Izzie held the tray steady in her hand to stop the cups from rattling as she listened at the door the next morning. All sounded quiet in Richard and Thomas's bedroom, they had slept through half the morning so far. Izzie had been up a couple of hours but had let them sleep on, since they must be tired from traveling yesterday. They didn't come all the way to London to spend every moment in bed though so she turned the handle of the door, careful to not make it squeak. The sight before her melted her heart. Both her friends were still asleep. Richard held Thomas from behind, knees bent and an arm slung loose over his waist. His head nestled into the back of Thomas's neck. Thomas's hair is flopped in disarray over his forehead, a far cry from his usual smoother appearance. He blinked awake, not seeing her at first. He just tilted his head slightly to look back at Richard, a blissful smile on his face before he sighed and snuggled back under the duvet to hide from the chilling November morning air. As he pulled the covers up over his and Richard's shoulder, he saw her. "Izzie?" he mumbled, voice croaky from sleep.

"Brought you two some tea," she answered, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could.

"Thanks, but I could have gone and fetched it."

"Yes but—" Izzie glanced at Richard, still sleeping. She kept her voice down. "You fetch trays all the time, when was the last time someone other than Richard brought you tea in bed?"

Thomas yawned. "Not sure. When I was ill maybe?" He turned himself onto his back, taking his time so Richard didn't wake. Izzie adored the fact that Richard's only reaction was to push himself closer to Thomas's side. The darker haired man now had his partner using the side of his chest as a pillow.

Izzie put the tray down on the table at Richard's side of the bed. "Sleep well?"

Thomas nodded. "No alarm was a luxury. What time is it anyway?"

"Half past nine."

Thomas raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Lovely."

"Did he sleep well too?" Izzie whispered.

"Yeah, I worried he wouldn't." Thomas frowned. "Something was going on with him yesterday evening. He didn't tell me, just said he was tired."

Izzie had thought the same. Richard usually loved to hear any news or gossip from her or Lucy, especially after such a long time speaking to them. But he had looked as though his mind was a million miles away last night. "Maybe sleep was all he needed."

"Izzie?" Richard rubbed his eyes. "How long have you been there?"

"Not long. I brought you both tea." She sat down on Richard's side of the bed using his legs as a backrest. "I thought you would like a lie in, but also that you'd need a wake up call. I can't have you lying around in bed all day when you've got so much exploring to do."

Richard pushed himself up in bed, gave Thomas a quick kiss, which resulted in a sweet blush on his cheeks, and rested his eyes on the biscuits next to the teapot. "Those for us?"

"Mmm," Izzie answered as she took a bite into one of the biscuits she grabbed from the tray.

"You said that they were—"

"I did." Izzie held the remaining half of the biscuit in her hand and looked down at her friend through twinkling eyes. "Yes I did, but that's why I brought three biscuits up here. You two have the others." She poured out two cups of warm tea and passed one to Thomas then Richard. "So, I know you're both looking as though you've been rudely awoken at an unforgiving hour, but what are your plans for today?"

"Staying here is nice," Thomas purred, clearly reluctant to surrender his warm and cozy bed.

"Thomas."

"Yeah I know. You're right Izzie. We haven't really thought much to be honest. I have a few places I'd like to visit."

Richard gave Thomas a look. "Oh I know what you want."

"You usually do." Thomas's eyes teased Richard.

Richard responded with a low chuckle. "Yes I suppose I do. You are usually quite attentive at noticing what I enjoy as well Mr B—"

Izzie focused harder than what was necessary on swallowing her mouthful to avoid laughing and spitting out her tea. "You two are not able to resist are you?"

"Not likely no," Richard admitted. "But I've seen you and Lucy, I know you two are no better."

"Fine, yes, fine!" Izzie rolled her eyes at Richard's banter. "You haven't answered my original question."

"Sherlock."

"What?"

"Thomas here, is in a bit of a phase. He's been going through my shop reading everything he can on Mr Holmes, even though he's read them all many times over already. You should have seen him on the train yesterday."

"I told you Richard, novels like that, you need to read them over and over or you'd never pick up on all the important details and clues. It's part of the fun," Thomas insisted.

"Baker Street then?" she guessed.

"Yes?" Thomas confirmed, a defensive touch to his tone.

"No problem with that Thomas. None at all."

Thomas relaxed. "I'd like to have said I've been there, that's all. I was also hoping Richard could suggest somewhere good for lunch?"

"I think I could, Mr Barrow. We know a few places don't we Izzie, from over the years?"

"We do and it looks like a decent enough day out there. You could take it easy today, plan your day as it goes?"

"No plans for this evening though?" Richard asked.

"For me, no."

"Thomas and I are just curious as to why we needed to bring something smart?"

Izzie lips pursed into a secretive smile. "Oh that. Well, I'm still arranging that, so you two will have to be patient. I promise you though, you'll both love it." She enjoyed the mixture of impatience and curiosity on their faces. Lucy had been sworn to secrecy as well. She and Izzie had a useful connection that would provide Richard and Thomas with some well deserved and needed relief, but a few final pieces were still to fall into place. Although she was itching to tell them, she held her tongue for now. "I'll let you both get up." She stood up from the bed. "I'll be out today, but you know where the spare key is Richard, so take that and come and go as you please."

"Thanks," Richard said, as she opened the bedroom door to the landing.

"No problem." She paused and turned back to them. "A couple of things though. The bottle of champagne under the kitchen sink is being saved for mine and Lucy's anniversary. It was another gift from Larry. I wasn't going to refuse that one."

"Of course not," Thomas agreed.

"Secondly, no sex in our bedroom okay? Within reason I'm not bothered about anywhere else, but not there. It's our space right?" Izzie knew it was not a necessary rule to lay down, but she seemed to share Richard's love of teasing, and since Thomas had gone redder than a freshly ripened apple she decided it was worth it in the end.

...

Meanwhile in Downton...

David watched Chris with a loving smile on his face from the open doorway of Chris's bedroom as the sky began to brighten with the morning. Only Chris's face was visible, the rest of him cocooned in a duvet and another blanket against the chilly air. He slept on his side, lightly snoring, David hated to wake him. He'd let him sleep as long as he could, Chris hadn't admitted it but he'd still been catching up with sleep he'd lost from the weekend after staying up most of the night when Richard was missing. It was how he'd always been, it was a trouble to get him to express how he truly felt a lot of the time. Like Thomas, it was a defence system he'd maintained through most of his life.

Chris had slept through the alarm that had woken David in time for him to slip out of Chris's cottage unnoticed. He knew Chris would hate to be late since he was the only one running the shop for the next several days. "Chris," David whisphered, feeling silly for keeping his voice down since the purpose was to wake him up anyway. Chris only nuzzled further into the pillow. "Chris," David repeated, giving his shoulder a gentle shake. Chris mumbled something inaudible and sunk himself down under the covers. David groaned. For a man who used to be an early riser, he couldn't be less eager if he tried to get up. David knelt by the side of the bed and decided to try another tactic. He kissed him on the forehead, brushing a finger along the side of Chris's chin in the process. "Sorry love, you'll be late if you don't get up soon.'

"Not yet," Chris groaned.

"Chris."

"Go away," Chris resisted, as he lazily pushed David away.

"Right, you'll only be gumpy later if you're late, so you asked for it." With a shift tug David yanked the blankets away from his sleepy lover.

"Hey!" Chris grabbed hold of the edge of the duvet and pulled it back.

The unexpected strength caught David off balance and he found himself pulled on top of Chris's chest. "Awake now?"

Chris scowled. "Yes. Ah! David you're on my leg."

David repositioned himself immediately. "Sorry, you okay?"

"Hmm, I'll live." Chris looked up at him, as David straddled either side of Chris's shoulders with his hands. Chris sighed in defeat, his scowl turning into a tired smile. "I would have been grumpy, more than I am now, you're right."

"Matthew is coming over for dinner this evening. He'd like you more if you weren't in a mood." David lowered himself a little onto him.

"I thought he likes me already?"

"He does. But still." The corner of David's lip twitched as he enjoyed the warmth of Chris's finger on his forehead as he pushed his blonde floppy hair away from his eyes. Chris's finger traced down the side of David's face and behind his ear. He shivered at the sensitive touch. Chris's eyes smiled at the reaction. His hand rested on the back of David's neck, a warm contrast to his colder skin. Their lips met in unison, joining with gentle kiss after kiss, each lingering and deliberate.

David pulled back, resting their foreheads together. "Morning."

...

"Not been here for a very long time, but I think it's this way," Richard said to Thomas as he hurried after him down a maze of streets and alleys somewhere in the vicinity of Baker Street station. They had taken the underground to their next destination after starting their day strolling around a local park within walking distance from Izzie's house. Thomas felt like a bit of a fool for wanting to seek out the fictional home of a fictional character but Richard had been willing to indulge him in his somewhat childlike fantasies. They had both felt peckish after leaving the station though, so had stopped for lunch at a cafe before embarking on their next stage of exploring. Thomas had however been perplexed by Richard's insistence that they skip dessert and instead eat that somewhere else. Thomas couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed as he'd had his eye set on a rich slice of chocolate cake in the cabinet behind the counter.

"We could have just eaten back there Richard. Didn't look like there was anything wrong with the cakes," Thomas complained.

"Mr Barrow, you will thank me for pulling you away later," Richard called out over the traffic as they left another main street, which Thomas was sure was taking them further and further from 221B. They'd have a long walk back. Twists and turns, and a few dead ends owing to Richard's memory of London not being as it used to be, eventually led them to a small but neat looking street where the roofs of the buildings on each side almost touched each other on the top floors. These buildings were old, tudor fashioned timber framed with each floor jutting out further into the space above the street than the one below. "Ah, there it is!" Richard exclaimed triumphantly as he smiled over his shoulder to Thomas and then back to a little cafe called The Lemon Slice judging by the yellow italicised sign above the window.

"Desert parlor?" Thomas queried as they approached.

"Yes, I used to come here a lot...with Jack."

Thomas's heart sank with empathy. "Richard..."

"No, it's fine," Richard reassured him with the slightest of shakes of the head. "I have some of the best memories here. He'd like it if I took you here I think."

Thomas followed Richard in through the door, where he gave himself a private hopeful smile that Richard was making some progress. The welcoming scent of a mixture of what Thomas thought was freshly cooked pastry of some kind, and a sweetness that belonged to cream, or chocolate or some sort of fruit? Anyone from Downton's staff could confirm that he had a sweet tooth; he'd made a habit over the years of pinching cakes from the table behind Mrs Patmore's back. He forgave Richard in an instant from dragging him away from desert from the first cafe they visited. "Richard, this place smells wonderful."

"Doesn't it just?"

"You'll have to recommend your favourites." They approached the counter, where a stout middle aged man with light ginger hair stood with his back to them, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, rolling something out on a board with a rolling pin.

"Afternoon Sammy," Richard said to the man. Thomas's eyes widened with the surprise that he knew him by name.

"Richard?" Sammy said, jumping in surprise. "Richard Ellis?"

"Hello." Richard's eyes glinted with the enjoyment of the man's shock at seeing him.

"Well, well. I haven't seen you around here for god knows how long. Blooming age that's how long! You disappeared off the radar, least I thought you did until I heard on the grapevine that you'd moved away, found yourself suited to country life? I would never have guessed you know."

Richard gave Thomas a sideways glance. "Yorkshire had its charms. Found it impossible to be anywhere else."

Sammy looked between Richard and Thomas, who felt a little alarmed at the conclusions he must be drawing up in his mind right now. The logical side of him knew though that Richard would never be so obvious if Sammy wasn't a friend. "Oh I see, well good for you Richard. Though I must introduce myself to your companion. Sammy Pellow." The man brushed some flour off his hands before reaching over the counter top to shake Thomas's. "I've known Richard for a while, he used to be one of my best customers, until his attention caught on elsewhere."

Thomas ducked his gaze, hoping he wasn't blushing. "Thomas Barrow," he introduced. "Richard and I..." Thomas couldn't think of how to finish his sentence. Years of cautious behaviour had killed his ability to be spontaneous.

"Are here on a little bit of a break," Richard continued for him. Thomas shot him a grateful look. "I had to take him to the best place in the city for dessert."

"Ah well, in that case I am honoured and suggest you take a seat and browse the menu for your favourite, or favourites if you're feeling indulgent," Sammy suggested with a wink.

...

After going back and forth over different choices on the menu, after many incidents of making up their minds only to change them at the last minute, Thomas and Richard tucked in. Thomas had been indulgent and had chosen both lemon meringue pie, and a rich chocolate cream cake topped with a single strawberry. He had gone back and forth between the two choices for so long, Richard had told him to get both. Richard had opted for a baked blueberry cheesecake, which surprised Thomas given the memories associated with that particular pudding that he'd told him about a week or so before. As they ate, Thomas noticed how Richard kept pausing, holding a piece of his dessert on his fork mid air as he looked around the small cafe. His expression in these moments became closely guarded, almost unreadable, except Thomas knew him. The dim light in his eyes, the borderline between joy and sorrow, flickered back and forth, in a feeling that Thomas could only describe as bittersweet. Richard had good memories here, but the person who made them was long gone. Thomas wondered to himself, as he took a big mouthful of meringue savouring the sweetness of the fruity aftertaste, if Richard would ever have the same amount of room in his heart for him, now that Jack was so much in his mind? He promptly told himself to shut up, before Richard noticed his concerns.

Richard did not notice it seemed as an amused smile lit up his face that grew into a chuckle. "Mr Barrow," he hummed, nibbling his lip in a way that Thomas found captivating.

"What?" Thomas looked behind him, only a few other tables were occupied by customers, who paid them little attention. He looked back at Richard again, who was still grinning at him. Sammy, who had been busy covering a cake in icing, smirked. "Richard, what?"

"You've got a little something just there," Richard pointed to his own nose to indicate his meaning.

Thomas shut his eyes for a moment in his embarrassment. "Oh, thanks." He picked up a napkin to remove the blob of chocolate cream from the tip of his nose that he hoped had not been there long enough for too many people to notice.

"No." Richard stopped him with his fingertips on the top of his hand. Thomas pulled away, hoping no one saw. The only person who noticed was Richard, who did well to hide his disappointment. Thomas wanted to let him help, but they were in a direct line of sight from another couple sitting at the table by the window. He couldn't let them risk it. Such a simple gesture, but fear held him back. At that moment, Sammy, who had been watching the whole affair, took the opportunity to clear the other table's used dishes. The destraction, and his body blocking their view of Richard and himself gave them a brief window. Richard glanced over his shoulder and with a single wipe, removed the cream from Thomas's nose. When Sammy passed them on his way to the kitchen, Thomas smiled his thanks. Whether the move was deliberate by Richard's old acquaintance or not, he didn't know, but right there and then Richard was given another fond memory of a place he used to know.

…

Meanwhile in Downton...

"Well that was wonderful," Mr Tomlinson declared, setting his knife and fork down on the empty plate. "Well worth the trip over here Chris thank you."

"You're welcome Mr Tom— Sorry, Matthew." Chris warmed with the compliment as he corrected himself. Tonight, since it was just them they dropped the formalities. It had been David's idea to invite him over for dinner, and since David was not the best in the kitchen, Chris had agreed to play host at his place. He'd been nervous beforehand, aside from Richard or Thomas and David of course he never really had guests over for anything prolonged like an evening meal. It wasn't as though he knew many people who he could feel happy about being in his home. He'd spent a long time after work tidying up, while David had spent most of that time trying and failing to persuade him not to worry too much, as Mr Tomlinson lives on a farm and has to put up with him being untidy most of the time anyway. Chris had snapped at David then in his anxiety, only to immediately beg David's forgiveness. David, as usual, didn't let it phase him, and just kissed him on the forehead to show he was just as quickly forgiven.

"David, you should have told me that he was handy in the kitchen. I would have hinted at this visit earlier otherwise!" Mr Tomlinson joked.

David's hearty laugh filled the kitchen where they ate. "Chris, makes up for the fact that I am useless with food. He wouldn't even let me help with the potatoes."

"David, I did let you. You washed them."

"I did, but I would have cut them up too. If I can swing an axe for the firewood then surely I could cut a few potatoes in half?"

"You tried once, they were too large and ended up only half cooked. Anyway, I prefer watching you sorting out the firewood."

David leaned forward slightly to him over the table and smirked. "I know you do, especially in the summer when it becomes rather hot work."

Images of David in a loose shirt sleeves rolled up to show his strong muscular arms, or even better in no shirt whatsoever flashed across Chris's mind. "David!" Chris's eyes widened with embarrassment at David's forwardness in front of their guest, who'd been following their banter back and forth with an amused expression on his face. "Matthew, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I was rather enjoying watching you two." Mr Tomlinson dropped a piece of leftover chicken down by the side of his chair and straight into the hopeful mouth of his dog Hector, who refused to be left out of the occasion. Chris had been a bit concerned his neighbour's cats, that liked to occupy his garden and sometimes even his house, would object. They had done at first, arching their backs and hissing in protest, but Hector paid them little attention and they soon sulked off, bored. "Where did you learn to cook Chris?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Taught myself mostly. Not left with much of a choice, with it just being me most of the time. Before that, I suppose my mum and my sisters. I used to help them with baking sometimes, before my father put a stop to it." Chris's gaze dropped to his plate at the mention of his family, who sometimes were so distant he wondered if he had imagined them all along. He decided it was a mistake to mention them. The jolly atmosphere had been silenced by his words. "I'll just clear these away."

"Want a hand?" David offered with a concerned frown.

"No, I'm fine." Chris busied himself with the plates, managing to hold all three like a waiter in a restaurant long enough to get them to the work surface near the sink.

"I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn," Mr Tomlinson apologised.

"It's not your fault, you were only taking an interest." Chris reassured him with his back turned.

"It's a touchy subject," David continued for him. "They weren't the best towards him as he got older."

"A story I hear far too many times," Mr Tomlinson said with a sad shake of the head. "Family should mean always being there, despite our differences."

"Ideally yes, but that's not the way things work for most of us," Chris said bitterly. "Sorry, you don't need to hear my feelings about them."

"And you would like to express how you feel once in a while, am I right?"

Chris nodded. Somehow, the farmer always knew the wise thing to say. "Sometimes." He sat down, whilst he waited for the milk to boil for the custard. David had moved over to the spare chair next to his during his time away from the table so they sat side by side.

"You miss them?"

"No, why would I?" Chris retorted too quickly. He swallowed. "Yes. I wonder sometimes, how they turned out, my brothers and sisters. I had four. Two older, two younger. I think that maybe they have families of their own, that their children have no idea they have an extra uncle. But if they were bothered about me, they would have tried to find me. Or perhaps they worry I might corrupt their children."

"Or maybe they have tried, but don't know where to look? The world is a big place," Mr Tomlinson suggested.

Chris shrugged. "Probably for the best anyway, I'd only have to keep up a false appearance, play into their hands as to what they think I should be, instead of who I really am." Chris looked to his side to David who, for most of this conversation, had been holding his hand under the table, merely out of habit. Chris squeezed David's hand and lifted their embraced fingers onto the top of the table. He looked into his partner's eyes with a determined gaze. "No matter what they or others might think, I am not for one second ashamed of who I am or who I love. I'd only have to pretend and I've done a lot of pretending."

"Have you ever looked for them? Or your parents?"

"No. My older brother and sister were on the same wavelength as my parents with regard to what they thought of me when I was found out. My younger siblings were too young to understand. I don't think they were even told the real reason why one day I left and never came back. They most likely know by now though." None of them spoke for a moment. Mr Tomlinson seemed to be thinking but looked at Chris and David's entwined hands on the table top and smiled at them both. "I have family right here, in my friends. I value that and I'm grateful, which I extend to you Matthew." Chris nodded in the farmer's direction. "Downton was only supposed to be a place I passed through. It seemed like a good job I stayed."

…

Thomas lay in bed later that evening thoroughly enjoying the cozy warmth of a thick duvet that he lifted up to let Richard into their bed as well. Richard flopped down with a grunt. He wasted no time getting his feet under the covers first before covering them both again so Thomas felt temporary chill from the evening air dissipate as Richard's body warmth took over. "You okay?" he asked, in response to Richard's grunt.

"Yeah, just tired, we've done a lot today." Richard snuggled down so he could nestle his head into the side of Thomas's chest as they both lay on their backs.

Thomas lifted up his arm until Richard had settled, and then rested it over the top of Richard's pillow, so his hand was just under the duvet and on Richard's shoulder furthest from him. "Nice to have done a lot but for ourselves instead. I'm always doing a lot, but usually for other people."

"I know what you mean," Richard hummed as he closed his eyes and breathed out. Thomas felt Richard's body relax against him. They lay there in comfortable silence, neither man ready to sleep just yet. They'd spent the day just gone enjoying London like a couple of tourists. After the visit to The Lemon Slice, they retraced their steps and Thomas had been able to visit the fictional home of his fictional hero at Baker Street. Richard had endorsed his enthusiasm without hurrying him on, even though he didn't share the same interest. They'd revisited a few of their stops they made on their first visit to London as a couple over five years before. They browsed Selfridges, and took their time strolling along Oxford Street, before getting another train to the river where they brought coffee in the mid afternoon. Each aspect of their day Thomas had enjoyed, but the best part was getting to see the Richard he knew before all the trouble had started. They'd only been in the city for a day or so, but Thomas felt hopeful this visit was helping Richard.

"You've felt okay today?" Thomas asked as he kissed the top of Richard's head.

"Told you, just tired."

"I know, I mean...felt okay within yourself?"

Richard opened his eyes and tilted his head up in Thomas's direction. "I haven't wanted to say anything in case I spoiled it, but...I have actually, on the whole anyway."

"You did well taking me to The Lemon Slice, considering it held so much about Jack and you."

Richard turned away again. "I thought it would be an easy place to start. Nothing but good memories there. If Jack had known you and how much you like your sweet things he would have probably taken you there himself and I would have been left feeling totally torn between the two of you." Richard laughed and Thomas found it contagious so he had to join in, only too glad Richard could laugh about things that mention his past love. He hadn't done that before. As the moment passed, Richard stilled again. "I want to tell you something, but please don't think I'm an idiot."

"I wouldn't ever think that."

Richard turned over onto his side and pushed himself up so his head was on the pillow facing Thomas. "Last night when you asked me if something was wrong I brushed your concern off."

"Yes?" Thomas encouraged.

"There was something. To be honest, I was tired from the train journey and I wonder if I dozed off for a moment and dreamt it, but I don't know. I saw something, someone in the hallway outside the living room yesterday evening when we were all sitting there after dinner."

Thomas tensed, "What do you mean, someone?"

"I don't really know. Just a flash of movement that I ignored as my mind playing tricks on me, since it does that a lot these days. Maybe it was just me, but I thought I...I thought..."

"Richard?"

"I thought I saw Jack," Richard blurted out. "Just the back of him, just a second, but I remember it clear as day."

Thomas didn't move. He knew what Richard was trying to say without actually having to say it. "You saw Jack's ghost?"

"I sound insane, I know."

"No."

"No?"

"Well, you remember that time I not only saw, but had a conversation with Sybil, who visited our home, in our bedroom whilst you were asleep. I've seen them too and you didn't think I was mad when I told you so no, it's not insane."

Richard squeezed Thomas's hip with his hand, as though needing reassurance. "I know you believe, but how do I tell if it was real or just my mind playing up again?"

"I...I don't know." Thomas had no idea how to answer that. He'd had his fair share of his mind dreaming up things or feelings that weren't there, and they were usually fuelled by a hope or desperate need for them to be real. "But you've been doing well recently, maybe you saw what you saw."

"If I did, I hope he's okay. He can't rest for some reason, can't find peace."

"Maybe he's just looking out for you?" Thomas suggested pulling a protective arm around Richard.

"Maybe," Richard whisphered. "I'm sorry I didn't say something yesterday."

"Doesn't matter. Whatever you saw, you were brilliant today Richard." Thomas kissed his forehead. "Brilliant. I'm proud of you."

They stayed embraced silent for several minutes, the clock in the background ticking back and forth in the background. "I'm feeling sleepy Thomas." Richard murmured into Thomas's neck.

"Don't hold back on my account." Thomas kissed Richard again as he drifted off to sleep in his embrace. He stayed holding him close, feeling his breathing slow and steady against his neck, Richard's fingers that had gripped Thomas's clothing loosened and he sighed in his new found slumber. Thomas waited for him to be fully asleep before he surrendered to his own tiredness. Before closing his eyes he looked around the darkened room, wondering if Richard's guardian ghost was watching them.

Notes:

- If the quality of this chapter isn't quite up to my usual standard, I apologise. I'm recovering from covid and I didn't even think I would make my usual three week update deadline to be honest.

-I reference events in a one shot I wrote called 'Guardian Ghost' where Sybil's ghost visits Thomas.

-I also planned this chapter ending on a lighter note, but the angst crept in again…oops!