm and comfortable. It also did wonders of locking her against the mattress so she couldn't reach over to the suitcase the letter was hidden in.

That internal debate lasted for about an hour.

Holding the letter in her hands but not opening it last fifteen.

After the seal was finally broken and the white page unfolded, Emma thought it best not to leave her room until the next morning.


"How are you liking your eggs?"

Emma looked up from her very untouched plate to the kind eyes of her Aunt.

"I'm sorry, I'm just…not hungry…I suppose."

Belle shrugged. "That's fine. We all have those days. It's just, you seem to be having these day more often than not. I'm just worried for you Emma. We both are."

Emma glanced over to her Uncle who was the speaking with the Inn Keeper about better towels or something of the sort.

"It's just…" Emma bit her bottom lip. She hadn't even spoke of the matter with Snow, who above anyone she would usually tell her secrets. The occasion had almost come up when she had returned home from Ariel's yet Snow, just back from London, was as despondent as ever. She hadn't run into David on her trip to London, hadn't even heard his name uttered in her company. So, as excepted, she had come home with a broad yet false smile, endless promises of being fine, and the blatant lie of the name David Bingley having no effect on her. She was so wrapped up in the charade that Emma couldn't bring herself to talk of her own problems.

Emma blew out a sigh when the words failed to come. She wasn't sure if it was because she didn't know how to voice her issues or if she was just too afraid to.

"A man perhaps?" Belle guessed after it became apparent Emma wasn't going to say anything.

Her body gave a jolt.

The hint of a smirk twitched at Belle's lips. "It's okay, you don't have to say anything. But perhaps you'll let me offer you some advice?" She reached across the table and grasped her hands. "Love-love is layered. It's a mystery to be uncovered. And sometimes it's not an easy task to accomplish. I should know. But if you keep with it, if you survive the bad and keep going on, its oh so worth it Emma."

Survive the bad. Was it that easy? Especially with what I now know?

Emma starred down quietly into her cold eggs.

"So, have you told her?" Rumple inquired, somewhat with an edge too, as he came to join them.

"Just about to," Bell replied chirpily. "We received an invitation this morning Emma, from Mr. Darcy."

With a yelp Emma's elbow slipped off the table and her head almost crashed into her plate.

"As I expected" Rumple muttered. "We don't have to go. I'll send him some excuse immediately-"

"Rumple," Belle warned. "She hasn't even said anything yet."

Emma righted herself immediately. "He really sent one?" After the kind of conversation they had? After everything that's happened?

Could it really be possible?

Belle nodded. "So what do you think?"

What did she think? That was a very good question. It was obvious they were putting the answer in her hands and, surprisingly, it wasn't as heavy as she thought.

If they would have broached her with the question yesterday, both before and after the disastrous visit, she would have said no. A hundred percent no. But now, things were different. Now, she had read the letter.

The heaviness that had settled down on her heart the moment Killian left Ariel's home so long ago seemed to have lifted now. If not completely then certainly enough to let her have some hopes about see Mr. Darcy again.

If not anything else, she surely did owe him an apology on some fronts.

"I think we should go."


Authors Note: So this chapter diverted a lot from P&P canon, hoped you liked it. I like the character of Graham too much, I needed to have him in it some more. I'm also bringing in some ouat Rumple/Killian tension, I thought it'd be fun ;)

And there is a ouat Belle quote I through in there, thought it fit the situation well.

Also, to anyone curious or confused, the letter basically followed the traditional story of P that Neal was left money and the parsonage from Killian's father but blew it all and attempted to seduce/marry Tink to get back into good fortune. Also just many a more apologies of breaking up Snow and David and it was done with the best intentions for the happiness of his friend.

Reviews are forever appreciated and encourage!