Hello! Thank you to those who commented on the first chapter, it made me pick up this one faster to post it ;)
Anyways, like I said, this is a First-Person fic and this Elena's POV. We will always be rotating between the two of them, but I will always let you know in the beginning notes just in case.
Hope you like it!
ELENA POV
The New York-Presbyterian Hospital is an incredibly white, enormous building located on 5141 Broadway, at 220th Street. Proudly to be number four in the Nation, it has one of the best cancer treatments programs in the country and it's also your best bet if you ever need to find an efficient emergency. Hence why it's no surprise that after a massive storm, we all doctors are running around the corridors like crazy because of the huge number of patients coming. Yes, I, Elena Gilbert, am one of those lucky doctors.
It is universally acknowledged that straight A's don't always equal successful careers, though in my case it does since I've got the dream job. I've lived my intern hell here as well; now I wear the long coat of a resident who's just three years away from being an attending. And, even if I'm eager to be a full-time pediatrician, there's nothing else I would rather be feeling at the moment than the thrill of these days when I can't even chat with any of my friends for more than two seconds before the emergency doors open and we are all hearing our interns fighting over the most screw up patients.
Instead, we talk while carrying the wounded in wheelchairs.
I'm taking a fifty-eight woman to the surgery hall. Tyler Lockwood, the one of my interns who has everything he needs to pursue the trauma speciality in the future, is right behind me, almost jumping like a happy puppy because I will manage to take him to watch closely the surgery we are performing in a few. And, on the other side of me, the most flirtatious of all the Mikaelsons, is carrying another wheelchair where the nineteen grandson of my patient is, looking too frightened to mind the fact his driver can't shut up.
— Cupcake, please, I can't show up alone. — Kol begs, with his cute expecting eyes that, unfortunately, never fails to work, even on the girl who has known him since our first period in college.
I sigh. — Honestly, I don't know why you can't bring one of the girls or boys you sleep with.
— Duh. They aren't classy enough to be my arm candy. — He rolls his eyes, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. And, with a smirk, he adds mischievously. — Plus, Rebekah hates you, and I love to piss off my sister by taking someone who tops her, looking way much sexier in a night dress.
— If, and I'm emphasizing the "if" here, Kol, I get to go to the mall with Bonnie… — Then I glance at him, and the asshole is giving a smug smile. Of course, I should have expected this. — You already bought my dress, haven't you?
Kol takes his arms off the wheelchair for a second to make a surrender gesture, and he is pouting adorably. — You're going to love it. — He promises. — It's all blue, very Cinderella-ish, because Nik might be a douche, but he's a douche with the finest taste.
I can't argue with that either. I've known Niklaus, and all Kol's brothers, for that matter, since the first party he dragged me to, when we had just met five hours before that, and the blonde one with the strongest british accent of them all is, most definitely, the man you could trust with the task of even choosing a wedding dress. There wasn't a single one he gave me that it didn't make me look like a princess.
And, trust me, you wouldn't be wondering why I let my friends' brothers buy me expensive clothes if you knew how ridiculously rich they are. His family practically owns Manhattan and, I'm pretty sure, a lot of other parts of the whole state of New York. Their parties are mostly hosted in their mother's mansion that looks very much like a Disney castle, no kidding; and given the fact they are the most eligible bachelors dancing around, is not a surprise that the siblings are always fighting to see which will bring the prettiest date.
Being the regular arm candy of an Original boy — because, hey, not satisfied with all the titles they have, their family is the oldest one from here, too, which also puts them in the position of the founders of New York City — does comes with a certain perk, to put it like that not to offend my friend by calling disadvantage, so I am, every now and then, on the cover of famous newspapers and gossip blogs, referred as "Kol Mikaelson's long-time girlfriend, Elena Gilbert, a talent residence student on the Presbytherian. When will the love birds finally get married?"
Because of that I once had explained to a nurse that me and Kol were not sleeping together or in any kind of relationship whatsoever, so she could go out with him without the risk of being photographed by paparazzi who would call her a slut. I could have also told her that this wouldn't happen, since they are powerful enough to control anything that appears on the media, but that wouldn't have helped my friend with his one-night stand.
Eventually, I sighed in defeat, giving Kol the reply he knew he would get even before asking me. — It better be a beautiful dress because I'm not walking in a room with Katherine Pierce and Rebekah Mikaleson if I'm not rocking the most fairytale-ish of them all.
Kol winked with his boyish smile. — Please, do you think I would let my girlfriend look like anything less than a muse who inspires poets and singers to make art about her?
That boy is a charmer, I will give him that. — Then, you can pick me up in three weeks.
— Oh, cupcake, what would I do without you? — He sang-song before turning to the opposite corridor I was heading to, blowing me a kiss.
And my intern was watching me very suspiciously.
Again, I can't blame him, being friends with Kol involves a whole lot of teasing, cheek kisses and, in my case, attendances to fancy balls, so it makes perfect sense why everyone thinks we have something. Especially when I'm ex-boyfriend works in another hospital and hates dancing too much to be ever spotted with me anywhere else other than the local bars. Yes, Matt was always jealous of my friendship with Kol and he hated that I never refused his parties invitations, but, why would I stop talking with the guy who works with me and had been part of my life since I was nothing less than a college student? Also, who in their right mind wouldn't want to go to the Original events, turning them down to a night out drinking in a cheap bar because he was also jealous of Damon and never wanted to hang out at the Grill.
Well, given the fact we just broke up because he was screwing a nurse, I'm happy that I never bailed on Kol because of him.
I laugh at Tyler's curious expression. — I can assure you that we are just friends.
He shrugs. — Hey, it's none of my business.
— Have you ever met his siblings? — I ask, and we are now in the hospital room reserved to prepare the patients for the surgeries.
— The Originals? — He questions, I nod. — I can't say that I have. Except for the Aladdin we work with.
I let out a laugh, helping the old lady to sit on the bed so Tyler can do his thing. — He will love the nickname. — I tell him, handing over the two softest pillows I could find in the closet for him to put behind the patient's head; it's a long busy night, the surgery will happen, but even in a hospital like these you need to wait a little bit. — Well, the oldest, Elijah, teaches law at NYU by day while working as an architect during the weekend.
— At night he attends parties? — Tyler asks me, clearly having fun and purposely ignoring how the patient seems to be touching his chest more than necessary.
— Yeah, but he is also a musician.
He raises an eyebrow. — Fuck.
— The guy is a workaholic. — I agree, knowing I wasn't that distant from becoming one myself if I didn't end up with the most hyped students of campus. No, that does not include Bonnie because we all need a girl who pushes us in the right direction, don't we?
After having finished with the lady, Tyler collapses at the sofa in the corner of the room, and I do the same, enjoying the little time we have before someone pages us to the OR. The other interns were sent to prepare the operating room since they weren't as excited as Tyler with the idea of spending their nights at the emergency room.
Tyler nods for me to continue, and I do. — The second in line, Klaus, is an artist, he is the most extraordinary painter I've ever met. Rebekah plans events, which means she is always competing with Caroline Forbes, who happens to be the girlfriend of my best friend's brother.
— Hell, Elena, how many celebrities do you know? — He is certainly looking at me like I own the keys to paradise, and since I'm friends with the Originals and get to eat Damon's food whenever I want, I dare say I do have.
I bit my lip. — Hm, do you know the Grill?
— If I know the most renowned bar-restaurant I had never got a chance to go since I move 'in here because it's too fucking expensive for my intern salary?
— My best friend is the owner.
His jaws drop. — No shit!
— Caroline is, actually, Stefan Salvatore's girlfriend. — I confirm. — And, if you think me and Kol look like a couple, then you should see how Damon and I are with one another.
— It's no surprise that Donovan couldn't handle the competition. — He jokes, but at the moment he sees the smile fading out of my face, his playful expression changes to an apologetic one. — I'm sorry. He has become my best friend, but even I can't deny he was a first class jackass with you.
I give him a sincere smile, because it isn't his fault, and I would never blame him for being friends with Matt. Apparently, they hated each other in high school with the whole jock competition thing, but bonded instantly at college. Besides, Tyler and I are more coworkers than friends, or he would have known all my rich bad boys friends by now.
And, to take him out of his misery and show that I'm in no way upsted about Matt, I offer what I was already planning to. — Do you want to come over to the Grill after our shift?
— Are you serious?
— Yeah. — And I'm already smiling with the idea of spending the rest of the night talking about anything and everything with my best friend while eating his divine food. — Damon will let you drink and eat almost freely if I introduce you as my friend. He has this whole bad boy thing going on, and don't tell him I told you that, — My index finger points threateningly at him. — but it's all fake. He's the kindest person I've ever met and you will think you're eating at the Valhalla, he cooks like he has drunk the chef version of the Kvasir mead.
Tyler laughs. — And you are so not dating the guy.
Before I get the chance to deny, both of our pages bip, followed by the sight of the other interns showing up at the hall to tell us it's all settling down for the surgery. And, because I have such a soft spot in my heart for the younger who won't be accompanying me at the OR, I announce we are all drinking at the Grill tonight and I'm paying. Tyler just laughs even more, since now he knows that by that I mean the Salvatore himself will give us a VIP card.
By the time I show up at the Grill, a wide smile is painted all over Damon's face. And, after my purse is left on the balcony, he is already standing in front of me with his arms open.
I hug him so automatically as if my body can't seem to have any other path to take. — You didn't tell me you were coming, Lainey. — As a reflex he does the same, pulling me tightly to his embrace, where I feel home already. And I can't help my grin either because he is the only one who calls me that and I have always loved it when he does.
We drift apart for an inch, but my hands are still resting in his arms. — What, do you have plans for tonight, bad boy?
He shakes his head, smiling. — You are my only plan, ever.
— I'm glad to hear, because… — I step outside to reveal the five faces who are now staring at us just as amused as Tyler was earlier; or is, since he's also one of those faces.
Damon scans the kids wearing short white coats, then his gaze meets mine again. — So, this is your new gang?
— Yeap. — I popped the "p", one of his many habits I acquired during the years.
— Alright, — He stretches his arms to pick up a bottle of whiskey behind the courtner, opens it, announcing happily as a cool uncle who is giving candies at Halloween, as the alcohol drips on the wood. — Everything is on me tonight!
His words are followed by the celebration of my interns who are now walking towards the pool table. Damon nods to Rose to follow them so she can personally get what they want, his eyes squinting to the black-haired boy still standing next to me.
I roll my eyes, introducing them. — This is Tyler Lockwood. — I said, ignoring how he instantly wore his bad cop approach. — He's my guy this year, so you must treat him nicely.
Damon changes to his cute kicked puppy expression to look at me. — I thought I was your guy. — He takes his hand to his heart dramatically. — I'm deeply hurt, Lainey.
— You're my everything. — I tell him, because even though I'm just playing around with him it is true. — But… — I let him go to place a hand on Tyler's shoulder. — He's the one who helps clean my patients' vomits and brings me coffee without me asking for it.
Damon steps closer to Tyler, taking off my hand from the boy's shoulder to place both of his on it. — You're not hitting on my girl by any chance, are you?
Tyler's face goes palid, he doesn't even dare to look at me, his eyes are locked on Damon's, and he's mumbling an apology. — No, man, I swear, I.
Then, my best friend cracks up laughing, and I give my own apologetic look at Tyler that's much more light than the one he gave me at the hospital. Damon's hands are on the bottle of whisky he had just opened, he places it against Tyler's chest, having way too much fun with the "Help me" board that it's pinned on him. — If you're Elena's guy, then you're my guy here, too. — He tells him, much more friendly. — The hot bartender is Rose, — He glances over his friend, now back at the bar, who winks flirtatiously at Tyler. — You are allowed to sleep with her, but I don't promise she will keep bringing the booze if you screw up. Have a nice time tonight.
Stumbling clumsily, he murms a thanks, nods at me, and with the bottle of whisky in his hands, he turns around to go meet his friends.
— You didn't need to scare him, you know. — I say softly, knowing it won't make a difference because the same ritual repeats itself every year ever since I was an intern and brought my first colleagues and co-workers to his bar. The difference was that, at the time, he almost kicked Kol out because his tricks didn't work on him. They already knew each other because Damon was good friends with Klaus since highschool and, apparently, he and Stefan used to go on those trips along with the Mikaelsons every five years, meaning that my Original boy knew how to deal way too well with my best friends threats.
— What would be the fun if I didn't? — Damon asks as if I was scolding him for having a good time, which is not that far from the truth.
And I do punch his chest, but I also hug him once more, because, god, it's been a tough day. It doesn't matter how fun covering for the trauma doctors who are sick is, every single one of the bones in my body is aching, so if there's one thing I need right now is to feel my best friend's arms around me while he kisses the top of my head.
Damon smells like alcohol, bourbon, to be more precise, even though his secretly favorite drink is wine. He smells like danger just to keep his villain stereotype intatched; strawberry chantilly because he spends all day in the kitchen; and that Creeds Spice & Wood man perfume 'cause he is that rich. Every time he hugs me I get these warming feelings, the ones I only have when I'm touching the soft wet sand after a rainy day, and it's like I'm hugging the clouds. It's my safest comfort place in the world, and it's the one I never want to leave.
Since Rose got it all covered with my gang of interns, and especially because Damon always knows exactly what I need, he takes my hand and guides me to the rooftop. It's the quietest of all places, full with inside plants, very small trees, a whole bunch of flowers and a few candles lighting here and there. It's moon-darked, but astonishingly beautiful; the only part of the Grill that no one is allowed to come here except for me. And because he knows that it's my calming spot, Damon brings me up here whenever I have a stressful day.
I'm resting my head on his shoulder, and we are sitting closely on this comfortable couch that he bought here for us on the very first day I was introduced to his secret place. He argued that a girl shouldn't be standing or sitting on the floor like he was used to. It's funny 'cause it was just a few weeks after we met, and yet, he was already opening the deepest parts of his soul to me. But, then again, I told him about my parents' car crash on the day we were first alone in college, even if it does take me ages to talk about with anyone else, when I do.
— A penny for your thoughts. — Damon whispers playfully in my ear.
He pulls up the blankets that are also always waiting for us here, to cover me as I shiver in a reaction to the cold wind that kisses our faces. I'm smiling when I answer. — I'm just thinking about when you first brought me here. — And I know he's grinning, too, even though I can't see it. — Or when I got into college this day, but every class was empty 'cause it had all been cancelled since the freshman kids compelled the teachers to, just so they would throw his huge party at campus.
— Not every class was empty. — He clarifies, remembering it all with me.
— Sure they were. — I correct him, tapping a finger in his chest. — Then, I went to smoke on the rooftop of the main building, and the guy who had saved me for humiliation when I dropped all my books in class two weeks ago was there to hit on me.
Damon laughs. — And you weren't just smoking. It was a fucking hookah. I was speechless with the smoke rings you were blowing on my face.
— The fact that we got high that night probably explains why I told you my life story.
— Nah, — He teases, but the words that came out are truly the most accurate I had ever heard. — We just clicked, that's all.
Our fingers are interlocked together, his thumb trying to catch mine while we laugh softly. Eventually, he does, and I take his pale hand to my mouth, kissing the back of it. — It's cold. — I notice.
Damon sucks dry for some reason I can't quite figure out yet. He doesn't say anything, though, just holds my hand once more, traveling them to beneath the blankets. And, all the sudden, all my problems vanished. There are no complicated ex-boyfriends, no research waiting for me at home, no little brother secretly wanting to move to another country, no rough shifts at the hospital, nothing. It's just me and Damon, our interlaced fingers and the breeze of the wind making us laugh as we cover our heads trying to feel warmer.
I am warmer, though, because I always am when I'm on his arms. And it is only when I have fallen asleep wrapped messly around his body that my dreams tell me the reason why he was blushing when I kiss his hand. Because I'm watching that final scene from Pride and Prejudice in front of me, but it is me holding Damon's hands instead, not Lizzie with Mr. Darcy, and it's our forehead pressed together.
When the sunlight wakes me up on the next day, I'm resting in Damon's chest, while he's sleeping quietly. From all the days we have cuddled here, and it has been many, he always wakes after me. Well, except for this day when I drag him up here to watch a meteor shower.
He had set up the whole thing perfectly, cooked a night lunch for us and turned on this soft ballad from the 80s that, even though he hates it, he's always listening with me because he knows how much I love it. But, at the moment those shooting stars started to fall, a light in the sky announced the storm.
The thousands drops of rain quickly became a huge ocean that watered everything he prepared. It broke my heart that it was supposed to be our day, after the rough week of finals we both had in college, so when he tried to talk me out of it, declaring that it was time to abandon the ship, I shook my head and said. — No, wait, just give a second. It will clear up.
Of course it didn't. But, looking back now, I'm happy with how things turned out. Yes, we got soaked, Damon had to order Chinese food because the power went off and there was no way he could cook anything to replace the pancakes that were floating in the rain now, and I didn't get to watch the stars. But, I got to dance in the rain with my best friend, while he pulled me from the ground spinning me around.
— You are insane, Damon Salvatore. — I screamed above the rain, laughing like crazy in his arms.
He laughed loudly, screaming back. — Are you just getting that now?
And he spinned me again.
Like most of the other days we slept together on the rooftop, Damon woke up just a few seconds after I had untangled myself from his arms. He squinted his eyes as the sun greeted him with its light and groaned. — What time is it?
His eyes searched for his leather jacket that was on the floor next to the blankets. This happens a lot, too. Usually the night is cold, which forces us to hide ourselves in the sheets, but, within the hours that passes by, it gets warmer and warmer, making us kick the covers away.
I look over at my phone's screen. — It's almost six. — Damon groans again, because, different from the days when we were two kids in college, now he has two jobs, one of them consisting in showing up at the clinic to his appointments. — And even though I only need to be at NYU in two hours, — I say, complaining about my own full schedule. — I would really like to eat something before heading off.
Damon runs his fingers through his hair, his usual smirk making the first appearance of the day when he teases. — Oh, do you?
— Hm-hm. — I bit my lip, trying to hold back a smile. — And I happen to have this friend who is an amazing chef.
He rolls his eyes before grabbing me by my right hand; and, without a warning, he pulls me to his lap. I can't hold back anything else anymore, I'm already giggling happily.
My hands go to his hair, ruffling it, then fixing it the mess as much as I can.
— He will make you pancakes after a shower, okay? — Damon says to me, doing the same thing with my rebel locks and putting them behind my ear.
I smile, gazing at his ocean eyes. — Thank you. For everything, Damon. Really.
He winks at me. — And once again the day is saved by Damon Salvatore.
— Did you just quote the Powerpuff Girls? — I ask, incredulously.
Damon shrugs, but doesn't answer. Instead, he kisses me on the cheeks, and the next thing I know, he is carrying me in bridal style to the inside of the Grill.
He is the best friend in the whole world.
And the thing about Damon, one of the reasons why he earns the title, is that he was the one who showed me what it was like to feel alive again. When my parents died, I had forced myself to become an adult, to at least act like one, so I could take the responsibility over Jeremy. Yes, Jenna was always around, but I felt like I needed to be there for my little brother, especially when he turned out to be such a troubled kid. At some point, I had stopped living it all together, my life was summoned in taking care of him, studying to have good grades and work so we wouldn't be lost if something happened. It was like all the youth that my soul was made of had been sucked out of my body, ripped it out of me. Meeting Kol and Bonnie did help a lot, but it was only with Damon that I felt comfortable enough to free myself again.
Still baffles me how strange it was that I felt instantly safe to share anything with him at the moment those piercing blue eyes stared at me, but I suppose we are really twin flames, soulmates, nakama or whatever name you might call. What matters is that he pulled me out of the shell in which I had been hiding back then, he did even pull my brother out of the pit he had thrown himself in, and, more importantly, he has been saving me ever since.
After his calendar reminded him he had three appointments that morning and needed to be at his clinic by 10 a.m., I tried to tell Damon I would be fine with eating breakfast somewhere else and I had only joked about it since this used to be one his laziest mornings. But, that boy is as stubborn as me and he wouldn't take a "no" for an answer. So, he drove us to his place to cook for me, not only pancakes, but crepes as well, all of them tasting as divine as I knew they would.
Damon's apartment is very classic with a retro cozy decoration that surprised me the first time I came in here. I guess I would have always pictured him for the ones who would have a modern bachelor apartment with a pool and foosball tables. But, he already did have those at the Grill anyways, so instead, his living room was beautifully filled with wooden furniture, mixed with some red ones, including the sofa, arm chairs and curtains, while the walls were painted in a medium shade of yellow. And, instead of games around, he had a lot of bookshelves, like a lot, which always make me feel like I'm the Beauty walking in the Beast huge library since he has the first editions of many of my favorite books there. Yes, I did tell him that, and it made him laugh, of course, then I argued that it wasn't the best choice since he was too pretty to be the Beast.
I smile at the vampire teeth he did with chantilly in the made-up face of my pancake. He caught me reading Twilight once, but ever since he teases me about it. And he did buy me Bram Stoker's Dracula right after to introduce the real vampire with actual fangs.
— Are you sure I'm not holding you up from anything? — I ask when he taps something on his phone.
Damon sighs, pulling the mobile aside. — It's still eight a.m., Lainey. Relax. I have plenty of time to kill since you're such an annoying morning person.
— Not by choice.
— How's your research at NYU going? — He asks, picking up another crepe to himself.
I smile. — Actually, I could use your help with that.
He raises a brow. — Yeah?
— Hm-hm. — I nod, moaning as I take another bite from my pancake. I swear, it is this good. Damon smiles, he knows I had never been shy about anything, especially around him. — The third chapter of my thesis, the one I'm working on right now, is supposed to be about how the emotional state of the child and the healthiness of their home affects their recovery process. Shane suggested I should look for a therapist or anyone in the psychological field to discuss the matter, so… — I trail off with a smile.
Damon laughs. — Yeah, you can use me for that, too.
— It's so good to have a best friend that saves my day in so many ways. — I wink at him.
He winks back. — But, if you ever need to interview messed up kids, don't forget that you also happen to have your own troubled teenager at home.
— Jeremy is grown up now. — Damon gives me a look, and I stand up for my brother immediately. — He is! Although, sometimes I miss when he was younger.
— Oh-oh. What bad extracurricular activities did Little Gilbert get himself into now?
I sigh. — He wants to move to Paris.
Damon's eyes wide open. — To Paris?
— He got this great scholarship at an art-school there. — I explained. Jeremy got the acceptance letter last week. It brought this huge smile to his face when he read it, a smile that faded at the second he had to tell me where it was.
— And he wants to go, doesn't he?
I nod. — It's what he loves the most.
— But, you're worried. — He says what has been implied all along. Because, of course, Damon can know all my fears without me needing to verbalize any of them, so he just nods with understanding before comforting me in a way that only he can. — I get it, he's your little brother and he went through hell countless times. However, the kid had been stable for more than a year now. I can have you flying to Paris any time you want to visit him if you freak out. But, — I smile because even though he is using a playful tone I know he really means it. — I really think he will be alright.
— I know he will. — I tell him, even if it is the first time I actually feel it, I have always known.
Damon smiles kindly at me, and I'm fighting against the impulse of saying he is saving my day again just so I won't boost his ego that much. Then, I take another bite of my pancake, letting out another moan, and he chuckles. Great, so much for not making him cockier.
His alarm goes off again, warning he needs to go, and before he apologizes I shut him up with my hand. — Don't worry, I need to pick up some stuff at my loft before going to NYU.
— 'Kay. I'm drivin' you, though. — He takes his plates to the dishes, starting to wash, and he doesn't have to tell me to not speed up the eating since I'm already finished. I tell him to go change, pick up his stuff or whatever he needs that I will put everything in place because I do know his apartment as well as I know my own.
Damon is back five minutes later, wearing one of his formal outfits and carrying a folder between his arms. He turns the light off, guiding me to the parking lot where his blue Camaro is waiting for us. I text my brother on the way home to let him know I'm taking a few crepes Damon cooked so he won't end up eating some crap heated in the microwave. Then, I emailed Shane confirming our meeting, adding that the mission of finding a therapist to help worked just fine.
And, suddenly, Damon's voice calls me back to reality, pushing me away from my thoughts about how I will make sure my brother is eating healthy if he does end up going to Paris since he will be in another continent. — I dreamt about you. — His voice is low, almost like a whisper, and he doesn't take his eyes off the road to speak, but I hear it anyway. — About that day we danced in the rain on my rooftop.
His comment takes me a bit off guard for some reason I can't shake. And it doesn't make any sense because we are always saying this stuff to each other, we were even reminiscing about those days yesterday night. Yet, there's something about his voice that gives that same feeling I had when he blushed over the unconscious recreation of that Pride and Prejudice scene I did.
— Funny 'cause I was just thinking about it this morning. — I tell him, honestly; because this is Damon and he shouldn't be insecure about anything with me, not ever.
He turns to be with a grin that reaches his eyes and goes from ear to ear. And he doesn't say anything, but I smile back, happy that whatever negative thoughts that were crossing his mind and would probably haunt him for hours if my answer was any other are not there anymore. I guess I just saved his day, too, after all.
So? Any thoughts? I would love to hear what you guys are thinking! Have a nice week, byeee!