When Darcy returned to the hospital wing, he found Bingley sitting up with Phoebe Weasley. Jane and Elizabeth were both asleep, Jane's arms still wrapped protectively around her sister.
"Well, Darcy?" Bingley asked lowly, breaking from his conversation with Phoebe.
"I've written a statement. Elizabeth will be asked to write her own, I am sure. It's in Dumbledore's hands now," Darcy answered. He stepped closer to the bed so as to inspect Elizabeth more carefully. She looked far from at peace, but she was indeed sleeping, and he satisfied himself with the knowledge that sleep was probably one of the best things for her, at present. He drew a chair with his wand and settled with Bingley and Phoebe.
"Is the attack already common knowledge?" Darcy asked concernedly after trying to think of a reason to Phoebe's presence.
Phoebe shook her head. "I was here with Julian," she said. "He broke his arm at practice. I didn't think Lizzy would appreciate more people being around her, so I stayed behind the curtain. It was a difficult thing to do. If it hadn't been for Julian holding my hand, I don't think I would have succeeded."
"Speaking of people becoming knowledgeable," said Bingley, rising from his seat, "I think the rest of the Bennets ought to be informed, don't you?"
Phoebe sighed heavily and started getting to her feet. "I'll tell Lydia," she offered.
"Professor McGonagall is still awake, I'm sure," said Bingley, gently pushing Phoebe back into her chair. "I don't think she would object to fetching Lydia for me. And I would not be surprised to find Mary wandering the halls right now, anxiously looking for answers. I doubt she is unaware of the high emotions of her sisters," he said, glancing at his fiancée and Elizabeth. "No, Phoebe, stay. Julian may yet require your assistance."
Bingley clapped Darcy comfortingly on the shoulder on his way out.
"I knew I should have stayed back," Phoebe breathed, staring blankly in the direction of the slumbering Bennets.
"You were looking after your brother," said Darcy, running a hand over his face. He was exhausted, but knew it would be pointless to try to sleep. "I hardly think you could be called negligent."
"Jo, Zebulon, and I promised we wouldn't leave her by herself," Phoebe continued, seeming not to have heard Darcy. Her eyes finally focused and she turned to look at Darcy. "It was Malfoy, wasn't it?"
Darcy sighed and nodded, setting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.
"Merlin's beard," Phoebe muttered. "We'd been trying so hard to keep him away!"
Darcy exposed his eyes to look at Phoebe with furrowed brows.
"Do you really think you're the only one that noticed Malfoy's hatred and thought he might act on it?" Phoebe asked shrewdly.
"Perhaps we should have coordinated," Darcy said, bowing his head to run his hands through his hair.
"Well, Zebulon wasn't sure if we could trust you or not," Phoebe answered, only half teasing. "He'll be pleased to know we can, I'm sure."
Darcy allowed himself a mirthless chuckle as he recalled his most notable interaction with Zebulon.
"What were you really doing out on the grounds, Darcy?" Phoebe asked after a few moments of quiet.
Darcy only raised an eyebrow in response.
"I thought so," said Phoebe with a sage nod. "Well, if you're not going to allow me to blame myself, I won't allow you to blame yourself. Let's agree to let Malfoy have all the blame, shall we?"
Darcy felt himself smile. He had never truly interacted with Phoebe, only observed her with Elizabeth, but he found himself rather enjoying her conversation. Perhaps he could enlist her help, given enough time to prove himself to her, first. "I will certainly let him have the chief of it," he said.
"Not the chief of it," said Phoebe firmly, "all of it.
"I can't wait to write my papa about this," Phoebe said, suddenly wistful. "He tries to hide it, but I know he hates Old Mr. Malfoy's guts. He'll be tickled to hear that Mr. Malfoy the younger will be branded a criminal."
Darcy released a true laugh this time, though he was careful to keep it quiet so he would not wake any occupants of the wing.
"You should go get some sleep, Darcy," Phoebe suggested after a few minutes of companionable silence.
Darcy breathed heavily through his nose and shook his head. "I couldn't possibly. Not after tonight."
Phoebe studied Darcy intently for several moments as he stared in Elizabeth's direction. "You really care for her, don't you?"
Darcy swallowed with difficulty and nodded.
Phoebe sighed and made a show of straightening her robes after rising from her seat. "Well, I wish you the best of luck, then. If it's any consolation, I don't think she hates you quite as much as she did before break," she said with a wink.
Darcy's first instinct was to throw up his defensive mask, preventing Phoebe from reading his true thoughts. After so much struggle, however, he decided it may very well be worth it to show his true feelings to someone without it being explicitly demanded. He looked to Phoebe with hope-filled eyes.
Phoebe smiled gently at Darcy, then announced she intended to check on Julian one more time before retiring to Gryffindor Tower. Bingley might tell Lydia of what happened, but she claimed responsibility for informing Josephine and Zebulon, as well as managing any speculation that would start the moment Elizabeth's absence was noted.
Darcy lost track of time. His thoughts vacillated mercilessly between the hope inspired by Elizabeth allowing him to carry her and the deep-seated fear he had felt upon sighting her out on the grounds. What would he have done if Malfoy had succeeded in permanently harming, or even killing, Elizabeth? The thought of Wickham prowling about, also seeking to harm her, caused his chest to painfully constrict. He so desperately wanted to protect her, to help her. How could he make her see reason and let him?
"Darcy!" said Bingley's voice insistently, as if he had already tried calling several times.
Darcy started and put a hand to his chest, feeling his heart thunder against his palm. "How did they take it?" he asked after a moment. He had hoped his pulse would start to calm, but he had no such luck. His chest continued to physically ache, and he began to rub at his sternum in hopes of some relief.
"Kitty wanted to come to the hospital wing immediately," said Bingley fondly. "I managed to convince her to stay in the dormitories now, but she is adamant she will stay with Lizzy tomorrow night.
"Lydia was furious, as I'm sure you can imagine. I'm lucky I ran into Mary on my way to ask for McGonagall's help fetching the girl. Mary managed to calm Lydia just enough to get her to stay in Gryffindor Tower and promised me she would see to it Lydia did not have a chance to try anything stupid against Malfoy."
"You told them it was Malfoy?" Darcy raged at a whisper.
"No," said Bingley, unruffled by Darcy's energetic response. "Lydia simply assumed he tried to finish the job he started at that Quidditch match."
"And what about Mary?" Darcy asked, beginning to pace. The tension in his chest pervaded, and he found he could no longer sit still.
"She is upset, of course," said Bingley. "She told me she would like nothing better than to rip into Malfoy, but knows her sisters need her, at present, and will fulfill her obligations."
"Smart girl," Darcy muttered, continuing his strides back and forth.
Bingley watched his friend for a few moments before stepping into his path.
"Pray, get out of my way, Bingley," said Darcy distractedly. "I am not in a mood, at present, to be trifled with."
Bingley set his hands firmly on Darcy's shoulder and waited until his friend finally looked up. "You did everything you could, Darcy. She is safe. She will be well."
"This time," Darcy bit out. "What about the next? You and I know Malfoy too well to think this is over. And then there's the matter of Wickham. And her ridiculous parents. Can she have no relief?"
Bingley shook Darcy slightly. "You, Fitzwilliam Darcy, need to stop trying to be delicate and simply dive in. Get your hands dirty. Get to the bottom of this. We'll all be happier for it."
"She doesn't want – "
"What she wants, Darcy, is the same as any of us want," Bingley interrupted. "To be wanted and to be happy. Love and safety. Consider all she's been dealing with. Do you think she feels she has much of any of those, at present?"
Darcy considered his friend's words, but felt he was still missing part of the puzzle.
"Lizzy doesn't speak of it often, and likely because she doesn't even realize she's doing it, but Jane notices," Bingley continued. "Lizzy behaves as she does, pushing help away, because she has become accustomed to having to look out for herself and for her sisters. She has not had anyone to lean on for assistance except Jane."
"And yet Jane accepts your help readily enough," Darcy said bitterly.
"Jane will admit she has not become as hardened as Lizzy because she has been treated with more deference by their mother," said Bingley. "She does not at all like that Mrs. Bennet will constantly compare Lizzy to her, but learned long ago that it was in everyone's best interest not to agitate Mrs. Bennet further by defending her 'bluestocking, hoyden of a sister that can't maintain her own tongue and shall surely never catch a husband.'"
The tightness in Darcy's chest gave way to rage and he felt his nails digging into his palms. At that moment, he very dearly wished to have a duel with Mrs. Bennet.
"We know what kind of man their father is," said Bingley, tightening his grip on Darcy's shoulders to keep his friend from storming away, "and we know what kind of woman their mother is. All Lizzy's seen has been callousness or an effort to control. Darcy, I don't think that Lizzy knows what it is to be lovingly and authentically protected."
The world suddenly seemed to make a great deal more sense. Darcy had figured out before that Elizabeth wanted control over her life, and he could comprehend that well enough. But now, thanks to Bingley's insight, he was able to see that insecurity and fear ruled over Elizabeth more than he had ever realized, and certainly more than she would willingly admit. With that in mind, he thought he just might have a pathway forward. Finally.
"Bingley, you brilliant man," Darcy said, reaching his own hands up to grip Bingley's shoulders. "When did you become so wise?"
"Perhaps I have always been so, and it just took you being properly humbled by a beautiful woman to notice," Bingley said teasingly.
Darcy grinned, then released his friend and stepped away. He glanced at a clock. "You ought to get Jane back to the Hufflepuff common room before people notice she's missing."
"And you?" Bingley asked.
"I'm not letting Elizabeth out of my sight," said Darcy firmly. "Not until Malfoy's been dealt with."
"God be with you, man," Bingley laughed. "I hope you don't think all will be smooth sailing now, thanks to your epiphany."
"No, I'm not so foolish," Darcy answered, unable to contain a smile. "I must start trying to help her understand what it is to be wanted and safe at some point, however. I might as well jump in with both feet."
Bingley grinned at Darcy once more before making his way to Jane and gently shaking her shoulder. It took some convincing, but he did manage to get her to leave with him.
Darcy made his way to the shelves Pomfrey kept stocked with reference materials and grabbed a book on advanced potions, then seated himself at Elizabeth's bedside and settled himself as comfortably as he could manage.
The sun had started to rise when Elizabeth stirred. "Jane?" she said sleepily.
"Your sister is, by now, preparing for the day and strategizing how to avoid your plight becoming the most interesting topic to be discussed in the halls," said Darcy. He kept his eyes on the potions book he had been sifting through. Though he did very much wish to see what Elizabeth looked like when she first awoke, he thought she deserved the chance to collect herself.
Several moments passed in which Darcy could hear Elizabeth moving about to make herself more presentable.
"Have you been here all night?"
Darcy finally looked up at being directly addressed and grimaced. Elizabeth was still caked with blood, and he noticed several tears in her robes. Part of her hair was even singed. He did not like the reminders of the previous evening. He briefly entertained the idea of placating her with a lie, but abandoned it quickly. He was determined to be entirely honest. "I have," he said finally.
"Oh," Elizabeth said smally. She turned her face down to gaze at her hands uncomfortably for a moment. "I'm sorry about your robes," she said finally.
In the process of closing his book, Darcy was reminded of the fact that several layers about his shoulder were matted together with blood. "It is no matter," he said truthfully. "Whether this particular set of robes can be salvaged or not, I find I am eager to consign them to the fire."
"Your help wasn't necessary," Elizabeth said with a distinct tinge of anger. She was largely occupied with beginning to relieve her pillow of its ruined case. "I had a strategy to deal with him, you know."
"Oh?" Darcy asked, truly curious how this marvelous creature had thought to escape the trap that had been laid out for her.
"I knew he would want me to see his face," she said. "I was just about to launch another attack. He thought he'd won. It was the perfect chance to strike."
"I do not think he was so unprepared as you would like to believe, Miss Bennet," Darcy calmly countered. "Please, let me," he said, rising from his seat to assist Elizabeth's efforts.
"I'm perfectly capable, thank you," Elizabeth said shortly.
Darcy recognized the familiar sensation of exasperation with Elizabeth's stubbornness, but he conquered it with a deep breath. "I thought you might prefer to ask after a bath from Madam Pomfrey," he suggested.
"I can bathe well enough in my dormitory," Elizabeth answered, beginning to ball up the sheets.
"Madam Pomfrey has not yet released you, nor is she likely to," Darcy said.
"I have classes to get to," said Elizabeth.
"Dumbledore and McGonagall are in firm agreement that you will not be attending class for several days."
Elizabeth's back went rigid and she turned slowly to look at Darcy. "Is this your doing?" she asked dangerously. "Were you so worried that poor Lizzy Bennet would be overwhelmed by the event you managed to convince McGonagall I would need a few days to regain my sensibilities?"
Darcy clasped his hands behind his back and looked to the ceiling as he considered how to best reply to this assault.
"Rest assured, Mr. Darcy, I am doing perfectly well! I shall be right as rain as soon as I am able to clean myself up and put on a fresh set of robes. I am perfectly capable of meeting whatever speculation I may be confronted with, and have no fear of coming upon Malfoy. I rather imagine he and I have some things to discuss! I do not need to be hidden away!"
"If anyone was able to bring Minerva McGonagall around to their way of thinking, Miss Bennet, it would be you, not me," Darcy said finally. "No, I did not have anything to do with the decision to keep you in the hospital wing, though I must say I do like the idea."
Elizabeth snorted in anger and turned her back firmly on Darcy.
"Ah, Bennet, you're up," said Pomfrey, striding from her office. "Leave the bed be, girl. Your youngest sister will be bringing you a change of clothes before she goes down to breakfast, and Miss Weasley's already said she'll bring your bag by when she comes to check on Mr. Weasley. There's a bath ready for you in the room off my office. Go get yourself cleaned up."
Elizabeth was not so foolish as to fight with Madam Pomfrey. With tightly clamped lips, she made a flat-footed progression across the wing and closed the indicated door none-too-gently behind her.
"Go on then, Darcy," said Madam Pomfrey, waving her wand at the mess of bed clothes Elizabeth had made. "You need to change, yourself. Breakfast will open in just fifteen minutes, so you'd better hurry."
"I do not intend on going anywhere, Madam," said Darcy firmly.
Pomfrey raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" she challenged.
"Trusted though you may be, Madam, you will be busy throughout the day caring for whoever walks through those doors. I understand Mr. Julian Weasley to be under your charge, already. I would not see Miss Elizabeth at risk again because you are so diligent in your duties," Darcy tried to say tactfully.
Madam Pomfrey's other eyebrow rose to meet the first. "Have you consulted any others in coming to this decision?"
"No," Darcy answered simply.
"I do think Professor Flitwick would be exceedingly interested in all this," said Pomfrey lightly. She made no other comments, simply sent the bed clothes to a hamper in the corner with a flick of her wand and retreated to her office.
Darcy looked down at his soiled robes. He was, indeed, determined not to go anywhere, but he needed a fresh set of clothes. Perhaps Julian would be released soon, and Darcy could get word to Higgins or another roommate through him.
Flitwick emerged through one of the fireplaces in the large room before Darcy had time for further contemplation. "Well?" the short man said without preamble.
"I'm staying with Miss Elizabeth, sir," Darcy said unwaveringly.
Flitwick scrutinized Darcy for several moments, then shrugged. "Consider yourself away to Pemberley on urgent business, as far as other students are concerned. I'll ask Higgins to throw a few of your things together."
"Thank you, Professor," said Darcy genuinely. He had expected more of a fight to be made. "I will keep up on whatever work I miss."
"I don't doubt it," said Flitwick. He started to turn back to the fireplace, but reconsidered long enough to caution Darcy, "It's a dangerous game you're playing."
"I consider the prize worth the risk," Darcy answered.
Flitwick threw a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace and disappeared back to his office. Feeling as though things were finally somewhat settled, Darcy rolled his neck several times, hearing and feeling multiple satisfying pops.
Lydia Bennet slipped through the doors of the hospital wing and looked completely surprised to find Darcy there.
"Good morning, Miss Lydia," Darcy said politely.
"Darcy," Lydia answered after recovering herself. She looked around the wing before devoting anymore of her attention to him. "Where is my sister?"
"Bathing," Darcy answered. "Madam Pomfrey set it up just off her office."
Lydia strode past Darcy without another word. Failing to knock, she boldly entered Madam Pomfrey's office. As she passed through a second door, Darcy heard Elizabeth's faint and scandalized cry of "Lydia!" He allowed himself to chuckle at Lydia's antics. True, they might not be considered polite, but he was able to recognize Lydia's eagerness to see Elizabeth for herself, and her refusal to take the word of anyone else regarding her sister's state.
It was several minutes before Lydia emerged. She made her way straight to Darcy and fearlessly stood toe-to-toe with him.
"I may not be able to control what you do, Mr. Darcy," Lydia said hotly, "but if you hurt my sister in any way, you will answer to me!"
Darcy looked at the fierce girl before him and solemnly informed her that he had no intention of harming her elder sister.
"And I'll have you know," said Lydia just before she opened the doors of the hospital wing to make her exit, "the only reason I am not forcing you to leave with me is that Charles insisted a competent dueler ought to be keeping watch over Lizzy while she recovers."
Darcy considered himself properly warned by a member of Elizabeth's family and was pleased to know that all her sisters, even the one he had thought to be the silliest, would look out for her wellbeing. Such thoughts allowed him to resettle with the potions book with a great deal of ease.
"You do not need to be late for class on my account, Mr. Darcy. Madam Pomfrey has also assured me I am going nowhere, so there is no point in you dallying about."
Darcy looked up from his book to see Elizabeth stride past him, digging through the bag of clothes Lydia had brought her as she went. Though he could feel the frustration rolling off her, his breath was taken away by her appearance. Her hair was wet and tumbled freely down her back. Her feet were bare. Her clean scent wafted behind her. Her skin was radiantly clean, if still paler than usual.
Darcy had finally rallied himself enough to make a reply, but was prevented by Madam Pomfrey coming out of her office at the same time as Phoebe entered the wing. The matron made a fuss of examining Julian, plying him with food, and then declaring him well enough for class. Phoebe made quite an impressive show of giving Elizabeth her school bag and gave Mr. Darcy an encouraging wink when Elizabeth was distracted.
Madam Pomfrey sternly ordered Julian not to strain his still-tender arm, then released him to Phoebe's care and retreated to her office, closing the door behind her just as the Weasleys made their exit.
"Off you go, sir," said Elizabeth airily. She had settled herself, legs crossed, on her bed while Darcy was preoccupied with Julian's dismissal. They were now alone in the wing. Darcy had a sneaking suspicion Madam Pomfrey would be rather hard of hearing for the duration of the coming conversation.
Darcy drew a deep breath to brace himself, knowing the next several minutes would be exceedingly trying. "I am not going anywhere," he said factually, then flipped a page in his book and turned his gaze toward it.
"I do not need my every move watched!"
Darcy closed his book, set his face to a neutral expression, and gave Elizabeth his undivided attention as she raged at him for at least ten minutes complete. When she stood with her lips tightly pursed, brows drawn together, and hands on her hips, looking at him to make the next move, he responded quite calmly. "Everything you have said is true. You do not need someone fluttering about acting as a nanny, and I know better than most that you are capable of handling yourself."
"Then leave," Elizabeth said exasperatedly.
"No."
"Why?" Elizabeth snarled.
"Just because you can handle whatever may be thrown your way on your own does not mean that you have to do so," Darcy patiently explained. "Please allow me the honor of providing you some relief, some time free from unnecessary worry. Please allow me the privilege of lightening your burden."
Elizabeth was well and truly surprised by his response. In fact, she said not a word for at least a full minute.
"Why?" she asked again, this time at a breathless whisper.
Darcy inhaled carefully. He wanted to simply let the words spill from his mouth in a rush and be done with the vulnerability, but he forced himself to speak clearly at a manageable speed. "Because I genuinely care about you, Elizabeth. I expect nothing in return. Nothing," he repeated emphatically. He locked gazes with her for a moment before allowing himself to blink. "A woman such as you, that is constantly at work to make others comfortable no matter their level of social unease, as evidenced by my own sister's attachment to you, deserves some time free of any concern or obligation. I am determined to see you have the chance at it.
"So, Miss Bennet, you may argue all you wish, rage all you wish, stomp your feet and throw things, for all I care, but I will not be made to leave this room while you still have to watch your back for fear of another student attacking you again," Darcy finished firmly. He crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, opened his book back up, and devoted what he hoped appeared to be all his attention to it.
After a few moments of silence, Elizabeth resettled herself on her bed. Darcy heard her dig through her bag for a time, then the scratching of a quill alternating with the flipping of pages. When he believed her to be sufficiently engrossed in her work, he risked glancing up at her, though his face stayed turned toward the book in his lap. Her brows were furrowed, but Darcy was pleased to note it was from concentration on her task rather than stress at her situation.
Once Darcy had finished his speech, Elizabeth absolutely threw herself into her Herbology homework. She did not want to analyze all he had said. She supposed she could not force him to leave, and so chose to ignore him as best as possible while waiting for the consequences of skipping class to befall him.
When Elizabeth finished Herbology, the niggling thought that she did not really want Darcy to leave, nor to get in trouble for staying with her, began vying for more and more of her attention. As she began working on an Astronomy chart, some of her mind was able to process the time from last evening to the present moment. Eventually, she was forced to admit to herself that part of her, a larger part than she cared for, was grateful to Darcy for his steadfast attention and quick thinking.
Had Darcy slept, or had he kept watch over her all night? Had he sustained any injuries in fighting off Malfoy? What had happened to Malfoy? Did Darcy have plans to get a fresh set of clothes? How would the families of the two young men react to the whole situation, considering their marital ties? Would she, being in possession of the worst luck in the world, come to bear responsibility for another family estrangement? How long had she clung to him like a child last night?
Elizabeth felt herself blush violently at the thought. At the time, she had simply given in to impulse. To be carried so easily had been a long-forgotten comfort. She had felt safe, wrapped in Darcy's strong arms, for the first time in months. She was determined not to mention it to anyone, but she had rather enjoyed the sensation and hoped to have that comfort again at some point in her life. Perhaps, one day, she might actually marry and be held by her husband in such a fashion frequently.
Knowing herself to be heading into dangerous waters, Elizabeth sought escape from her own mind. She quickly decided to alleviate some of her curiosity. "Has Madam Pomfrey checked you over?" she asked Darcy as she waved her wand at her Astronomy chart to dry the ink.
"I managed to escape the ordeal without any injury," Darcy answered. Hid eyes flicked up from his book only briefly. "Thank you for your concern."
Elizabeth felt her lips pull in a frown. She wanted answers, true enough, but she also wanted conversation. Before she could ask him anymore questions, the fireplace nearest them flashed green and a small trunk appeared.
"Ah, how good of you, Higgins, Flitwick," Darcy said, seemingly to himself, as he rose to grab the trunk. He flipped it open to inspect the contents, nodding in satisfaction. He then straightened and looked around the wing.
"What are you doing?" Elizabeth asked as Darcy began drawing curtains around all the beds.
"I intend to change," said Darcy, "but I'll not have your precise location become so easily known while I'm at the task."
Elizabeth felt she should be angry, but had to manufacture the sullen quality of her tone as she said, "I think I just might remain unbothered for the few minutes it will take you to excuse yourself, sir."
"That is likely," said Darcy, drawing the curtain of the bed nearest her. He placed his hand on the hangings surrounding her as he said, "However, I am not willing to risk your safety by failing to take this simple precaution. Please lay back, or the sun will cast a shadow and expose you."
Elizabeth waited until she heard Darcy's footsteps begin to retreat before she did, in fact, lay flat on the mattress. She wanted to be upset with him. She wanted to yell at him, tell him to leave her alone. And yet, she could not stir herself to action.
As she stared at the ceiling, she examined her feelings more closely and finally admitted that Darcy had been right. She could very well protect herself, but she was so very tired of doing so. She was so tired of having to find solutions for everything. Tired of taking blame. Tired of being responsible for those whose care really ought to be the purview of another. Tired of always having to be strong, even when she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball.
Sure, she was able to confide in Jane, but Jane's priority was becoming Bingley, and Lizzy could not blame her for it. She would always love and trust Jane, but realized consciously for the first time that she could no longer cling to the rock that was her older sister. Perhaps she had recognized it on some level a while ago, but had not let it surface. Perhaps it was another reason for her pervading foul mood. Without Jane, who would she turn to? Her friends and other sisters were wonderful and supportive, true enough, but they did not understand her quite like Jane did. They were not her partner in everything.
Lizzy was tired of being tired. If Darcy wanted to watch her back for a few hours, she decided she would let him. After all, he had proved himself a capable protector several times over.
Author's Note
-chanting- Progress! Progress! Progress! Progress! Yay Lizzy and Darcy!
So this one time I almost burned my house down because I forgot to clean out my oven after some stuff dripped in it, then I set it to cook my dinner and... well... yeah. Adulting like a pro. Go me. Anyway, that's my reason for posting later than I usually do!
Please share with me your thoughts on this update!
