Good Morning, my loves!

Saint Patrick's day continues for these loves.

Thank you to my beta extraordinaire, Fran S. Sunflower, and to DaniDarlingxx for being my pre-reader.

Edward

22:12 GMT

Aberdeen, Scotland

"Dude, what are you doing tonight?"

It's the first thing Jared asks me when I open my flat door. I wave him in with a shrug. "Nothing, why?"

He glares at me. "Dude, it's St. Patrick's Day!" Jared is American like I am. He's sort of a dick, but there is this unspoken rule that you support your countrymen when you're abroad.

"I don't think they really celebrate that shit," I say, glancing at him as I head into the kitchen. I'm in the middle of making nachos. University students keep irregular hours, especially when we have nowhere to be.

"Well fuck that," he says, flopping onto my sofa. I glance at him. "Come down to the pub with me. We'll get drunk, have a great time."

I consider the offer. I've been out drinking quite a bit lately, but really, what else is there to do right now?

"All right, let me finish these," I say, pointing to the oven. Jared sits up, his eyes flickering to the oven.

"What is it?"

"Nachos."

He groans. "Fuck, I miss good food, man." I smile at him. Jared is from New Mexico and constantly complains about the lack of proper Mexican food.

"This isn't legit," I warn him. He waves me off.

"It smells better than any shit here; I'm in."

I nod and pull the tray from the oven. It's just cheese melted over tortilla chips. I have some browned beef that is seasoned on the stovetop, and I pour it on before dumping sour cream and salsa over the tray. I bring it over to the tiny coffee table in front of Jared, going back to the counter for some napkins before I plunk down on the other side of the sofa. We dig in, and it's delicious and tastes like home.

I glance at my phone when it buzzes, and I have to physically stop myself from launching on it. My texts to Bella have been going well, though I fucking panicked sending that stupid duck dick opener. She'd been weirdly into it, though, and has since referred to me as her Duck Dealer. I haven't told her my name, and I don't know if it should worry me how down she is to text a complete stranger. I tap the screen and see it's a text from my mom. I let out a breath and turn back to the nachos.

"So," Jared says between a mouthful of chips. "You sticking it out here?"

I look at him and shrug. "That's the plan," I hedge. He nods. "You?"

"Man, I ain't got nothing to go back to," he shakes his head, his face sour. Jared is getting his degree in an international business program on purpose. He doesn't want to go back to the U.S. He's made that clear since day one.

"Yeah," I say quietly. I do have something to go back to, though. When I moved to Scotland, it had been my intention to stay in Europe, at least through my Ph.D. I'd planned on being here for at least the next five years.

Now, I'm not even sure I'll be here by the end of the month. I glance at my phone again as the thought hits me. Right now, it felt impossible to predict even the next hour of my life, let alone month. Who knew what I was in for?

In my experience, the only ones who cared about Saint Patrick's day in Scotland were Americans or people looking to get drunk.

I know everyone is dying to have Edward come back to the states. Don't worry my dears, he's in good hands.

See you loves tomorrow for some Assbella!