Hi everyone!

New update! Reasons for being so late: aside from rewriting this entire chapter because it wasn't good enough for my taste (need to keep my content as awesome as I can for you guys!) I am working a new job, and things have been absolutely insane. A good kind of insane, because it's an amazing job, but insane nonetheless. I appreciate each and every one of you still commenting, liking, subscribing, following and favoriting, even if it's not a weekly update anymore. Thank you all, you make my day each day and I am so grateful for you guys!

Quick recap: some Ron and Nicky love, Harry having trouble with this whole press situation, a very, very frightening letter (and some M-rating applies to the threats and language in this chapter as well! TW for abusive language!), and some nice smut at the end in a special outfit.

Thanks to everyone who reads this! You are amazing and I hope you have a great day, wherever you are!

Love,

Flora.

Chapter 33: How Harry wanted to kill a certain Prophet journalist even more - part 2

'I'll have her hang, drawn and quartered. I see no other option,' the red-head spoke with a carrying voice. His best friend chuckled.

'You'd be an awful Minister for Magic, Ron.'

'But an awesome dictator, don't you think?'

Harry laughed out loud. These crazy remarks by his old friend were precisely what he needed.

This morning, Harry hadn't been so sure whether he'd be able to get in a good mood again. He didn't mind being slandered by The Prophet – he was used to it by now – but it was the fact that they had invaded in his privacy, their privacy, in a way he hadn't experienced before that made his blood boil. He was thick skinned – he had been called crazy, insane, mentally unstable and all kinds of other insults. When he began dating Ginny – and then, when his stupid, insecure actions caused him to find solace in girls that admired him for his image – The Prophet went downright vile in some of their articles. But still, they kept their distance to some degree. Yes, they interviewed friends and relatives and tried to coax the girls into testaments about their nights together – which they, sometimes, succeeded in, causing other articles that made Harry especially focused on his work as an Auror. But they never invaded the privacy of his home, they never held stake-outs in front of his house or took photos against his will.

Now they did. And not only that, these attacks didn't just concern him. They concerned the most important person in his life. Hermione.

Reading the article, had made him absolutely livid. The remarks they made about her were nothing short of disgusting. And they were so, so wrong. Harry had been doing his best the last couple of months to make Hermione feel loved and appreciated, to show how special and important she was. He feared that this one article managed to smash all that work into pieces. He didn't care if he got hurt, but they needed to get their hands off of her. She didn't deserve to be dragged into this mess. If only she had chosen someone else, if only she wasn't dating "The Chosen One"…

And that was just the article. He expected that Jacky Simone wasn't aware of the repercussions of her writings, because no person with a soul could stomach the hatred that had lain on his desk, splayed out in horrifying letter after letter, the next more damaging and controlling than the one before.

Then again, he wasn't so sure Jacky Simone had had a soul to begin with.

'Well, if your dictatorship includes a ban on The Prophet's "Entertainment"-branch, I'll let you,' Harry proceeded his conversation.

'Goes without saying,' Ron nodded, glad that he managed to cheer up his friend. 'And I'll tether Jacky Simone's head to the front of the building, just as a warning sign.'

'Sounds tempting,' Harry said, bemused. 'While you're at it, I have a list of people that found it necessary to send me and Hermione the most vile threats in writing over the last few days. Want to take care of them too?'

'Oh damn - like when Skeeter fibbed that you and Hermione dated in fourth year? You're kidding!'

Harry nodded and reached into his coat. He brought two letters to Ron – one to have fun with, one to seriously discuss.

'Here. You'll enjoy reading this one, I'm sure. This one is not as vile – it's just gross.'

As on cue, Nicky entered the room while Harry passed his red-headed friend the note. Her belly was clearly showing now, round and prominent beneath her woollen dress.

'Please read it out loud,' she said, as she sat next to her fiancé. Harry smiled at her and gave her an assuring look.

'Did you sleep okay?'

'Yes, I did. These two already have me knackered,' she joked, rubbing her belly. 'Come on, Ron! With your best voice!'

'Right,' Ron said, as he cleared his throat. 'Here goes!

"Dear Mister Potter (or Harry, may I call you Harry?).

My loins have been burning with desire ever since I saw your face in The Prophet for the first time, some 8 years ago. Many nights, I fantasized about having your-..."

You know what, I'm not finishing that.'

Nicky cackled and Harry grinned as he watched his best friend pull a disgusted face.

'Oh, come on, Ron! We want all the juicy details!'

'No, no – you certainly do not!' Ron said, skimming the rest of the text. 'Babies also develop hearing when they're in the womb, I'd rather not expose them to this-… Oh, Merlin!'

Harry laughed out loud now, knowing what Ron was reading.

'Tell us!' Nicky insisted. 'Or paraphrase it at the very least.'

'She's… Estimating the length and width of certain body parts and where they will fit inside of her own and at which rhythm she'd like to – oh, Merlin Harry, this is gross…'

'Told you,' Harry said.

'Right, and after all the sex-talk? Or is that all there is to it?' Nicky asked eagerly.

'Let's just say that at the end, she implies that Harry "deserves better than" and then she calls Hermione something I'm definitely not repeating. Bonus though, at the end, I'll read this out loud: "P.S. However, if you do feel serious about dating this woman, you might want to know that I'd be a very willing to complete all your tricycle fantasies..." And then she attached a picture, I just...'

Nicky tried to keep a straight face through the PS and blinked innocently as she turned to Harry.

'Ah. So, what are you going to reply to her?' she teased, feigning normalcy.

'I don't even know what she means with this "tricycle-talk"...' Harry mumbled, 'although I can-…'

'That's when you-…'

'Babies develop hearing in the womb!' Ron yelled loudly, causing the two of them to burst out in laughter again.

Nicky looked at the photo of the woman that Ron passed her, as Harry took the other letter out of his pocket. His hand was trembling a bit as he held it in his hand, the chicken scratch writing slightly showing through the thin parchment.

'She isn't that ugly though, but she does wear very low-cut dresses… Oh, another letter?' Nicky asked, placing the picture of the girl back on the table.

'Yes,' Harry said, feeling his voice involuntarily croak. 'Ehm, yes. This one isn't so fun, though. This is… One of the more serious ones.'

Both of his friends picked up the tone in his voice immediately as Ron took the letter from Harry's hand. He splayed it across the table, so he and Nicky could both read it at the same time. Harry's eyes fell on the letter again as well, absorbing the wretched handwriting one more time.

"Granger - THIS IS A WARNIGN. Break of your fling with that muggle-slut Harry Potter or somtning bad wil happen to you nd you're family. It's bad enough you mudbloods run around, fucking like rabbits. Your disgusting. The Potter blood doesnt need anymore muggle trash. If you ever get pregant, we WILL kill you and the thing that grows inside of you WE WILL KILL THAT TO. Not one of you should spreat you're filthy, contaminetad blood any further! THIS IS A WARNING I REPAET. YOU WIL END THIS RIGHT NOW AND IT WILL BE IN THE PAPERS SOON OR YOU WIL PAY!"

The first time Harry had opened the letter, his blood had run cold. He remembered staring at the page in their office - a vile, horrific letter full of ink blots and spelling errors and hatred. He knew that people who wrote letters like these, were hardly ever serious. Training had taught him: dogs that bark, rarely bite. It's the ones that are quiet, that are dangerous. But that didn't matter right then - the logical part of Harry wasn't able to think straight as he read the letter again and again, those hateful words burning through his chest, thinking about how awful this all was, how this society would never accept Hermione for who she was, only because her parents - her sweet, doting, supporting, amazing parents - were born magicless. She was The Brightest Witch, she was the savior of the Wizarding World, but to some people, she would never be more than the status of her blood.

As a teenager, Harry had trouble understanding how privileged he was. He was raised in abuse, by the most horrible Muggles on the planet, but quickly he learned that the reputation of his parents and his ancestors meant that he was respected. His name opened doors and gave opportunities. Hermione was raised in warmth and love, but she was shunned. She always worked twice as hard for anything, but more often than not, doors had been shut in her face. Greengrass in particular had given her the cold shoulder for the first few months of her career - she'd broken down during one of their lunches once, crying that she just didn't know what to do. Greengrass came around in the end, when he saw how amazing she was in what she did, and Harry liked to think it taught him a lesson. But this letter, this proof of racism and bigotry, made it all the more clear to him that Hermione would always have to look over her shoulder.

The faces of Nicky and Ron told him everything he needed to know.

'How many of these letters are there?' Nicky asked.

'I counted fifteen today,' Harry said. 'That was before I turned so mad that I had to quit. Hermione kind of forced me to go to your place – she saw that I didn't take it well.'

'She saw that you didn't take it well?' Ron asked with a trembling voice. 'How are you to take this, then?'

'It's all big words, Ron' Harry explained. 'People who write things like these just want to scare the shit out of us, they're not actually going to harm anyone-…' But his friend pushed the letter away from him, his freckled face distorted, like he was suddenly sick to his stomach.

'Are threats like this common?' Nicky asked with a small voice. She was rubbing her belly possessively, looking concerned at Harry. Nicky was a Muggleborn too.

'Threats are just threats, Nick. These idiots have the luxury of spewing this nonsense on paper without getting caught. They want to hurt, that is their goal. They do it for shock value. Hate crimes against Muggleborns have been declining every year since the fall of Voldemort, I promise you.'

'I don't care whether they mean it or not – these people need to be arrested,' Ron said, voice still trembling. 'If they can think things like these, if they can write them down-…'

'We have to be vigilant,' Harry said, nodding. He hated this. He hated every part of this conversation. 'That's why I'm showing you this. Now Hermione and I are in the picture, no doubt people will pay somewhat more attention to the two of you as well. I want you to be safe. You are family to me, you mean a great deal to me. If something happens to you, I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

I went to the Auror Department. They're trying to trace every letter, and I know they'll be serious about it. If you want protection – I can arrange for that. I'll pull some strings and we'll have the best Aurors posting outside your building in no time.'

'We'll be fine,' Nicky said, with a thin smile. Ron looked like he wanted to protest, but Nicky put her hand over his. 'It's hard, but we've faced prejudice for as long as I can remember. I've never felt unsafe here and we have measures to keep outsiders out anyway. But thank you, Harry.'

Harry nodded, somewhat relieved, and he looked at Ron, who couldn't muster the strength to crack a joke anymore. He saw his redheaded friend stroke his soon-to-be-wife over her belly, soft circular motions, already intensely protective of his twins.

'Are you afraid?' Nicky asked, looking at Harry.

He shook his head.

'No. Just disturbed. And it's just… It just really sucks that this is the way Hermione and I are introduced to the world as a couple. It's our fault, I know it is, but for once, I just wanted our lives to be normal, you know? And I know that sounds childish and irresponsible, but-…'

'I don't think it's childish or irresponsible,' Nicky said gently. 'I think you deserve to come forward about your relationships on your own terms. I know the Wizarding World treats you like some kind of Crown Prince, like some kind of poster child. But you didn't choose that life. I think it's very normal that you want to ignore that part of your life every once in a while. Especially when things are so new and when you are finally truly happy about something. It's sad that you're not granted that bit of normalcy.'

'Yes, well,' Harry said, with a faint smile, admiring how wise and calm Nicky was amidst all the chaos. 'Let's say it's a lesson learned. I'll inform you if we track anyone down who is serious about harming pregnant Muggleborns. But right now, I just want to vent and rage and be very angry at that nosy Jacky-person.'

'Right,' Ron said, finally being able to shake his trembling voice, strengthened by the demeanour of his girlfriend. 'So, about the hanging, drawing and quartering – where should we start exactly?'

They made dinner together. Or, to be more exact, Harry made dinner of the food Ron prepped, while Nicky ordered them around from her chair. They talked about Jacky Simone some more, but Nicky found the boys were getting too riled up and was very subtle in coaxing them away from the subject of assigning bodily harm to a journalist. It didn't take long for them to start their friendly bantering, like they were used to, and Harry just finished the dish as Nicky spoke to change the subject once again.

'So,' Nicky hesitated, as Harry put the quiche in the oven. 'Ron told me about... plans you had for Hermione...'

Harry looked at Ron, who turned red and pretended to be very busy with putting the filthy kitchen equipment in the sink.

'Ehh-... What plans?' he responded, hoping to the heavens that Ron hadn't discussed their sex life with his fiancée.

'Well, that you were thinking of... Popping the question...'

Now it was Harry's turn to blush.

'Ah, yes, well... I have, lately, yes.'

'Oh my God! Tell us!' Nicky chirped, looking far too excited. It made Harry laugh, seeing his friend so invested in his love life.

'Don't tell Hermione, obviously, but I plan on going to Gringotts. To my parents' vault, to be exact.'

'Why?'

'Well, I figured... In this scheme we have, I transfigured this ring that we both called an old Potter heirloom. And I have been wondering - dad probably proposed to mom too, right? She must have worn either her wedding ring or their engagement ring when they died. If they wore anything of interest, it must be in my vault.'

'That's perfect!' Nicky squealed. 'She'd love that, I know she would-...'

'Hold on,' Ron said. 'You're talking about the vault? The vault that you've been avoiding like the plague since you became of age and were allowed access to it?'

'Well, yes...' Harry said, nervously. 'It was too painful for a long time to see all the family stuff that I was never a part of because of... what happened, you know. But since I'm with Hermione's family, I don't feel so... Alone, anymore. I guess. Does that make sense? It's actually made me curious to my own family history in a way. I know I had uncles and aunties too - from Dad's side, mostly. It will be less painful now. Especially since I...'

He flushed a bit more as he untied his apron.

'Since I know I want to make my own family with her someday.'

It sounded so utterly childlike out of his mouth, and it didn't really help that Ron and Nicky made an "aww!"-sound in unison. It made him a even more red, as he tossed his apron in Ron's face.

'Don't you take the mickey out of me, Weasley,' Harry laughed. 'You were just as horrible and sappy when you started dating Nick...'

'Incredibly true,' Nicky laughed. 'Even I thought it was too much sometimes!'

She winked at him and slapped his butt, causing Ron to yelp and then grin.

'But that sounds great, Harry! I'm sure Hermione will absolutely love it-...'

A swoosh sound made them turn their heads, and they saw the bushy hair of their brightest friend walk through the door.

'I'll absolutely love what?' she asked, leaning into Harry for a quick "hello"-kiss.

'Oh, ehm-... The next charm I've been planning to get you for your bracelet,' Harry lied, smoothly. 'Don't ask too much about it though – you wouldn't want the surprise to get spoiled!'

Ron made an approving sign at him behind Hermione's back, and mouthed "nice safe!". Luckily, Nicky stepped in, asking Hermione to show her bracelet, which proved a good distraction, as Hermione didn't ask about the question again.

Phew! Harry was nervous enough already about the thought of proposing to her - he didn't need her to find out about it as well!

It was half past nine when Harry and Hermione flooed back to their apartment. They made and arrangement with Luna to do the interview, got the contact information of Nicky's sister, had a good laugh with Nicky and Ron and managed to cheer themselves up again. Today had been tough – maybe the toughest day in their relationship so far, but Harry and Hermione both knew that they would overcome this together. That's what they did, after all.

'So, Miss Granger,' Harry said, purposefully dropping his voice as soon as they left the hearth. 'I think you asked me something in your office today and I would hate to not do as I promised…'

Hermione turned towards him with one arched eyebrow.

'I know. But don't you… I don't know, aren't you worried? Don't you want to discuss things, now we're at home together? Now we're alone?'

The truth was, he did. But Harry didn't like talking. He felt guilty enough as it was, putting Hermione in harm's way – that's how he felt, after all – and he knew that as soon as he started cracking jokes, his walls had come down and closed off real contact. Right now, he wanted distraction. He wanted to lose himself into psychical contact, drown himself in feelings of lust and sex and madness, until the stormy clouds in his brain decided to lay down and allow him to open up a bit.

He looked at her, with an expression that showed just enough of his vulnerability – she would pick up on that, he knew that for certain - and smirked slightly.

'All I want right now is to put my head between your thighs,' he murmured in his low voice. 'You know how much I like to claim you as an after dinner snack.'

Hermione blinked serenely, with a soft smile, but as soon Harry swept her in his arms and crashed his lips into hers, she couldn't hold back a snicker.

'Puppy,' she mumbled against his lips, and he grinned against her, before silencing her with his tongue. Hermione moaned in their embrace, causing chills to race through his spine, as he deepened the kiss further to taste her fully. Yes, he thought, as he felt tingles rush through his extremities, this is what I meant.

Her lips would never bore him. They were soft and sweet and tasted of the chocolate cake Nicky served them before they went home. He weaved his fingers through her wild locks, slightly stroking her hair, as he felt her push against him, causing their cores to meet. He gasped - an audible, desiring gasp, telling her just how much he loved the friction. Gasps weren't really that manly, he knew, but she would cause sounds to come out of his throats that he couldn't hold back.

He claimed her, ravishing her mouth, then marking her throat with sloppy kisses and slight grazes of his teeth. They stumbled to the bedroom together, Hermione allowing Harry to lead her to the queensized bed, surrendering to his administrations. When he dropped them both on the bed, the air was pushed out of their lungs for a second, and they gasped for air, laughing out of awkwardness and breathing labouredly out of sheer want.

'Tonight, I will give you everything,' Harry heard himself whisper into her ear, as soon as they stopped giggling. 'Ask whatever from me and I'll do it. I promise.'

He felt his excitement grow as his breath tickled her ear. He had done this trick before with other girls, and for a while now, he thought about asking the same to Hermione. He loved being vulnerable in a way, exposing himself to requests like that, allowing someone else to decide what was going to happen. The standard response was usually "fuck me", or something along those lines, but it was the slight rush of possibilities that made this so thrilling. Hermione deserved a blank cheque for tonight – he had caused her enough grief with the article to give her a thousand.

He moved away from her ear, looked her in the eyes with an expression that should have been confident, and expected a very quick answer from her – something like oral sex, or a massage – but he was very surprised when Hermione batted her eyes a few times and then grinned.

'You're sure? I can ask you to do anything and you'll do it?'

Oh Merlin – she looked mischievous. He knew she read it in his face that he hadn't anticipated this, but she remained silent, feigning an inquisitive gaze.

'Well-…' he began. 'I mean – yes, of course. I trust you.'

'So,' she said, slowly unbuttoning the first few rows of his shirt, 'if I ask you to undress for me and run outside to give the reporters a nice scoop for tomorrow-…'

They both laughed loudly at the same time. Maybe it was the craziness of the situation, but it took them at least a minute to calm down, as Harry thought yet again how bloody lucky he was. She was amazing.

'If you insist,' he finished with a wide grin. 'I mean, I promised, and I don't break my promises.'

'I would never ask you that,' Hermione assured him with a smile, and she pulled him closer to kiss her. He lost himself in her lips again, tasting her and pressing against her, tenderness and eagerness battling over dominance. He didn't know whether to go slow and soft or feverish and wanting – he wanted it both at the same time and her hands, her smell, her mouth was overwhelming.

'I have a request,' she gasped, as they broke apart, both of their lips a bit sore from all the snogging. 'But it's a bit weird, and-… Well, I would appreciate it if you don't judge me.'

'That sounds intriguing,' Harry chuckled. 'What is it?'

'Do you-… Oh Merlin, no, never mind-…'

Hermione turned red – even redder than she already was – and pursed her lips in an awkward smile.

'Yes,' Harry grinned. 'Tell me.'

'No, it's-…' she stammered, her face resembling the colour of an overripe tomato.

'I'm not going to stop pestering you until I know now,' Harry furthered, with a broad smile. 'What is it?'

'Well… Fine. Do you still… I mean, did you keep…'

Hermione started giggling a bit – something Harry found hilarious, because he had only seen Hermione giggle a handful of times in his life.

'What?'

'Your-… Your Quidditch robes…'

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

'Yes, yes I do. Do you want me to-…'

'Forget I said it,' Hermione said, almost unable to stop giggling nervously. 'I'm sorry – it's just something from when we were in school, and whenever you wore it, I-…'

'Say no more,' Harry said, jumping up from the bed. 'It's in my school trunk. I brought it here a few weeks ago, let me go and find it.'

When he came back, Harry was awfully conscious of how he had grown. The last time he wore it was during his sixth year, and while he didn't grow in length, he had broadened a lot around the shoulders, the arms and legs, making it uncomfortably tight at some spaces, mainly the trousers. He choose not to wear the winter hoodie, because the less clothing the better, but he did put on the long sleeved breathable dark-red sportshirt, the long red and gold robes with number 7 on the back and front, the arm and leg braces and the tight dark-gray sport trousers that had never been good at hiding erections to begin with.

Luckily, he wasn't a 15-year old competing against Cho Chang anymore. He was with Hermione, and he knew she preferred his erection not being hidden at all.

'Oh my God,' Hermione laughed, as Harry peeked around the door and entered the room. 'It still fits, Harry!'

'Barely,' Harry joked, as he walked towards her. 'How do I look?'

'Really hot,' Hermione said unashamedly, as she stood up from the bed, walking towards him. 'I just… Thank you, for being silly enough to do this for me.'

'Hey, a promise is a promise,' he replied, with a sweet smile. 'And,' he added, a lot quieter this time, 'I don't mind playing dress-up for you. It is exciting.'

She smiled as they kissed again, and he felt her hands roam over the front of his robes, tracing his body with the palm of her hands. He murmured against the kiss, encouraging her to explore a bit more boldly, as she traced the lines of his back. Slowly but steadily, she moved her hands under the robes, dragging her fingers over the polyester top, causing his nipples to stifle and a snicker to erupt from his throat.

'You really are enjoying this, huh,' he said between kisses, and she muffled his voice with a countering snog. As she pressed her palm firmly against his member, he moaned against her tongue. She didn't allow him to respond with words, as she kept pressing her palm against him, over and over. She was teasing him and Merlin, it was delicious.

As her lips left his, he spoke her name, but she shook her head and placed a finger on his mouth.

'I fantasized about doing something like this so many times,' she said, and he saw her sink to her knees, untying his trousers, pulling the band down and revealing his black boxer short.

'You did?' Harry heard himself answer, mind unclear with the vision that now sat at his feet. She undid the buttons of her blouse, exposing her breasts to him.

'Yes,' she nodded, biting her lip, unsure now she was in the position she anticipated. 'Is this-… Do you mind if I-…'

'Oh, no,' Harry blurted out, 'by all means-…'

By all means?! he scolded himself. What the bloody hell are you doing? You're sure you're not fifteen again?

Luckily, Hermione didn't allow him much time to think about his words. The feeling of his boxers being pulled down and Hermione's tongue tasting him was enough to make him lose all sense of coherent thought. He swore, something he rarely did, and looked down at Hermione, who held him firmly in her right hand and traced the veins on his member with her tongue, teasing him.

They didn't speak for the next few minutes, aside from the moans and words of encouragement that Harry uttered, as she slowly explored his body. She was attentive, careful and curious, kissing his balls and shaft, and when she enveloped her mouth around Harry and took him deep inside of her mouth, after a few minutes, Harry thought he would lose it. She looked absolutely divine, her bushy hair even more frazzled from the snogging, her breasts peeking out of the top of her bra, kneeling on the floor in front of him, wearing her office clothes and her tights. She became more confident, looking him in the eye as she bobbed up and down, looking for a rhythm that would send Harry's eyes turning in his sockets.

She muffled something around him, causing a weird sensation to hum through Harry's body, that caught him off guard.

'What?' he asked, his voice hoarse.

'Guide me,' she said, releasing him. 'Use your hand.'

'You're sure?'

She nodded, excited, as Harry used his hand to comb some of the hair from her face, turning it into a bun on the back of her head, then pushed her gently forward. She purred approvingly, driving him on. He guided her softly to a steady rhythm. God, she was so incredibly sexy and she felt so unbelievably good. She placed her hands on his buttocks, allowing herself to take him in deeper. The sight of her beneath him was almost too much to bear.

'Her-… Herm-…' he faltered, and he felt her chuckle around him. He released her hair, sending it to cascade down again and pulled himself out.

'Hey!' Hermione yelped, offended.

'S-sorry,' Harry stammered, driving the stars that had been cornering his visions out of his head. 'I just-… I want to… I need to… Last…'

'But I wasn't finished yet,' Hermione pouted. 'I thought you said you'd give me everything I wanted-…'

'Yes, but you're too good, it's so intense, if I would have given in I wouldn't have able to do anything but sleep. Unless you want that, to not bury my head between your thighs, like I promised…'

Hermione smirked at him.

'I do want you do… that to me, you know that. Okay, I'll give you a deal. We can do all the fun things in between, but I want to finish you tonight. With my… Well…'

Hermione was still a bit too prude to talk dirty, but Harry loved her all the more for it. He smiled at her.

'Ohh, alright then. You drive a hard bargain, Miss Granger.'

'Such a hard thing to agree on, isn't it, Mister Potter?'

He grinned at her counter and kissed her on the mouth. They would talk – hours and hours, probably. But now it was time to lose himself into the embrace of the love of his life.