Water Under the Bridge
Dancing in the Moonlight
Talcott screeched to a halt, the tail end of the truck hanging out of the designated parking spot. Neither of the men really cared how they were parked, though. There were more pressing issues at hand.
Ignis threw the door open and stumbled out, getting about halfway around the back end of the vehicle before Talcott asked what they should do with the books.
"Leave them!" Ignis responded, waving a hand over his shoulder and signaling for Talcott to follow. Both men raced through the streets, Ignis having memorized the city layout by now. On the way, he almost tripped over a decrepit pallet, but Talcott pulled him back up by the collar of his shirt.
The advisor's heart was pounding in his ears and he was shocked that no one else could hear it. A million scenarios ran through his head, each one more morbid than the last. As they approached the Levelle, screams and yells could be heard from outside.
"A little help here?!" Prompto shrieked as the two men came into the Levelle's lobby.
Ignis heard Talcott gasp.
Gladio, red-faced and teeth ground together, had Aranea pinned against the wall in the lobby as he yelled obscenities in her face. Prompto pulled desperately at Gladio's arm and Talcott, now realizing what was happening, ran in and tried to de-escalate the situation.
"You good for nothing wench! How could you? How could you put her in harm's way?! What sort of Commodore are you? Do you have any idea what the fuck you did?" Gladio spat, squeezing Aranea's arms a little tighter. She was scratched and bruised from whatever turmoil her and her team had been through, but at least she was relatively, physically, alright. Though her facial expression conveyed little emotion, her eyes told a different story—one of regret, sadness, and indifference. She stayed limp in his grasp, head tilted back against the wall.
"Come on! Get off of her, Gladio!"
Gladio threw Prompto away from him, keeping one hand on a vapid Aranea. It was clear she wasn't going anywhere, but Gladio was taking no chances. "Prompto, stay the fuck out of this!"
Ignis took a step forward, his shoes clicking on the linoleum flooring. "Gladio, what is the meaning of this?"
As if his voice was the voice of reason, Gladio snapped his head up and looked back at his friend, but the rage still remained. It almost seemed like he was close to tears, eyes glazed over. "Ignis, this is none of your business!"
"Well, if it has anything to do with my friends, I have intentions of making it my business." Another cautious step. "Release Aranea, please."
Gladio released Aranea from against the wall, stalking over toward Ignis, forcing Prompto and Talcott to the side. "Alright, then. You want to make this shit your business? Well, your girlfriend—," he began, spitting the word out with malice and sarcasm, "—royally fucked up her mission. They were ambushed by a few Nagaranis and, instead of retreating with everyone to safety, she decided to put everyone in harm's way by heading into battle. Because of her, we lost a hunter, Wedge had to be cured from stone, and Iris is at the medical center fighting for her goddamn life."
Aranea crossed her arms defensively. "I did what I had to— "
"Hey! You shut the fuck up because you know you were only thinking about yourself!" Gladio roared, Aranea's voice lighting a fire inside him again. He turned back and reached for her before she moved out of his way, Prompto and Talcott scrambling to seize him. Instead, it was Ignis who grabbed the large man by the forearm, yanking him back while Talcott and Prompto moved to stand between Gladio and Aranea.
Gladio looked down at Ignis with surprise in his eyes, but the surprise faded into resentment as he interpreted Ignis' stopping him as siding with the Commodore. "What the fuck, Ignis? You have one stupid wet dream about her and now all of a sudden you take her side over your best friends? That's just a little fucked up, don't you think?"
"Gladiolus Amicitia, that's enough," Ignis commanded, stepping around in front of him with one hand pressed against his friend's chest in an effort to restrain him. "Understandably, you're irrational and you're not thinking straight. Please, I'm asking you, stop this instant and take a breather before you say something you really regret."
"What are you, my father? Back the fuck off, Iggy, and let me handle this." The muscles in Gladio's jawline were tense and moved as he clenched his teeth, seething. His hands were balled by his side and he engaged in a type of stare down with the advisor. Ignis refused to let go, his hand firm against the man's muscular chest. Gladio clicked his tongue and pointed a finger in Aranea's direction, just over Ignis' shoulder. "Whatever, then. Just get that fucking bitch out of my face."
Something inside Ignis snapped. He could tolerate a lot from Gladio and he had let him get away with saying many things over the years, but this—the outright disrespect toward Aranea—he couldn't handle. With his teeth bared, in one swift move, he brought his fist back and launched forward, landing a clean hit across Gladio's jaw. The punch resounded throughout the lobby, Prompto and Aranea yelling as they jolted forward to pull the two apart. Ignis willingly stepped back with Aranea at his side, inhaling through his teeth as he shook his hand to rid the pain.
Gladio, on the other hand, was cursing up a storm, holding his jaw with one hand as he pointed at Ignis with the other. "What the fuck was that for?!" he demanded, his eyes narrowed while Prompto and Talcott each kept a hand on Gladio's broad shoulders.
"Let's go." Aranea began to pull at Ignis' arm eagerly, forcing him to follow her up the stairs. From below, Gladio was calling Ignis every vulgar name in the book, but Ignis ignored each one as he trailed behind Aranea, following her footsteps to the end of the hall all the way to her room. At her door, she fumbled with her key, flustered, trying a couple of times before finally getting it right, opening the door with a huff.
They clamored inside, escaping the turmoil to vague silence within the room. Aranea slammed the door behind her and screamed at the top of her lungs in frustration, hitting the wall with the palm of her hand once, twice, several more times. Ignis stood nearby, both unsure of what to do to calm Aranea down and extremely unaccustomed to her room to move about freely—much like he could in his own room.
She stopped hitting the wall long enough to catch her breath, letting her forehead rest against the door. Once Aranea composed herself with several deep breaths, she wordlessly skimmed passed Ignis and continued over to the small cupboard in the corner of the room, pulling out a bottle of red wine and, next to it, two cups. She held them up triumphantly. "Thought I'd save this one for a special occasion, but I think we could use the buzz right about now. Care to join me?" she asked, taking a seat in a small chair nearby.
Ignis, still standing where he was when he first came in, slowly shuffled about to the other chair just opposite of the one that Aranea was sitting in. While absentmindedly rubbing the hand that he assaulted Gladio's jaw with, he took a seat and gave a soft smile. "I suppose I could use a glass of something to take the edge off after punching my best friend in the face. Mind if I ask what it is we're having?"
With a corkscrew that she pulled from a nearby drawer, Aranea pulled the cork off the bottle with a succinct 'pop', pouring into one of the cups. "A bottle of red wine I found in an abandoned restaurant when I was in Altissia. I snagged a couple and haven't found the right time to break into them. They looked to be high-end wines, but I usually stick with the cheap shit so I'm not sure if it'll be good or not. Does it really matter at this point, though?"
Aranea nudged Ignis' shoulder with the nearly full cup of wine and he took it gingerly, his hand still sore. He tried to will the pain away, masking his face with a grim smile so Aranea wouldn't catch on. Holy shit, though, did it hurt like hell.
Aranea scrutinized him intently, eyes flickering from his face to his injured hand—all because Gladio had called her a 'fucking bitch'. She poured herself a large amount of wine and took a gulp, thankful for the buzz that would surely come over her soon. When she saw Ignis wince again, she motioned to his knuckles. "Let me get you some ice for that."
He rejected the offer. Or tried to. With Aranea, it was always fruitless. She got her way when he denied her offer to find him new glasses, she won the battle when she fed him in the kitchen, and she would surely win this as well. "Oh, that's quite alright. I'll be—"
True to form, Aranea ignored his protests, jumping to her feet from her chair. Cup in hand, she grabbed an old ratty t-shirt from a drawer and knelt in front of the tiny refrigerator, scooping a handful of ice from the built-in freezer into the cloth and twisting it in such a way that inhibited the ice from falling out. When she came back to Ignis, she placed her cup to the side and reached for his injured hand, kneeling before him.
"Do you mind?" she asked quietly, seeking his permission before removing his silver glove, placing the makeshift ice pack on his bare knuckles. At first, Ignis hissed and tried to pull away, but Aranea held his hand tighter and eventually he relaxed, allowing her to take care of him, if just for now.
He felt her fingers of the hand not holding the ice trace lines under his palm and he realized how starved he was for touch and physicality. It felt heavenly to have his hand in hers and he bit back a low moan while she remained gentle with him. It almost made the pain worthwhile.
Almost.
He was brought back to reality when Aranea started to laugh in that way that showed she was bringing up something uncomfortable and possibly embarrassing. "I couldn't help but pick up on this 'wet dream' you apparently had about me. Want to tell me what that's all about?"
Ignis scowled. "Now's not the time, Aranea."
She was surprised at his retort, finding herself sinking lower onto her knees sheepishly. "Oh. Sorry. I was . . . never mind."
As Ignis took another sip of his wine, letting Aranea tend to his hand in forced silence, he heard her sigh. "For real, though, I don't know how you can be friends with such a brute." When she looked up to see Ignis' vacant stare upon her, she shrugged. "Gladio can be a real dick sometimes. You two don't seem like the type to really get along. You're so prim and proper, and he's the quintessential douchebag. I don't understand how you two have the friendship that you do, especially with the prince out of the picture right now. What's still holding you two together?"
Ignis flexed his hand in hers and he mulled her words over while taking another drink. He felt Aranea watching him, waiting for a response. Sure, Noctis was the glue that bonded Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis together, but their friendship was more than that. It always had been—especially his friendship with Gladio.
Swirling the wine in his cup, Ignis smiled as memories flittered through his mind. "Do you know how I came to be Noctis' royal minder?" he started.
Aranea tilted her head and Ignis pulled away, nodding for her to take the ice away if she desired. She stood and walked to the bathroom, placing the shirt with the ice in the sink. She came back, grabbing her own cup of wine before sitting down.
The room was dimly lit, with only one lamp on in the corner by Iris' empty bed. Despite the lack of light, it wasn't hard for Aranea to make out Ignis' subtle facial expressions. She chugged a good portion of her drink, past the halfway point in her cup, and Ignis removed his glasses from his face, feeling around and placing them on the nearby table. Aranea couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face as she studied his handsome features, despite the garish scars, taking another drink to distract herself from staring too long.
"Well? You were saying?" she prompted, wondering what being a Royal Advisor had to do with being friends with Gladiolus Amicitia.
"Ah, yes," he said. "Where to begin . . . well, I was about four when I was pulled from my classroom one day. I was informed that, as the brightest student in the academy, I would no longer be attending my school. In fact, I was to report to the school within the Citadel walls the following week. Of course, at that age, that sounds like an exciting prospect, does it not? Moving to the Citadel? It's practically a fairy tale.
"I remember rushing home, bursting through the door and feeling rather confused when I happened upon my mother in tears with my father by her side. I didn't know it at the time, but they had agreed to relinquish custody in order for me to work alongside the Royal Family. My Uncle—my father's brother—would be there to see that I thrived and flourished, but I don't imagine that made it easy for my parents to let go.
"As it were, that weekend I packed what little I owned and my parents dropped me off at the bottom of the Citadel stairway. I just assumed they'd pick me back up come Monday morning and I'd be back to my regular routine soon enough. But Monday came, then Tuesday, then the rest of the week and I was still at the Citadel. I think, only then did it set in for me that this was my new home and my parents weren't coming back for me." His voice cracked but Ignis quickly recovered by drinking more wine. "Apologies, I don't believe I've ever told anyone my life story, but do feel free to stop me if you find my narrative dull."
Aranea wanted to say something—some words of comfort, maybe—but Ignis continued. "Those first years were grueling, arduous, downright miserable. When I wasn't studying, I was learning to fight. When I wasn't fighting, I was teaching myself other subjects. My only saving grace was finding great comfort in cooking, watching my Uncle as he moved about the kitchen when he had a free moment. Now, all of this came in between the times that I looked after the Prince. Here I was, scarcely independent myself, and I was tasked with taking care of one of the most important children in all of Eos. It was daunting, to say the least."
By this point, both of their glasses were almost empty, so Aranea took the liberty of refilling them to the brim. "Sure, I managed to stay busy most of my days, but it was still so . . ." he paused, searching for the right word as the delicate buzz of the wine started to settle in, making it only a little more difficult to think straight. " . . . life back then was . . . . it was lonely and it hurt."
Aranea nodded, understanding his words all too well. After all, she'd lived the solitary life of a lone wolf for far too long. "I can imagine," she sympathized.
"Naturally, His Highness was a great friend to me, but we were never really friends in the greater sense of the word until much later. But I did meet someone who was going through a lot of what I was going through."
"Gladio?" Aranea guessed.
Ignis hummed as he brought his cup to his lips, allowing the wine to sit on his tongue for a moment before he swallowed. "At first, we were sparring partners and nothing more. I thought he was the schoolyard tyrant and he assumed I was the teacher's pet—though, let's face it, I probably was," he joked, earning a giggle from Aranea. "But, the more we trained together, the more we got to know each other. He invited me to his house on more than one occasion and I learned that he was more than just the boorish boy that I took him for. At the end of the day, he was there for me, no questions asked. I think I really needed that, especially when I had no one else to turn to."
When Aranea said nothing, Ignis leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, cup between both hands. "Gladio means well. Yes, he lacks the capacity to express his anger in healthy ways, but his heart is still pure. When he feels cornered or scared, he begins to lash out. I say this, not to make excuses for his behavior downstairs, but for you to understand that . . ." He shook his head, "he loves his sister dearly. Overly so, if that is even possible. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive his . . . offensive outburst, though I wouldn't blame you if you didn't."
Aranea wasn't sure what to think as Ignis finished his monologue. As he took another drink, she crossed her legs and frowned. "I mean, he has every right to be angry with me," she surprisingly relented, noticing how Ignis threw a curious glance her way. She tilted her head back, her cheeks heated as shame and blame waged a war inside of her. No, she didn't hate Gladio for his reaction, but she did hate herself.
"I trust that you reacted the way you've been taught to. I don't believe you would be so careless with other lives at stake. You're a stronger person than that," Ignis comforted, his accent stronger now that he was a few drinks in.
"No, but I did put Iris in danger by going into battle against those damn daemons instead of falling back like we should have. I don't know what I was thinking and now she's lying in bed and it's all my fault."
Ignis listened as she chugged her drink, figuring she was doing so to keep the horrific thoughts away instead of appreciating the taste of the wine. "Aranea . . ."
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "She'll be ok, right? She has to be."
For once, Ignis didn't know how to answer and he listened as she finished off her cup, slamming it on the table before them. She stood up, mentioning something about opening one more bottle for the both of them and Ignis smiled his consent. Another 'pop' of the cork, the liquid flowing into her cup, and Aranea flopped back into her chair with a soft 'thump'.
Silence.
More silence.
"So . . ." Aranea leaned back, breaking the quiet. "Royal Advisor your entire life."
Ignis noted the subject change and figured, at this point, it was best. What good would it do to linger on Iris' condition right now? So, Ignis went along with it, happy to discuss whatever Aranea wanted to talk about. "Indeed."
"Does that mean you had to go to all of those fancy dinner parties and royal meetings?" she asked, the cynicism practically dripping from her lips.
Ignis disregarded the mocking tone and answered honestly. "When I wasn't tending to His Highness' needs, certainly."
"Didn't that get boring? Always having to get dressed up, parade around, pretending like you gave a fuck about what anyone said to you?"
Ignis rolled his eye at her lack of couth, moving one arm to rest on the back of his chair while he lazily sipped the rest of his wine, only to have his glass refilled once more by Aranea. "You're asking me these questions but, as a ranking official, were you not made to attend any events or galas? No dances?" Ignis questioned with a motion of his hand. By now, the wine had surely taken hold and he was feeling loose and free.
Aranea giggled at the slightly intoxicated look on Ignis' face, eye half closed and a bashful smirk adorning his lips. "Nah, I usually managed to worm my way out of them. Not my thing. Even if I did have to go, I'd stay close to the bar or something. I never was great at the dancing bullshit—never really learned how."
"Ah, I see," Ignis said. "My attendance was mandatory, so it was essential I at least mastered the minimum of what it took to ballroom dance."
"Let me guess—you probably mastered the minimum, and then some?" Aranea teased, prodding him in the arm with a finger. "What didn't you master? Fencing? Chess? Piano lessons?"
Ignis raised an eyebrow and hid a smile in his cup while Aranea leaned back in her chair, groaning aloud. "Oh, of course, you would be a pianist! Of course!"
"Darling, have you not yet learned?" Ignis smirked, sipping the last bit of his wine and setting the cup to the side. "What so ever I choose to study, I make it my mission to excel at it." He fished his phone from his back pocket and handed it to Aranea. "If you could, please go to my music and click the fourth song down on the first playlist."
She took the phone skeptically, her face scrunched in perplexity. "I'm not going to find any dick pics on here, am I?"
Ignis frowned. "First of all, why would there be any pictures—explicit or not—on my music application? Second of all, what sort of man do you take me for that I would have those sorts of photos on my phone?"
"Hey, you never know. I just didn't want any random surprises," she shrugged. "What do you want me to find this song for, anyway? Whatever it is."
As she searched through his phone to his music, pressing play on the fourth song on his playlist, she looked up to see his hand, still without his glove on, held out to hers as a boisterous waltz played from the speakers of the phone. "Because, my dear, I'm going to teach you how to dance."
She clenched the phone a little tighter, this time to her chest. "Oh, hell no. That's not happening. I already told you I don't dance."
"Come now, you wouldn't deny a blind man the chance to dance with a beautiful lady such as yourself, would you?"
"Pulling the 'blind' card? That's low, even for you," she scolded, placing the phone to the side.
"Let's just say it's my trump card. Now, are you going to let me stand here all night? Or will you allow me to lead you in a waltz?"
Still reserved, Aranea held back for a few moments before carefully placing her hand in his. Once standing, he guided her hand to his shoulder and held her other hand within his, pulling her a little closer with his hand in the small of her back. The tempo of the orchestral song picked up and Ignis took the lead, counting their steps out loud and stifling a snicker with every one of Aranea's missteps. There'd be a brief period of gracefulness and then Aranea would ruin it by stepping on Ignis' feet, pulling back too soon, or just something in between.
"This is absolutely hopeless!" she laughed, her fingers digging ever so slightly into the muscle of his shoulder as her feet clumsily knocked against his.
"Just relax," his voice soothed over the upbeat song. "Just follow what I do and you'll catch on soon enough. Stop looking down and look up at me."
She followed his instructions and kept her eyes fixed on his, not even bothering to question how he could tell that she was looking down. He had a keen sense of knowing what was going on around him without the ability to see it, so it was no surprise that he would know that Aranea wasn't looking, eyes forward, while in the midst of their waltz.
Her embarrassed giggling was contagious and Ignis found himself laughing out loud with her. Then, every time Ignis laughed, Aranea's heart thudded in her chest. It was a vicious circle between the two—nonstop giggling, fueled by each other and the copious amounts of red wine they indulged in.
Ignis was right; Aranea eventually found her rhythm and moved in time with him, allowing him to spin and dip her occasionally. He danced with grace and confidence and Aranea lost herself in his arms. But, soon enough, the song ended, fading into a slower, symphonic tune. Aranea started to pull away, assuming that their dance was done, but Ignis held her to him, smiling. "But . . . the song is over."
"I know," he said. "But maybe one more dance won't hurt."
They both stood, still holding each other, waiting for the other to make a move while the violins and cellos played their beautiful melody in the background. Finally relenting, Aranea leaned in, her head resting on Ignis' chest as they both swayed slowly to the song. In that moment, it was only the two of them and no one else in the world. Everything could fall around them and neither one would notice.
Rubbing small circles on her back, Ignis placed his cheek on the top of Aranea's head, closing his eye and savoring this moment. He tried to commit to memory how perfect her muscular, yet slender, frame fit into him. The way her hair, now longer than it had been in their younger years, cascaded down her back. He pictured how maybe the last several years had aged the Commodore and the image he conjured took his breath away.
She was everything he never knew he needed and he needed to tell her.
"You're beautiful," Ignis whispered.
Aranea smirked into his leopard-print shirt, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne. "How do you know? You can't even see me. For all you know, I could have grown to be super hideous or something."
He stopped their dance, shaking his head. "That's impossible."
For a moment, time stopped. Aranea dared to bring her head up, her breath catching in her throat as it looked like Ignis was making direct eye contact with her. He moved his hand from her back to her cheek and she closed her eyes, leaning into his palm. "What the hell are you doing to me, Specs?" she wondered aloud.
At first, he thought maybe she was upset or disappointed. That maybe he'd said or done something wrong. However, she didn't waver from his hand and he could feel her breath on his bare palm. "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean," she replied, tilting her head up to look at him again.
He didn't need his sight to know the look she was giving him. It was obvious by the way she was pressing against him while simultaneously rising slightly on her tiptoes. Maybe words weren't necessary. Using his hand on her cheek to guide him, he followed her lead, closing the gap between them, their lips brushing together in sweet ecstasy.
She tasted like the two bottles of wine they drank. Her lips were soft, much like he imagined time and time again throughout their years of knowing each other. Gods, it was perfect.
She was perfect.
When she pulled him down further to deepen the kiss, he unintentionally moaned into her mouth and he felt her smile in return. He was dizzy and drunk and on cloud nine and was almost sure that, at this point, it was due to the kiss and not the alcohol.
If this was what her kiss did to him, he never wanted to sober up.
It was short lived though as a knock at the door broke them apart.
"Shit," she hissed, jumping back as if she and Ignis had been caught in a compromising situation. "Who is it?"
"Uh . . . It's me. Talcott. Is . . . um . . is Ignis . . . I mean, Mr. Scientia . . . "
Ignis felt Aranea's warmth fade away as she stormed to the door, very upset. She yanked the door open and leaned against the frame, perturbed. "Is this really that important?" he heard her mutter.
"Actually, kinda. Yeah."
Upon hearing this, Ignis carefully navigated around Aranea's room to the door, gently pulling her aside so he could greet Talcott. "Evening, Talcott. What's wrong?"
Talcott shuffled something in his hands. Papers of some sort. "Well, after everything died down and we calmed Gladio, I went back to the truck to grab our books and our things. I found something rather peculiar. Those pages that were missing? Well, not all of them, but a couple of them were on top of the books when I opened the door. Almost like someone had put them there. Just right on top for me to find."
"You mean—"
"Yes, sir. These pages mention Costlemark Tower and make a few allusions to the Izunia legacy. It's as if someone wants us to keep looking and researching."
Ignis felt Talcott pressing a few loose pages into his hands and his mind raced fervently. He nodded curtly at the teenager. "Thank you, Talcott. We can reconvene in the morning to talk more about this. For now, go get some rest."
"But, sir—"
Ignis held a hand up. "There's nothing more we can do right now. It's better if we look at this with fresh eyes come morning," he snorted and Talcott smirked as well. "Well, fresh eyes for you. I'll just pretend to look if that helps any."
Talcott stood up straighter, almost as if he were at attention. "Understood. Just tell me where to be tomorrow and I'll be there."
Before Talcott could turn to leave, Ignis stopped him. "Oh, one more thing. Has there been any word on Iris' condition? I realize not much time has passed, but maybe you've heard something?"
From behind, Ignis heard Aranea inhale nervously and Talcott nodded. "She's still critical, but the medics say with some time, rest, and a few more hi-elixirs, she'll make a full recovery. Cor's down there right now with Gladio, but she'll be ok."
Ignis chuckled from nervous relief. "Fantastic news. I appreciate the word," he thanked while Aranea sighed. Then, Ignis dismissed the teen away for the evening. "Goodnight, Talcott."
As Talcott raised a hand in parting before heading down the hall toward his shared room with the Marshal, Ignis closed the door and returned his attention to Aranea, papers still in his hand. He felt a chill in the air though that wasn't there before. Although he brought good news about Iris—mixed with some strange updates on their hunt for information regarding the Izunia lineage—Talcott had inadvertently ruined their moment.
In the dim room, Aranea leaned against the wall, both hands behind her. "You . . . you know, it's getting late, Ignis, and the wine is making me a little sleepy. Maybe you should go. I know you have a lot to go over, what with your research and all, and I don't want to be the one to keep you. But . . . um . . . thank you. For everything. For sitting with me, talking with me, and for the dance," Aranea whispered, moving around Ignis so that she could get one hand on the doorknob while she rested her head against the door.
Seeking to salvage whatever moment was interrupted, Ignis brought his hand to the back of Aranea's neck, but she was distant again. Cold. Scared. Ignoring her standoffishness, Ignis took a step closer and placed a kiss on her forehead before giving her a small, yet reassuring, smile. "It was my pleasure, Ms. Highwind. Have a good night."
With one more squeeze to the back of her neck, Ignis walked out of the room and into the bright hotel hallway. Reluctantly, Aranea closed the door behind him. She watched his shadow under the crack of the door as it stood a second or two longer, debating whether to leave or stay, before finally making the decision to walk away.
It was subtle, but both of them knew that tonight was the turning point in their relationship.
Author's Note: Whoops! Late update tonight! Finally feeling a million billion times better after being super sick at the beginning of this week. Good news is I took off a few more days this week coming up so yay for long weekends! :)So! How about that little kiss?! Ahhhhh! Don't worry, that's not the end of it. There will be more. We do have some angst coming up next chapter and then after that . . . ;) Well, who knows!
Not too much else to report this week, so I'm off to reply to everyone's comments and reviews and everything since I didn't have time to do that earlier in the week. Once again, you all are the absolute best. I love you more than you know!Also, have a safe and happy Memorial Day tomorrow!