Chapter 7: Solitary Saturation
* Few know the reason that one will always live one's solitary live. Most question it. And the others just don't care.*
Some say that to be alone is to be lonely. Some say that's untrue. Lily wasn't about to argue with life, but she knew that it didn't matter whether or not you were alone. You could be surrounded by all that is alive and still be alone. She knew that. In a world where life is so easily taken for granted, she didn't matter. That was all it took to be alone. And yet she never had felt lonely.
Lily Evans was not an average child. Nor, for that matter, would she ever believe such an idea was true. She always kept to herself and rarely spoke outside her normal circle of everyday acquaintances she could absolutely not avoid. When James Potter came along, he changed everything. He made her lonely.
*The idea that life is forged by the hand of the author is a universal theory.* Lily slowly wrote in emerald cursive inside her denim journal. She kept the script small, prim, and flowing, hoping the words could be easily read. *However, there is still a singular problem: the identity of the author is not known. Some say god writes our destiny. I just know that I didn't write mine.*
The journal closed with a snap of hands that were not hers.
"You know, Evans, if I knew you wrote so much a wouldn't have given you that damn journal." James said softly, leaning in dangerously close to her. He smelled of soft cinnamon in the early winter. "Your wrist is going to fall off one of these days. You've gotta stop!"
Lily rolled her eyes at his jest, trying hopelessly to hold in a stream of giggles that wanted desperately to escape. Her hair swung over her shoulder, hitting her softly in the face. "I'd really like to be left alone.
"No,"
"Go away," she laughed playfully, allowing herself to smile at his boyish grin.
He shook his head. He really wasn't one to easily comply. At that, he certainly wasn't about to listen to a girl. To James, girls were weaklings meant to be controlled by sex. Lily knew that much, at very least. And yet his hazel eyes continued to sparkle merrily with life, life that she didn't believe she possessed. She didn't understand how that could be possible. He danced on life as if it were a ribbon. She just sat in place.
"Oh, Lily, mate, you intrigue me."
Once again she rolled her eyes. Melodrama was certainly not her forte, and dealing with its master was unquestionably much worse. However, there was one thing worse than the drama of James Potter: the lack thereof. Without his drama king qualities, he wasn't James Potter. Lily wasn't sure when his change in character had come about, but he seemed happier, and that was making her happy.
*When you find yourself in a relationship with Potter,* Lily thought to herself, *You can't just walk out. Your in his grip, and whatever he does, you're along for the ride.* "Lilia," he said, his breath, lover's speech sounding rather Shakespearian. "Milady, wilt thou accompany my loneliness on a walk?" He stuck his arm out as if he were a gentleman.
"You're a sorry old fart, James Potter." She stated, weakly trying to gain composure and burst out in a fit of giggles. Whatever would he think of that? She forced herself not to flush scarlet under his intent gaze, and then, indeed, took his arm.
"We make a lovely couple," he told he jovially, although he quite obviously was not speaking honestly. His slightly roguish grin that was pulling effortlessly at his lips certainly showed as much. "Don't you agree?" he asked.
Lily only shook her head.
"Where are we going?" She asked him. His pace was quick and did not help conversation in the least. She all but ran to keep up, her right hand growing slightly weak with the weight of her journal, her left hand strained from the distance between herself, James, and there haphazardly connected bodies.
"Hogsmeade, of course," he answered.
"B-but that's against the rules!" she spluttered in response. Lily Evans was a proper Catholic with a strict mother, and while she was no saint, she did hold great respect for Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. She did not commonly break his rules. Today was no weekend for gallivanting across school grounds. That was to be saved for Hogsmeade weekends.
But James seemed to pay no mind to Lily's protests, and dragged her along just the same, counting off rapidly what they were to do for the day. "I think we'll see Rosmert. I haven't seen her since graduation. She's a beauty, don't ya think? I wonder how she is? Oh, and Quality Quiditch is in Hogsmeade now! I forgot all about it. We'll have to stop there for a bit. And then we have to get you new clothes- look at the state of those robes! My mum'll never let you over looking like that." Hepaused for good measure, and then added, "Don't worry, Lily Darling, you'll be lovely when I'm done with you. Mum will just love fussing over you!"
Lily, her eyes wide and slightly dazed, stared at him with a gaping mouth. "Who are you, and what the fuck did you do to James?"
"I'm not James!" the boy laughed, "Just a very good impersonation. Wanna see one?"
She didn't answer.
The boy looked at her intently, squinted slightly in the way James did- though Lily could not for the life of her remember when James had ever done such a thing- then stepped back and pulled out a plain, silver lighter and a pack of Marlboros. "What a smoke?"
Lily squinted her own eyes right back at the boy who looked just like Potter. She took a apprehensive step forward with narrowed eyes, and took a cigarette with slender, knowing fingers. "Who are you?" she asked, letting him light the end of the cigarette.
"Sirius Black,"
"Oh," she said. "I should've known."
"Am I a good Prongs?"
She gazed at him, darkly curious. "Prongs?"
"Yes, Prongs, as in your sexual gratifier. You know, shaggy black hair, sorta tall, weirdo eyes. He answers to the name 'James.' Don't ask me why."
"Oh," she said again. "Not really."
"What? I don't get you all hot and bothered like that?"
She blanched. "No,"
"Oh," he said. "Are you sure? I thought I saw you give me a sultry look back there. I was starting to really want to be Prongs." A second later he continued his questioning. "How 'bout I take you to my place and we continue this discussion?"
Lily rolled her eyes. Sirius was rich, just like James. He could have had anything at all, but she was nearly certain he did not have his own 'place' in Hogsmeade. She wasn't sure he was even sixteen. "What place?" she asked skeptically.
"I'm so glad you asked." He exclaimed, lifting her up to twirl her around him. "It's this lovely little four-poster right near the window in a tower of a castle. Great view! We can have a little wine, maybe some dessert."
Lily shook her head, with a half smile on her lips. "No, I prefer not."
"Don't worry; lover-boy won't catch us."
"I'm not dating him."
"Then why the bloody hell not?"
Lily snickered. She had never formally been introduced to Sirius Black. He'd been mentioned to her before in passing, usually by pretty, blonde girls on the lines of, 'did you hear what Sirius did with me last night? Oh, he conjured up a rose, and then he took me to this little teeny-tiny café outside of Hogsmeade, and then we went back to his place, and then he, well, you know, and I, well, you know, and oh my god, he was, like, so sweet!' He always seemed a bit blasé about life, and very funny. And now he seemed gay. He was definitely not what she expected.
"I don't like boys," she said carelessly.
"Then you'll like Rosemerta's tits." He told her. "They're lovely, big, and tan, and-"
"Shut up,"
"Okay,"
They were silent a few minutes. Sirius, still looking exactly like James, and quietly acting like his polar opposite, continued to rush the two down the rolling Scottish hills around them.
"Want a butterbeer." Sirius finally asked.
"I'd rather something stronger."
He grinned. "Lilia, I know just what you need." At that, he ran even faster, physically agile in his movements. Minutes passed, and finally they seemed to stop in front of a Muggle 'detour' sign.
"*Abracadabra!*" he announced loudly. "That's what you Muggles say, isn't it?"
Lily nodded, and before her eyes there was no longer a 'detour' sign, but a wide, black portal of emptiness.
"Step inside,"
She expected to fall into nothingness, forever encased in a black hole, or something along those lines, but when Lily did comply, she found she was not in blackness at all, but a shop filled with witches robes of all the colors she could possibly imagine.
"Now, I told you," Sirius said deeply. "You can't go to a Potter Ball dressed in rags."
Lily glared at the boy indignantly, but said nothing. She set down her journal and began to explore.
Robes of every color seemingly danced out at her. There were cerulean prints and bold magentas, flattering prints, and trashy translucent things that Lily couldn't name, and a great quantity of pastels to match the new Spring season. Quickly, she went for a light green robe, a pretty one with a conservative bust and a cheap price.
"No," Sirius gasped quickly as if in horror. "Absolutely not! They're the Potters; not the Muggle Queen. Be pretty, sexy if you wish. I am here to indulge you're every whim." He paused. "I think I'll have you call me god."
"I'd prefer not," she told him with a curt nod, and grabbing a sky blue robe. It was a silky one.
"Beautiful color, beautiful color, but how about we move over *here*?" He led her away from the pastels toward a much less ladylike section of the store.
Lingerie. More over, very sexy lingerie.
"Er," she started, "Since when am I going to the Potter Mansion?"
Sirius paused. "Since this morning when James said he was going to kiss you on Easter night."
"Oh," she said. "Kiss me?"
"Yes, as in 'slobber on your face and hope you'll not care'."
"And this has to be on Easter?"
"Yep, can 'lil Lilia not wait?"
Lily rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but blush. "And James has to go home fore Easter?"
"Mmhm. Something to do with his campaign. And of course the Potters will have a ball. I'm invited too. And now I'll have to get something pretty to where." He picked up a lacy thong. It was bright pink. "What about this?"
"I hope to god your kidding."
"I'll be," he paused, looking for a good word. "Unique."
"Is that the new word for 'cross-dresser'?"
He shook a finger at her, and began to flip through robes, throwing a few off hangers and throwing them chaotically at her.
She rolled her eyes and they began to shop.
***
Days passed, two maybe more, bringing with them a loss of days before Easter. The winds of change continued to swirl in Lily's head, and she continued to change with them. She had not expected Sirius' words on her appearance at the Potter Mansion to be so blunt.
*James is going to kiss you on Easter night.*
Certainly that couldn't be right. But then, why would she be going to the ball if he wasn't going to kiss her? The truth hit Lily like a cold, brick of cement: he had never invited her.
Longingly, Lily's thoughts went back to the three dress robes Sirius had insisted on buying, and the pretty jade and cobalt day robe she happened to be wearing at that time. It was starting to seem doubtful that James would ever invite her. After all, there were only three more days before Easter Holiday. James was not that's slow.
The two of them, on that particular day, sat beneath the willow tree, the one that slowly wept downward as the day passed. It's lonely limbs hung limply in the murky waters of the lake. Lily hung like the tree's weeping branches over her secrets, silently smothering them. But the more she massacred, the more that killed her soul. Yet James did not notice. He was much too entwined with his own thoughts.
The sun sat before them, playing a single last romantic scene
"James," she said voicelessly. "Is there joy in loneliness?"
He shrugged in a tired fashion and slumped further down against the tree. "Why's it matter?"
"Dunno. Just wondering."
"I wouldn't suppose so," he told her. His eyes were shut.
"Why not?"
"That's the point of being lonely, isn't it? You're alone."
She shook her head vigorously. "You can be alone and be happy. I know that. It wasn't what I asked. Being lonely is actually feeling alone. But it can be so deep that it makes you cold in your bones. Sometimes, I wonder if happiness exists too, just as deep down. I want to know if that kind of happiness is really more that skin-deep."
James shot her an odd look, raising a straight black eyebrow. "I don't know how you mean."
"You can't be serious. Haven't you ever felt lonely?"
James sighed. "I really can't recall." His eyes opened, but still remained so empty.
She took his answer, though still feeling as if she was drowning in her sorrow. At that moment, she knew she'd give anything, anything at all to free her sins. Even James.
***
The early April air stung her bare arms despite her better attempts at a warming charm. It should have been warm in the Gryffindor Common Room. It so seldom was so icy, and lily's skin prickled in the darkness.
The room shone in an eerie blue glow, shifting her auburn hair into silver- black. She didn't really mind.
*If I could have anything,* Lily wrote blindly through the blurry dark onto a page of her journal. *I'd want to be the sunlight that streams into my room in the morning. The light's so warm, and empty as if it could last forever. It's so cold in the darkness. It's so cold.* Deep inside her thoughts, she knew she could never let herself be happy, and as long as she felt her solitude so deeply.
Slowly, she shut the denim notebook, leaning down just as it shut to trace a duo of words on to the cover. *Always May.*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hello, people, my freaky-deaky pals. Finally I have updated. I know it took me forever. Actually, like two days ago, I found my story on someone's favorite stories list. I was looking for something completely different, and I couldn't find it anywhere on the sit, and voila. My story sat before my very eyes. I could have kissed them. Sadly, I lost their name, and I don't believe they have reviewed my story. Oh, well. Thanks anyway. You got me to update, whoever you are.
Sorry I made Sirius so live in such a sugar-induced craziness of absolute homosexuality. I know it's rather cliché. Anyway, please review.
You know that little blue box loves you,
Hunter
* Few know the reason that one will always live one's solitary live. Most question it. And the others just don't care.*
Some say that to be alone is to be lonely. Some say that's untrue. Lily wasn't about to argue with life, but she knew that it didn't matter whether or not you were alone. You could be surrounded by all that is alive and still be alone. She knew that. In a world where life is so easily taken for granted, she didn't matter. That was all it took to be alone. And yet she never had felt lonely.
Lily Evans was not an average child. Nor, for that matter, would she ever believe such an idea was true. She always kept to herself and rarely spoke outside her normal circle of everyday acquaintances she could absolutely not avoid. When James Potter came along, he changed everything. He made her lonely.
*The idea that life is forged by the hand of the author is a universal theory.* Lily slowly wrote in emerald cursive inside her denim journal. She kept the script small, prim, and flowing, hoping the words could be easily read. *However, there is still a singular problem: the identity of the author is not known. Some say god writes our destiny. I just know that I didn't write mine.*
The journal closed with a snap of hands that were not hers.
"You know, Evans, if I knew you wrote so much a wouldn't have given you that damn journal." James said softly, leaning in dangerously close to her. He smelled of soft cinnamon in the early winter. "Your wrist is going to fall off one of these days. You've gotta stop!"
Lily rolled her eyes at his jest, trying hopelessly to hold in a stream of giggles that wanted desperately to escape. Her hair swung over her shoulder, hitting her softly in the face. "I'd really like to be left alone.
"No,"
"Go away," she laughed playfully, allowing herself to smile at his boyish grin.
He shook his head. He really wasn't one to easily comply. At that, he certainly wasn't about to listen to a girl. To James, girls were weaklings meant to be controlled by sex. Lily knew that much, at very least. And yet his hazel eyes continued to sparkle merrily with life, life that she didn't believe she possessed. She didn't understand how that could be possible. He danced on life as if it were a ribbon. She just sat in place.
"Oh, Lily, mate, you intrigue me."
Once again she rolled her eyes. Melodrama was certainly not her forte, and dealing with its master was unquestionably much worse. However, there was one thing worse than the drama of James Potter: the lack thereof. Without his drama king qualities, he wasn't James Potter. Lily wasn't sure when his change in character had come about, but he seemed happier, and that was making her happy.
*When you find yourself in a relationship with Potter,* Lily thought to herself, *You can't just walk out. Your in his grip, and whatever he does, you're along for the ride.* "Lilia," he said, his breath, lover's speech sounding rather Shakespearian. "Milady, wilt thou accompany my loneliness on a walk?" He stuck his arm out as if he were a gentleman.
"You're a sorry old fart, James Potter." She stated, weakly trying to gain composure and burst out in a fit of giggles. Whatever would he think of that? She forced herself not to flush scarlet under his intent gaze, and then, indeed, took his arm.
"We make a lovely couple," he told he jovially, although he quite obviously was not speaking honestly. His slightly roguish grin that was pulling effortlessly at his lips certainly showed as much. "Don't you agree?" he asked.
Lily only shook her head.
"Where are we going?" She asked him. His pace was quick and did not help conversation in the least. She all but ran to keep up, her right hand growing slightly weak with the weight of her journal, her left hand strained from the distance between herself, James, and there haphazardly connected bodies.
"Hogsmeade, of course," he answered.
"B-but that's against the rules!" she spluttered in response. Lily Evans was a proper Catholic with a strict mother, and while she was no saint, she did hold great respect for Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. She did not commonly break his rules. Today was no weekend for gallivanting across school grounds. That was to be saved for Hogsmeade weekends.
But James seemed to pay no mind to Lily's protests, and dragged her along just the same, counting off rapidly what they were to do for the day. "I think we'll see Rosmert. I haven't seen her since graduation. She's a beauty, don't ya think? I wonder how she is? Oh, and Quality Quiditch is in Hogsmeade now! I forgot all about it. We'll have to stop there for a bit. And then we have to get you new clothes- look at the state of those robes! My mum'll never let you over looking like that." Hepaused for good measure, and then added, "Don't worry, Lily Darling, you'll be lovely when I'm done with you. Mum will just love fussing over you!"
Lily, her eyes wide and slightly dazed, stared at him with a gaping mouth. "Who are you, and what the fuck did you do to James?"
"I'm not James!" the boy laughed, "Just a very good impersonation. Wanna see one?"
She didn't answer.
The boy looked at her intently, squinted slightly in the way James did- though Lily could not for the life of her remember when James had ever done such a thing- then stepped back and pulled out a plain, silver lighter and a pack of Marlboros. "What a smoke?"
Lily squinted her own eyes right back at the boy who looked just like Potter. She took a apprehensive step forward with narrowed eyes, and took a cigarette with slender, knowing fingers. "Who are you?" she asked, letting him light the end of the cigarette.
"Sirius Black,"
"Oh," she said. "I should've known."
"Am I a good Prongs?"
She gazed at him, darkly curious. "Prongs?"
"Yes, Prongs, as in your sexual gratifier. You know, shaggy black hair, sorta tall, weirdo eyes. He answers to the name 'James.' Don't ask me why."
"Oh," she said again. "Not really."
"What? I don't get you all hot and bothered like that?"
She blanched. "No,"
"Oh," he said. "Are you sure? I thought I saw you give me a sultry look back there. I was starting to really want to be Prongs." A second later he continued his questioning. "How 'bout I take you to my place and we continue this discussion?"
Lily rolled her eyes. Sirius was rich, just like James. He could have had anything at all, but she was nearly certain he did not have his own 'place' in Hogsmeade. She wasn't sure he was even sixteen. "What place?" she asked skeptically.
"I'm so glad you asked." He exclaimed, lifting her up to twirl her around him. "It's this lovely little four-poster right near the window in a tower of a castle. Great view! We can have a little wine, maybe some dessert."
Lily shook her head, with a half smile on her lips. "No, I prefer not."
"Don't worry; lover-boy won't catch us."
"I'm not dating him."
"Then why the bloody hell not?"
Lily snickered. She had never formally been introduced to Sirius Black. He'd been mentioned to her before in passing, usually by pretty, blonde girls on the lines of, 'did you hear what Sirius did with me last night? Oh, he conjured up a rose, and then he took me to this little teeny-tiny café outside of Hogsmeade, and then we went back to his place, and then he, well, you know, and I, well, you know, and oh my god, he was, like, so sweet!' He always seemed a bit blasé about life, and very funny. And now he seemed gay. He was definitely not what she expected.
"I don't like boys," she said carelessly.
"Then you'll like Rosemerta's tits." He told her. "They're lovely, big, and tan, and-"
"Shut up,"
"Okay,"
They were silent a few minutes. Sirius, still looking exactly like James, and quietly acting like his polar opposite, continued to rush the two down the rolling Scottish hills around them.
"Want a butterbeer." Sirius finally asked.
"I'd rather something stronger."
He grinned. "Lilia, I know just what you need." At that, he ran even faster, physically agile in his movements. Minutes passed, and finally they seemed to stop in front of a Muggle 'detour' sign.
"*Abracadabra!*" he announced loudly. "That's what you Muggles say, isn't it?"
Lily nodded, and before her eyes there was no longer a 'detour' sign, but a wide, black portal of emptiness.
"Step inside,"
She expected to fall into nothingness, forever encased in a black hole, or something along those lines, but when Lily did comply, she found she was not in blackness at all, but a shop filled with witches robes of all the colors she could possibly imagine.
"Now, I told you," Sirius said deeply. "You can't go to a Potter Ball dressed in rags."
Lily glared at the boy indignantly, but said nothing. She set down her journal and began to explore.
Robes of every color seemingly danced out at her. There were cerulean prints and bold magentas, flattering prints, and trashy translucent things that Lily couldn't name, and a great quantity of pastels to match the new Spring season. Quickly, she went for a light green robe, a pretty one with a conservative bust and a cheap price.
"No," Sirius gasped quickly as if in horror. "Absolutely not! They're the Potters; not the Muggle Queen. Be pretty, sexy if you wish. I am here to indulge you're every whim." He paused. "I think I'll have you call me god."
"I'd prefer not," she told him with a curt nod, and grabbing a sky blue robe. It was a silky one.
"Beautiful color, beautiful color, but how about we move over *here*?" He led her away from the pastels toward a much less ladylike section of the store.
Lingerie. More over, very sexy lingerie.
"Er," she started, "Since when am I going to the Potter Mansion?"
Sirius paused. "Since this morning when James said he was going to kiss you on Easter night."
"Oh," she said. "Kiss me?"
"Yes, as in 'slobber on your face and hope you'll not care'."
"And this has to be on Easter?"
"Yep, can 'lil Lilia not wait?"
Lily rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but blush. "And James has to go home fore Easter?"
"Mmhm. Something to do with his campaign. And of course the Potters will have a ball. I'm invited too. And now I'll have to get something pretty to where." He picked up a lacy thong. It was bright pink. "What about this?"
"I hope to god your kidding."
"I'll be," he paused, looking for a good word. "Unique."
"Is that the new word for 'cross-dresser'?"
He shook a finger at her, and began to flip through robes, throwing a few off hangers and throwing them chaotically at her.
She rolled her eyes and they began to shop.
***
Days passed, two maybe more, bringing with them a loss of days before Easter. The winds of change continued to swirl in Lily's head, and she continued to change with them. She had not expected Sirius' words on her appearance at the Potter Mansion to be so blunt.
*James is going to kiss you on Easter night.*
Certainly that couldn't be right. But then, why would she be going to the ball if he wasn't going to kiss her? The truth hit Lily like a cold, brick of cement: he had never invited her.
Longingly, Lily's thoughts went back to the three dress robes Sirius had insisted on buying, and the pretty jade and cobalt day robe she happened to be wearing at that time. It was starting to seem doubtful that James would ever invite her. After all, there were only three more days before Easter Holiday. James was not that's slow.
The two of them, on that particular day, sat beneath the willow tree, the one that slowly wept downward as the day passed. It's lonely limbs hung limply in the murky waters of the lake. Lily hung like the tree's weeping branches over her secrets, silently smothering them. But the more she massacred, the more that killed her soul. Yet James did not notice. He was much too entwined with his own thoughts.
The sun sat before them, playing a single last romantic scene
"James," she said voicelessly. "Is there joy in loneliness?"
He shrugged in a tired fashion and slumped further down against the tree. "Why's it matter?"
"Dunno. Just wondering."
"I wouldn't suppose so," he told her. His eyes were shut.
"Why not?"
"That's the point of being lonely, isn't it? You're alone."
She shook her head vigorously. "You can be alone and be happy. I know that. It wasn't what I asked. Being lonely is actually feeling alone. But it can be so deep that it makes you cold in your bones. Sometimes, I wonder if happiness exists too, just as deep down. I want to know if that kind of happiness is really more that skin-deep."
James shot her an odd look, raising a straight black eyebrow. "I don't know how you mean."
"You can't be serious. Haven't you ever felt lonely?"
James sighed. "I really can't recall." His eyes opened, but still remained so empty.
She took his answer, though still feeling as if she was drowning in her sorrow. At that moment, she knew she'd give anything, anything at all to free her sins. Even James.
***
The early April air stung her bare arms despite her better attempts at a warming charm. It should have been warm in the Gryffindor Common Room. It so seldom was so icy, and lily's skin prickled in the darkness.
The room shone in an eerie blue glow, shifting her auburn hair into silver- black. She didn't really mind.
*If I could have anything,* Lily wrote blindly through the blurry dark onto a page of her journal. *I'd want to be the sunlight that streams into my room in the morning. The light's so warm, and empty as if it could last forever. It's so cold in the darkness. It's so cold.* Deep inside her thoughts, she knew she could never let herself be happy, and as long as she felt her solitude so deeply.
Slowly, she shut the denim notebook, leaning down just as it shut to trace a duo of words on to the cover. *Always May.*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hello, people, my freaky-deaky pals. Finally I have updated. I know it took me forever. Actually, like two days ago, I found my story on someone's favorite stories list. I was looking for something completely different, and I couldn't find it anywhere on the sit, and voila. My story sat before my very eyes. I could have kissed them. Sadly, I lost their name, and I don't believe they have reviewed my story. Oh, well. Thanks anyway. You got me to update, whoever you are.
Sorry I made Sirius so live in such a sugar-induced craziness of absolute homosexuality. I know it's rather cliché. Anyway, please review.
You know that little blue box loves you,
Hunter