Eclipse, Chapter 3
The next day passed quickly, and Carys soon found herself sitting on a private jet with Esme (which might, depending on how you interpreted Carlisle's words, have either belonged to or been chartered by her, but was, either way, the reason he was changing his blank cheque policy on birthday presents), on their way to London.
Nursing a cup of coffee in one hand, Carys held her book open in the other, staring blankly at the page. Though she'd read the same sentence three times already, she wouldn't have been able to supply so much as the gist of it if asked. She was too distracted by her thoughts, which had recently moved onto the subject of Leah and Seth.
Carys had tried to ring Leah a few times the day before to warn her about what was happening that weekend, and had reached her voicemail each time. Eventually, she'd given up and called the Clearwaters' home phone instead. Seth had picked up.
After making general small talk - greeting each other, remarking about how long it had been, asking after Sue and receiving the news that she was doing better, and then discussing the change in weather - Carys had been unsure how to phrase: "So... Are you a wolf?" and had instead resorted to asking if he'd joined any new clubs lately.
Seth had laughed for a couple of minutes before all but confirming her suspicions by telling her he and Leah had been spending a lot of time with a new group which included Sam and Jacob.
If Leah had been angry about her shift - and from what Carys knew, Jacob wasn't all too happy to be a wolf either - Seth had sounded immensely proud. His tone had thrown her, and she'd all but told him as much, to which he'd replied:
"Well, it's what Dad wanted. He was excited about it, even if Mom thinks I'm too young to be running around the forest."
Carys was inclined to agree with Sue on that one.
"It's not all sunshine and roses, and I wish they were nicer to Leah..." Sounding as if he'd realised he'd said more than he meant to, he'd quickly asked, "Are you coming to visit? Lee misses you; I miss you."
"You miss the free food I bring with me," Carys had teased. "But I don't think so... If I wasn't exactly welcome before, I hardly think-"
"That was before!" he'd all but whined. "Do you not like us now? Just because we're mortal enemies with the Cullens doesn't mean we can't be friends."
Carys had thought better of reminding him he was more of a best friend's younger brother who she cared for greatly than a friend himself. Instead, after a pause, she'd asked, "Is everything so completely black and white for you, Seth? I do hope so."
"All I know is Lee keeps thinking about you, and Jake keeps thinking about Bella," he'd said, "maybe you all just need a push?"
It had been Carys' turn to laugh. "I don't know about Jacob, but Lee knows I'm here when and if she's ready. For what it's worth, I miss you both too."
"That's the point!" he'd whined anew. "So now Leah and I miss you, you miss us, Jacob misses Bella, and Sam's annoyed because he thought if he let Lee go to Forks it would make her hate you more, but it didn't."
"Careful now," she'd affectionately warned him, feeling much better now he'd reconfirmed that she was missed, "you're almost on the verge of making too much sense."
They'd talked for around ten minutes more before Carys had promised to see what she could do about a visit, and turned the conversation again to tell him about what was happening on Saturday. He'd let her go soon after, so he could catch Sam to tell him the news.
The shapeshifters would be on alert, though Carys very much doubted it would change much to do with the animosity the two groups felt towards each other. Seth and Carlisle, on the other hand, were each inclined to disagree. They'd both been just as hopeful as each other.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Carys recited under her breath.
Esme, sitting on the other side of the shiny wooden table that jutted straight out of the wall, looked up from the third book in the series she'd started two hours before. "What was that?"
Carys grinned. "We both know you heard every word," she said. "How long 'til we land?"
"About seven hours," Esme replied, letting the subject go. "Dinner's almost ready if you're hungry."
Carys hadn't been, but the mere mention of food made her stomach rumble. She wasn't sure how. They'd already had a late lunch, and she'd eaten enough for both of them before the air steward had come back for their plates.
"I might have something later... Really tired, so I might try to get some sleep if that's okay," she said, closing her book.
"Of course," Esme agreed happily, returning to her page.
Carys had decided once and for all - after Esme had automatically assumed she'd have seconds at lunch - that she should take up eating for one and running again. If Esme simply needed to cover herself, she would have prodded the food around the plate and said she hadn't realised she'd not been hungry, as she usually did. Instead, she'd expected Carys would want more and had seen it as a kind gesture to offer.
Carys abandoned her coffee, hitched her blanket up over her shoulders, and reclined her seat - which more closely resembled an expensive leather easy chair than a plane seat as she knew them - all the way back, sharing a smile with Esme before closing her eyes. Then she rolled onto her side and smoothed her hand over her stomach. Her clothes felt tighter than ever. If Leah had come by her house now, she'd not have been able to say they were the same size.
It bothered her.
When she'd mentioned it to Monica, she'd suggested their metabolisms might be similar and it was because she'd been stressed for so long and had become used to running off the excess. When she'd spoken to Sarah, she'd asked which birth control she was on, as she knew Carys had used the pill to control the strength and consistency of her periods since she was a teenager. Neither of them had seen any reason to worry beyond potentially needing to buy new jeans, but Carys did.
Putting on or losing weight had never bothered her as much as it did now that she moving steadily closer to her wedding, and following that, immortality. Of course, she reminded herself, she'd also generally stayed within the same stone of weight. She was now more than halfway into the next one.
With that now plaguing her mind, she settled in to pretending she was asleep until after Esme had pretended to eat her own dinner.
"And then, after Garrett, I was with Luca on and off for a couple of years-"
"Wait, what!?" Carys yelled, bouncing up and down with her jaw wide open, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
They were sitting on Esme's hotel bed, facing one another, as they had been for the past hour. Carys was too excited about the prospect of all they could do on the cloudy Friday that was coming to be able to sleep. To occupy themselves, they'd decided to talk about past boyfriends without the risk of being overheard.
"What?" Esme asked, a little too innocently. If she'd been able to blush, there was no doubt in Carys' mind she would have. "Luca isn't-"
"We're both know I'm not talking about Luca!" Carys accused, jumping onto her knees and scrambling across the bed to shake Esme's shoulders - not that the vampire moved an inch. "Did you say, Garrett? As in Garrett Garrett!? You can't just speed over that!"
Esme pressed her lips together to hide a smile. "I might have...?"
"Oh my god, tell me everything!"
Esme's expression changed so quickly, it seemed to jump from mildly amused to hopeful. "I thought Carlisle would've... He likes to tease me about it... If I tell you, you're not going to make a big thing about it as he does, are you?"
"No no no," Carys promised quickly, shaking her head. "Tell me all! I mean, not all - none of us want that - but what happened!? When? How long were you together? Was it good? No, I shouldn't ask that."
Esme waited until Carys shuffled away a little, pressing her fists to her cheeks before answering:
"If I tell you this, it goes no further?"
Carys crossed herself. Esme laughed, taking her time to adjust her pillow behind her back.
"Alright... Garrett came to stay in the early fifties... I forget what for-"
"Very much doubt that! Sorry." Carys zipped her lips and replaced her hands.
"Anyway, he came to visit... Edward and Carlisle went on a hunt one afternoon, and he..."
"Yes...?"
Esme, looking up towards the ceiling, grinned in remembrance of it. "He told me he hadn't been able to take his eyes off me for the past week."
"He didn't?"
Esme nodded. "He did. He said he doesn't usually do this, but would I be interested in making the trip more memorable."
"He didn't!?" Carys screamed. Lowering her voice, she pressed her hands to her lower face and spoke around her fingers. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. Go on."
"Well... We didn't see much of anyone else for about a week." Checking Carys' comically shocked expression and ignoring the fact she'd stopped breathing, Esme leaned forward and, with a conspiratorial smile, winked and added, "As you no doubt know, we have no need of food or rest."
Carys squeaked.
"Now, to answer your last question, yes." Esme chuckled, drawing herself away and nodding her head. "It was very good indeed... Now, Luca... I shouldn't say, but as we're both adults here..."
Carys was still thinking about Esme and Garrett a few hours later, tucking into her pancakes at My Old Dutch in Holborn. The small pancake house was one of the first stops from her bucket list that Carlisle had reminded her of, and was close enough to where they were staying - the Ritz, another one from the list, though My Old Dutch was on the Go Again section, whereas the Ritz was firmly in Never Done Before territory - that they had walked there to catch it just as it opened that morning.
"I just can't believe you got with Garrett," Carys said between mouthfuls of thick pancakes, bacon, eggs, and maple syrup. "It's like... It's like..."
"Is it strange because you know us both now?" Esme suggested, cutting her food into stars. "I know Carlisle finds it amusing to watch us squirm about it all. Almost everyone else found it perfectly normal, but Edward was rather horrified, the poor boy."
Carys shook her head and waved her fork as she thought about it before swallowing. "No," she concluded, whispering so that they weren't overheard, "more along the lines of realising you're out there living your incredible life, having flings with hot historical soldiers and sexy thousand-year-old Maltese vampires, and I'm-"
"Stuck with the one?" Esme observed, chuckling.
"No," Carys said, then tipping her head, conceded, "maybe. It's not like I'm not happy, just... And this goes no further either." Esme nodded, and she flashed a smile. "It's just like... What if I never get that, you know?"
Esme, concerned now about the way the conversation was going, abandoned her food completely. "You might not feel like it right now, but once you're changed, you'll only have eyes for him-"
"No," Carys cut in genially. "That's not what I meant. I meant," she said, stabbing a piece of bacon and sighing heavily, "what if Carlisle gets over the initial wanting to rip my clothes off stage before I change? What if we never have sex non-stop for a week? Let alone a ruddy month like you and Luca..."
Esme laughed so hard venom pooled in her eyes, and Carys joined her, but something nagged in the back of her mind - the part of her that had been entirely serious...
As neither of them minded it, they walked almost everywhere that day. Esme had visited London a few times over the years, but she was content to let Carys lead the way, and for her part, Carys found her bearings as easily as if she'd only been there a week before.
It was past lunchtime by the time they'd explored Tottenham Court Road and walked up and down Oxford Street, then moved on to walk down Brook Street and circle around Grosvenor Square. They'd both agreed they were there solely to admire the architecture and history, but had spent half their time working out which houses were settings for their favourite regency romance novels and pretending to promenade. They each knew the Square, for one, had been rebuilt - Esme informed Carys it was in the 1860s, as she hadn't known precisely when - but they pretended it hadn't all the same.
Carys had then fulfilled a childhood dream of ordering from a Savile Row tailor.
They hadn't been too happy that she was ordering her fiancé a bespoke waistcoat without giving them the opportunity to remeasure or discuss fabrics and styles with him, but this was England, they had his measurements on file (curiously enough, the tailor thought, he had the same measurements as his father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and even his great-great-grand-uncle, who had patronised the original tailor all the way back in the early eighteen-hundreds) and she was both polite and able to pay through the nose to have it constructed and delivered by Sunday, so an exception was made.
"Where next?" Esme asked as they left the tailor, heading back along the small road. "Oh, could we take a look at St George's?" she suggested.
"Yes!" Carys said, grabbing her arm and hurrying towards the turn onto Hanover Square, where they could find the church in which countless heroines had wed.
The church was closed, but they admired it from the outside and it didn't dampen their mood in the slightest. After that, Esme flagged down a passing black cab, and they headed towards Kensington.
If she'd been on her own, Carys would have taken the tube. Even after a few years, she knew precisely which lines she'd need to get to the museums, but the Underground would be packed by then, and it wouldn't have been comfortable for Esme.
"I love London with you," Carys admitted, turning to her friend after watching the buildings shift and change around them as they moved out of the City. "And it's not just because you love the combination of old and new as much as I do."
Esme grinned, wrapping her arms around Carys a little awkwardly as she was pretending to be human and their seatbelts and the empty space between them restricted movement.
"I'm having just as much fun," she assured her, though her reaction had already all but said the same. "However..."
"Yes...?" Carys asked when Esme drew back.
"I suppose our continued enjoyment. And friendship," Esme said, emphasising each sentence with a nod of her head. "Rests on your answer... Can we visit the Natural History Museum to see both Dippy and the dinosaur exhibit?"
Carys noticed the driver checking her expression in the rearview mirror, as interested in her answer as Esme was.
"Erm... Can you ever go there and miss those?" Carys asked with a questioning frown. "That's like saying we're not going to complain about the steps or contemplate climbing the staircase."
The driver shook his head. "Yeah, loves," he called back to them in an East End accent Carys had already confirmed with him originated in Leytonstone, a few miles from where she grew up. "Reckon you're right about that. You'd be mad to miss Dippy - not like y'can, of course! Great big effing dinosaur in the middle of the hall." The way he said hall made it sound like 'ole.
"I mean, yes! And - there are animatronic velociraptors to boot," Carys chimed in excitedly.
"Thank you," Esme called ahead, grinning widely as she included the driver in her response. "I'm glad we all agree."
The driver returned his attention to the slow-moving traffic, and the cab inched ahead. "If we ever make it outta this bloody traffic," he complained, throwing a hand up to wave a bike past.
Carys and Esme grinned and shared a look as he descended into a mini-rant about the state of drivers, road works, and later, how he supposed there was one good thing about the congestion charge.
"If we go there first," she said quietly to Esme once they'd made out the other side and sped up, "we could visit the Earth Hall, and - you haven't been on the earthquake simulator, have you...?" Esme shook her head. "I swear you'll love it - it's a whole thing." Indicating by stabbing at the air with her index finger, she bit her lip and thought. "Then..."
"I'd like to visit the Science Museum if we have time?" Esme asked. Carys nodded enthusiastically, and she went on, "Perhaps we could spend what's left of the afternoon at the V&A?"
It was precisely what they did. As the V&A was open until ten pm on a Friday, they ended up spending far more time circling the various exhibits than they had over anything else. They were both happy to find that it was yet another common favourite of theirs.
At one point, Esme all but dragged Carys over to one display, where Carys removed one of her earrings to agree they looked similar to a pair in the case - from the turn of the nineteenth century. She did the same to Esme when she realised she would have worn dresses and shoes much like those in another exhibit about the early twentieth.
By the time they made it back to their connecting rooms at the hotel at around eight, Carys was exhausted from lack of sleep and a day of walking. She was about to suggest she ordered room service and they hung out in her room until she fell asleep, when Esme announced they had late dinner reservations at the Savoy.
"And who's paying for that?" Carys laughed, though her excitement had been reignited by the prospect. "You?"
If she wasn't mistaken, that made four things from the list of things she wanted to do before her transformation in one day.
Esme, laughing along, reached into her shoulder bag and removed a black card, which she presented to Carys with a flourish.
Mrs Carys Ivy Thornvale-Cullen
Carys took the card slowly, reading the name over and over. It was so foreign to her to see written down. How had he done it so quickly? She'd only officially settled on the name a few days before.
"One. I have to pay for this!? Two." Carys leapt from her bed and jumped about. "I'm rich! I'm rich! I'm rich!" Skidding to a stop in front of Esme after she'd all but run at her, she brandished the card in the chuckling vampire's face. "See that!? Black means rich people money! Guess who's gettin' dessert? Ah, this woman!" Pointing to herself, she cocked a hip and laughed.
Esme gave up trying to explain, that "it's only a temporary card on one of Carlisle's accounts, and it does have a limit," after Carys asked her what that limit was, then sank to the floor clutching her chest and gasping for air when she replied, "I think that account has a couple of billion in it."
Sitting down to dinner half an hour later, Carys decided her eating for one diet could start on Monday. This weekend she was rich enough to eat for three if she so wished it, which, looking at the menu, she realised she did.
Saturday dawned bright and early, though the cloud cover remained low and strong enough that as long as they were under cover between twelve and one-thirty, they could occupy themselves however they wanted. It was a good thing they weren't going to be restricted to their rooms. They both needed the distraction.
Carys had woken up that morning to find Esme was just as worried about the day ahead as she was. So much so that she began to wonder if Carlisle hadn't suggested they go together just to keep each other's spirits up.
He called as soon as Carys was out of bed - he must have asked Alice to keep an eye out for her. They were eight hours ahead in London, which meant he had no real news to give her, but they talked for a while, then Esme took the phone, returning it with a worried expression after a few moments.
Carys said her goodbyes and hung up.
"Is there something he didn't want to worry me about?" she asked, surprising Esme out of her reverie.
Esme shook her head and patted Carys' knee. "No, not at all," she promised with a sigh.
"Do you wish you were there?"
"I wish Victoria wasn't... I worry about them is all."
"Come on," Carys said, hopping off the side of her bed and heading for the bathroom, deciding that they both needed something to occupy them - something they could lose themselves in. "Let's get ready to go. I know how to make us feel better."
"This is supposed to make us feel better?" Esme asked later, glancing at Carys before staring up at the portrait again.
They were standing in the National Gallery, in front of The Execution of Lady Jane Grey.
Carys answered when the question registered, about half a minute later. Turning her head, she said, "Sorry. What were you saying?"
Esme was, by now, staring openly at her. "Nevermind," she dismissed, indicating the painting with a nod of her head. Her sleek caramel blonde ponytail flowed and swung back into place. "You really do love it, don't you? It's heartbreaking, but you have this... Warmth about you - as if it somehow cheers you up."
"It's not sad," Carys denied gently, returning her gaze to the painting. "Not if you look at Jane... It's peaceful... The ladies-in-waiting are mourning; the men? They're determined or interested in her reaction, but Jane... She's ready, I think. I know you can't see her eyes, but she's the most serene of all of them... She's feeling for the block, knows her death is close, but she's not exactly scared anymore... It's almost as if she's past and above it all already. She accepts it's there, just out of reach, and it'll be over soon... That's my interpretation, anyway."
Esme gazed up at Lady Jane Grey. After a while, she nodded just enough for Carys to catch it out of the corner of her eye. Carys' lips twitched.
"And you really used to sit here staring at this as a little girl?"
"Yes. I've always loved it."
Esme declined to respond, though her eyebrows raised minutely. Carys fought the urge to grin and lost herself in the portrait once more.
"Can I show you a favourite of mine?" Esme asked, almost an hour later. "It's not far. I think you'll like it just as much as I do."
Tearing her gaze away, Carys rolled her shoulders and nodded, blinking rapidly as the world sprang back to life around her. "Lead the way."
Esme's choice was far less morbid than Carys' - Botticelli's Venus and Mars, but she was right - Venus was just as captivating, just as serene. It was Esme's turn to lose herself in the painting whilst Carys appreciated the beauty of it. Looking at the painting was different for Esme - she could see how Botticelli moved across the canvas, every lighter or bolder brushstroke - and as he was a personal favourite, she explained she liked to examine how he painted each of his masterpieces. It made her feel closer to the artist, to the painting.
Venus and Mars depicted Venus lying across from her lover Mars, watching on as four baby satyrs played with his helmet and armour, or attempted to rouse him from sleep by being as loud as possible.
"Some interpret the satyrs as incubi," Esme observed after a while, pointing to each of them in turn. "Carlisle likes to think of them as cambions - mythical half-demon, half-human offspring." After glancing about, she lowered her voice. "He had to judge enough suspected ones as normal babies when he was human, I suppose there's no arguing with him."
Carys smiled, nodding. She was well informed of Carlisle's human occupation of clergyman and mythical creature investigator, and half-demon children were written about and debated so thoroughly throughout the myths and legends of Britain, it would be hard not to come across them at some point in her life. She didn't know as much as Carlisle, but she did know about the idea of them, changelings, and Merlin's heritage at least.
"I can see that," she admitted. "With the horns and everything. Venus looks as if she's only been up for a while and she's just about fed up with them all already, and Mars looks like he's utterly exhausted. I mean, yes, they're supposed to have just had sex and he's having a nap, but he looks more like he's just been up all night with quadruplet half-demon toddlers."
They lost track of time throughout the day, visiting the galleries around Trafalgar Square, slowly making their way through them. Such was their absorption that they'd arrived at the National Gallery at ten, and left the National Portrait Gallery at four to finally make their way back.
That night, Carys ordered room service. Dinner at the Ritz - another tick, she thought to herself as she tucked into her beef wellington.
As neither of them could sleep - one, ever, the other, until she had news - they stayed in Esme's room throughout the night, occupying themselves by watching films and discussing the series of books Esme had finished on the plane, which Carys had recommended to her two days before.
Around one or so in the morning, Esme's phone rang, and she shared a look with Carys before accepting the call, holding the phone to her ear.
Carys held her breath.
Esme sighed happily, the tension leaving her body. Carys relaxed for seeing it.
"She's right here if you want to... Oh, Carlisle, did you really think she was going to be able to-yes, alright. I'll speak to you soon."
Esme handed Carys the phone and left the room in an instant.
"I would have thought you'd finally be suffering from jetlag by now," Carlisle said, his smooth voice lending itself well to mild disbelief. "How is it that you're still awake?"
"A mystery of massive proportions," Carys agreed, "until you think about how I slept on the plane for a bit and stayed up all day yesterday. You underestimate the power of excitement and fear, my friend. I'm riding on adrenaline and coffee."
"Coffee... I've been thinking about that."
"You have?"
"Yes. Are we sure it's not same as unicorn blood - that with it you're cursed to live a half-life?"
"Probably," Carys conceded, dropping back against the pillows. "So, am I supposed to accept Esme's smile as proof you're all fine? 'Cause the way Emmett was going about things last week, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't mind-"
Esme was suddenly standing at the side of the bed, shaking her head. "Out," she said, pulling Carys' legs round until she was halfway off the bed.
"Hold on," Carys told Carlisle, who was curiously silent. He was probably laughing. She tried her most sincerely apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Esme, I didn't mean to suggest you'd be okay with Emmett dying."
"I was more concerned with not letting that spider get in your hair."
Carys jumped up, threw the phone onto the bed, and began patting herself all over. It was only when Esme let her laughter show that she realised what she'd done. "You'll pay for that" she warned.
Esme simply continued to laugh, returned the phone to her, and ushered her through to her own room.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Launching herself onto her back in the middle of her own bed, Carys held the phone to her ear again. "Did you hear that?" she grumbled.
"Every word," Carlisle said, sounding distinctly amused.
"The disrespect... Well? What happened with Victoria? Did you get her? Did the wolves?"
Carys could imagine Carlisle shaking his head and rubbing his forehead when he sighed, "No. She was smart enough and knew enough to switch regularly between our land and theirs. If we're going to have any hope of catching her, I think we'll have to see if we can work together... Alice doesn't see her coming back any time soon, and not everyone's on board-"
"You mean no one's on board apart from us? And, I mean, also Seth. So us, and a super lovely fifteen-year-old on the other side?"
"Exactly." Carlisle's smile lifted his words. "We should talk more about it when you get home. I'll come to pick you both up when you land at five."
They were flying back in the early afternoon, which would mean they'd arrive back at Forks Airport twelve hours after they left London, but only four hours after their departure time with the time difference involved. Just the thought of how it worked made Carys wonder if she couldn't suddenly get jetlag after all from the calculations alone.
"Alright," she said, shuffling into a new position. "But you're not hurt at all?"
"No, I wouldn't worry about that, darling. We all made it out entirely unscathed."
"Not at all...?" she prompted slowly. "There's nothing you'd specifically need me to kiss better...?"
"No!" Esme called through, having cracked the door just enough that Carys could hear her horrified voice without having to strain her ears. "Please remember I can hear you, and whilst we can talk about things involving other people, that's my brother you're talking to."
Carys blushed apologetically, having not thought of the vampire's hearing for a moment. "Sorry, Esme... Lovely?" she asked when the door had clicked shut again.
"If you're about to say that you should probably get some sleep, I'm inclined to agree," Carlisle responded. "You'll need it."
The line clicked dead, and Carys buried her face in her pillow to muffle her laughter as best she could. Then, rolling onto her back once again, she caught sight of the clothes cascading from her weekend bag onto the chest of drawers opposite her bed. Unlike Esme, she'd neither bothered to unpack nor made sure her clothes were neatly folded.
"Esme?" she called through. Esme poked her head in, and Carys adjusted herself to better see her. "Is it going to be sunny tomorrow, do you know?"
"In the afternoon," she said, interestedly, "but not until we've taken off. What were you thinking?"
"D'you fancy a run 'round Green, St James's, and Regent's Parks?"
Esme considered for a moment or two. "I haven't brought anything to wear on a run."
Neither had Carys, though Esme's issue was more about appearance and hers was genuine comfort.
"Alright, d'you fancy going shopping when Oxford Street opens, then going for a run?"
"It would be cutting it fine with Sunday trading," Esme said, averting her gaze as she thought through the possibilities. "If we're waiting when the shops open, I suppose there's time... How fast do you run?"
Carys bit her lip. That was the problem. She didn't know anymore.
"It's only about five or so miles," she said. "Shouldn't take more than... Forty-five minutes at most?"
If it took longer than that, she'd be disappointed in herself. Was it possible she could slip that much in a couple of months?
"Alright," Esme agreed. "If we're a little late getting back, the plane has a shower in the back."
Carys' jaw, yet again, dropped. How had she missed that on the way there?
A/N: Thank you to: DxGRAYxMAN, BMBMDooDooDoo- Doo- Doo (They're hopefully going to get there, but they're very set in their ways, those two!), jhaenox, Ella (she's gonna find out soon, and she's NOT gonna be happy! Honestly, don't get me started on Bella... We'd be here for a long time haha!), Estene (Happy Holidays! Thank you, I hope you have a lovely time too!), ViciousGingerLady, LizzyB (love her!), souverian, Jar- of- puzzles, naenae312020, and Love. Fiction. 2020 for your reviews!
