A/N: "Finally a short chapter," I say as I stare at the 5500 word count, my eyes wordlessly pleading for help from my own insanity.

Also, I should be packing for my move, yet here I am.

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Étude op.25 no.11 in A Minor - Chopin

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A Sea of Silence

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12: Étude op.25 no.11 in A Minor, "Winter Wind"

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Tifa opens her eyes to soft sunlight. It streams in through the half-closed curtains, the ones she didn't bother with last night. Sheets rustle behind her and the mattress dips; her heartbeat picks up as Cloud shifts around, and she holds in a surprised yelp when he slides her hair away to expose her neck. He runs his hand through the strands, slow and gentle, stopping as he hits a knot.

"Your hair's all tangled," he mumbles.

She gulps down the memory of last night; of his desperate kisses and greedy touches; of her carefully done hair becoming a mess because of him—just how he had wanted it. Her voice is still thick with sleep as she says, "I usually braid it before going to bed."

"I know." Cloud's admission is quiet, a reminder of the time they've spent together, but also of the weeks they were apart.

Tifa turns around to find him half-propped against the headboard; his hand retreats to his side to avoid snagging on her hair. "How long have you been up?"

"Not that long."

His phone chirps on the bedside table, and Cloud grabs it with a disgruntled sigh. Silence settles as he checks the message and types out a reply. Tifa feels the atmosphere shift, not so much from Cloud's reaction to the message, but rather from her own rising burst of anxiety. Without a word, she gets out of the bed and pads for the bathroom. She goes through her routine mechanically in hopes of regaining control of her mind, of her heart. Last night, they went to sleep without talking things out in details; exhaustion had slammed into them both, and they had chosen to let whatever was between them float unresolved and unspoken. Though Tifa finds defining what they are doesn't matter as much as she thought it would have, she still needs stronger reassurance.

When she walks back into the bedroom, Cloud's phone is back on the table; he watches her grab her hairbrush, then climb into the bed and sit next to him. Tifa says nothing as well, wanting him to make the first move. It's only once a minute of quiet has passed that he speaks.

"I'm sorry about yesterday."

Tifa keeps her hands steady as she brushes out the knots in her hair. "About what exactly?"

In answer, he strokes his fingers along the skin of her chest exposed by her tank top. Tifa knows he's looking at the marks he left last night; they're faint and few, but there nonetheless. She doesn't have the heart to tell him there are two more on her breasts, hidden by the fabric.

"I acted like a jealous asshole," he says softly. The reprimand is heavy in his voice, something she had expected.

"You were being a jealous asshole."

His fingers spread as if to cover as much skin as possible, and his thumb brushes the base of her throat. Part of her thinks he doesn't want to look at the marks; the other senses the covetous nature of the gesture, like he has to be the only one to see them. When his hand slips away, a slight tinge of disappointment runs through her.

"You're right." He gives her a slight, apologetic smile.

"So…" Tifa focuses on brushing her hair to help hide the tension she feels. "What happens now?"

He shifts lower on the bed until he's almost laying down; he caresses the sliver of skin between her top and her shorts, his eyes fixated on his hand like he doesn't want to look at her—but Tifa has a hunch it isn't the case. Rather, she thinks he does it to gather his courage; she can't say if that's good or bad, though, and the doubt creeping in makes her still.

"What do you want to happen?" The way he asks her is careful, but not in a way that scares her.

"I want to be with you," she says. Though her hair is still somewhat tangled, she puts the brush down. Pretending to concentrate on something else than their conversation feels too dishonest.

"What you said…" He doesn't specify it, but they both know he's talking about the secret she blurted out during their fight. "You meant it?"

Tifa inhales, then exhales. "Yes."

Cloud is silent at first, but it doesn't worry her; she has the stray thought that maybe it should. They've known each other for long enough now that she understands the way he thinks—and how he needs time to choose his words. When his arm wraps around her waist to have her lean over him, Tifa doesn't dare breathe in case it shatters the moment.

"Come here," he says, quiet and gentle.

She follows along with his cues until she hovers over him, her face inches away from his, her hair cascading around them and cocooning them in soft darkness.

"I want to be with you, too." His confession is hushed, meant for her only, the words trapped within the walls they've built together—there's a certain safety they've found in each other, she thinks. It's something they maybe never sought but instead stumbled upon, and Tifa finds relief in the idea of a sanctuary they made for themselves and only themselves.

"Okay," she whispers. A fear settles inside her, but it's the good kind—she doesn't want to break away from him, from them because the alternative is too scary.

Cloud smiles, pleased and a little shy, before kissing her. It's a quiet kiss, one where there are no more storms raging, no more blurred lines and indecision—there are only calm seas filled with unsaid words and a silence of their own.

"Can I spend the day here?" he asks when they part.

Maybe it's the hopeful note in his voice, or maybe it's the unsure glint in his gaze—Tifa can't decide—but she finds herself unable to deny him, even if she had wanted to. "Yeah, of course."

The remainder of the morning flies past; it's filled with softness and laziness, laughter and music. Once they sit down to study, Tifa realizes she loves the comfort between them in a way she couldn't have before; it must be the flow of honesty that makes this tranquility grounding and surreal at once. There are no other words to describe how this feels to her—she could almost believe it's a dream.

It's in the late afternoon that she realizes something. She observes Cloud as he walks into her bedroom—he mentioned needing a distraction-free environment for this part of his assignment, and though she hadn't protested, it had been tempting to ask him what was distracting him. Curiosity gets the better of her after a while, making it difficult for her to concentrate on her own studies; Tifa puts her textbook and laptop aside and heads into the bedroom. Cloud sits cross-legged on her bed, his computer in his lap; headphones render him unaware of his surroundings, and his eyes don't leave the screen. He barely glances her way when she sits on the edge of the bed next to him; he removes the headphones at her pointed stare.

"Yeah?"

His casual greeting doesn't convince Tifa; if anything, it makes her more intrigued. "Are you alright?"

The way his eyes dart to the marks on her chest and then away from her lets her know he's lying as he replies, "Yeah, I just need to focus."

"Uh-uh." She waits for him to say something else, but he doesn't. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Cloud nods as he puts the headphones back on. Tifa hesitates for a second before standing; as she goes to cross the doorway, she looks over her shoulder just in time to see him lower his head as if caught. The urge to comment on this almost has her twist around, but she goes back into the living room to sit on the couch. Her open textbook on the coffee table is a reminder she needs to study, and yet, she closes it.

Ever since they've started sleeping with each other, she's never known Cloud to be the type to keep his hands to himself. And she thinks the problem might be the newfound definition of their relationship—it's something Cloud doesn't understand, and he's afraid of acting like before, like when they pretended to be nothing more than friends. His reluctance irks her but also reassures her; it's the proof that he does want to do better—and yet, it does nothing but sow doubt in her mind.

Tifa stares ahead of her, her thoughts jumbled as she debates what to do. An idea hits her, and before she can overthink it, she jumps to her feet. Cloud doesn't react beyond a quick glance when she walks back inside the bedroom, and she ignores him, heading for her dresser. It takes her seconds to find what she was searching for, and she's out of the room as quickly as she came in. Once in the bathroom, Tifa lets out a long exhale; the closed door against her back serves as a barrier between the world and her, allowing her to relax. As the tension leaves her body, she pads to the sink and takes in her reflection.

Not feeling like dealing with the leftover tangles in her hair, she weaves a loose and messy braid—this is just to avoid making the knots worse. Her cropped, oversized tank top is enticing enough on its own, she thinks, the low neckline showcasing the top of her breasts—and the marks Cloud can't fully pretend to regret. Tifa steps out of the leggings she'd put on earlier and throws them aside. She stands before the mirror in her top and underwear, taking a second to debate her plan. Seducing Cloud seems like the most harmless thing considering everything they've done together—but there's an unknown element to their relationship that makes her believe she could be wrong about this. Tifa doesn't let herself doubt for long, though; she slips on the black thigh highs she'd grabbed and whirls around.

When she enters the bedroom this time, Cloud doesn't look up, but she doesn't let it deter her; he is studying after all, and for some reason, this makes her actions all the sweeter. Tifa stands still for a second, giving herself one last chance to back out—then climbs on the bed. The movement alerts him, and he raises his head. Tifa would have laughed at the strangled noise of surprise he lets out as she crawls towards him, but her attention is on his eyes as they track her every move.

She stops just shy of touching him as he takes off the headphones; the laptop is what remains between them. With a slight but wicked smile, Tifa asks, "Did you save your assignment?"

He nods, and she closes the laptop; Cloud puts it and the headphones aside but doesn't budge from his spot. It's almost a challenge to her at this point, and Tifa would be lying if she said it didn't exhilarate her—though there's a healthy dose of nervousness, the thrill drowns it out. She closes the remaining distance, caging him against the headboard as she straddles his lap; his hands come up to encircle her waist like he didn't have to think twice about it, and she counts that as a small victory despite his otherwise unnatural stillness.

"Tifa—"

"Why won't you touch me?" she cuts him off softly.

He gulps, and she feels the way his hands tighten on her for a second before he relaxes them. "I don't want you to think that…" His voice trails off when she leans forward until she could kiss him.

"Think what?"

"That it's all there is now," he says, not looking away from her.

Tifa bites her lip to contain an amused smile; she runs her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, stopping when she feels his heartbeat beneath her palm, the pause too long to be accidental. "I know that."

There's an exhilarating kind of satisfaction coursing through when she senses his heart drum faster—it's the knowledge that she isn't alone in this that makes her bold and eager. She grasps both of his hands in hers, forcing them to slide up and up below her top, halting right under her breasts. While she wants nothing more than to bring them higher and to kiss him, she needs him to be the one to cross the invisible line. His fingers twitch against her when she lets go of his hands, but they stay wrapped around her ribcage, warm and welcome.

"I'm telling you it's okay."

A quiet noise escapes him; it sounds a little desperate and a little indecisive, but mostly full of yearning. She notes the way his gaze drifts to the marks on her chest once more; it's only a fleeting look, something she would have dismissed if not for the other occurrences.

"Yesterday," he says, slow and hesitant, "I should have been—"

"Yesterday is already gone, Cloud." Tifa leans forward, nearly closing the remaining distance; the movement causes his hands to shift, and he swallows a groan. "I want you to touch me." She almost holds down her next words; perhaps it's the headiness of the moment or the honesty they've just developed last night—it doesn't matter, really—that kindles her need for him to hear them. "I'm happy right now. I want to drown in that. I want to—" She bites her lip.

"What do you want?" It's the silk of his voice, dragging soft and heavy against her skin, that tells her she's won and gives her the courage to carry on.

"I want to drown in you," she whispers. "And I want you to drown in me."

There is a second of silence where she regrets what she said—regrets being honest in a way she's never been before, not with herself or others. But his fingers dig against her ribs, the almost-painful pressure proof of his yielding—and Cloud brings her closer and into him. In a way, Tifa finds his kiss cruel—it's full of that desperation and yearning she heard earlier, like he can't have enough of her, and fuck, she doesn't want him to ever have enough.

His hands glide down her back and below her panties, over her ass, pushing her hips to meet his again and again. Tifa moans, the sound swallowed in their kiss before breaking away. The way he stares at her as she sways in his lap, dazed and heavy-lidded, is enough to make her believe he's as drunk on her as she is on him.

"This isn't enough," she breathes out. Despite her words, she doesn't stop the movement of her hips, doesn't stop gazing back at him.

"What would be enough?" Cloud kisses her, biting her lip gently as he pulls back. "Why don't you tell me?"

It would be easier for her to hide her face as she answers; to whisper the words in his ear to avoid shyness overtaking her—but the challenge beckons her this time, and she wants nothing more than to show him she needs this and she needs him.

"You touching me." She notices the barely-there smirk forming on his lips, and as he goes to speak, she cuts him off, knowing he would have asked her to elaborate. "Making me come." Tifa drops her hands on his shoulder, her grip tight from the tension building within her.

At her words, his fingers flex on the curve of her ass. "Isn't that what I'm doing?" Cloud leans down to lick one mark then another then one more; his lips drift lower, and her nails dig in the muscles of his shoulders when he drags his tongue over a nipple through the fabric.

"Yes," she says, and it leaves her in a whine. "But I want you to use your fingers and your mouth, too." Cloud looks up at her as if shocked by what she said, but she doesn't think that's what it is; the delighted sparkle in his gaze gives him away, emboldening her. "Then I want you to fuck me."

He whispers her name as she tugs at his shirt to remove it, then discards her own. Her gasp echoes in the space between them when he twists her around so she sits in the cradle of his legs, her back to his front.

"Take those off." The words are almost lost, muffled by her heart beating fast and loud.

"What, the thigh highs?" she teases, resting her head on his shoulder. "I thought you loved those." She's not sure why she's surprised when he retaliates by slipping one hand in her underwear, his still fingers taunting her.

"Not the thigh highs." Cloud gently bites her shoulder as if to chastise her.

He waits for her to slide her panties down; the second she drops them over the edge of the bed, he grabs both of her thighs, spreading her legs. Tifa goes to protest when he places them over his so she can't close them, but she reminds herself this is what she asked—for him to touch her in so many ways. There's something definitely indecent about being exposed like this; it's a thrill that only exponentiates when Cloud's hands glide over her thighs, stopping to caress the skin showing above the thigh highs.

"You good?" he mumbles in her hair. When she nods, he lets out a quiet laugh, his breath tickling her cheek. "I love having you like this for me." Her breathing picks up at his words, and in answer, his hold on her thighs draws taut, fingers digging into the soft skin. "You love it, too, don't you?"

"Uh-uh." It's little more than a sigh, but Cloud hears her.

"Lift your hips a little, yeah?" She does, and one of his hands moves to cup her; Tifa can't contain her whimper at the insistence of his lazy touch—and really, she finds she doesn't care for that anymore, liking the idea of him hearing all he does to her. "You're so wet already, fuck." Cloud tilts her head back with his free hand, just enough to see her face. "Hey, look at me," he says right as he slips two fingers into her. Tifa moans at the sudden sensation but keeps her eyes on his; his satisfied smile is hard to miss. "Good girl," he whispers, his lips brushing her ear. Despite herself, Tifa feels a wave of warmth at the praise, and Cloud chuckles when she clenches down on his fingers. "That's it."

There's something different about him, she thinks as he releases her chin and runs his hand down her chest—something she can't name honestly, maybe because part of her is still scared by all this. Cloud ghosts his knuckles over her nipple before grasping her breast, the slight roughness of the gesture contrasting with the barely-there stroke that made her sigh. And again, she wonders if she's not imagining this fierceness and candor to his touch. He drops his head until his lips are on her neck, not dropping kisses but resting there as if the contact is one he can't do without.

"Cloud—" she breathes out. Her head lolls back against his shoulder as her legs tense in anticipation. "You—you don't—ah—" Tifa lets out a low whine as she comes on his hand, the words she meant to say forgotten. Her gasped "Fuck," as Cloud keeps fingering her sounds too loud despite being hushed. Her nails stab half-moons in his arm like she would stop him but they both know it's not what she wants. "Wait, wait—ah, fuck."

"That's it, Tifa," he says, making her breathing hitch. "Once more."

"Cloud, please, please—" Her whispers are broken by a moan when he bears down on her clit with the palm of his hand. "Stop, Cloud—"

"Hm? You really want that?" The knowing tone of his question betrays his amusement.

Her hips move on their own as if to answer for her, and she feels her body tightening again already as it rides the previous wave of her climax. Still, Tifa forces the words out. "You don't have—ah, to do this."

She can sense his lips curve in a smile against her skin. "What, making you come?"

"Apologize," she pants, her nails digging deeper into his arm. "That's what you're—doing. Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck—" Her gasps trail off into whimpers when he only thrusts harder and faster into her. "I know why you're—" Her eyes close on their own, the pleasure he gives her too much all of a sudden. "I know you," she whispers, her voice husky and a little desperate. "I know you, I—"

His every move becomes wild at once, bringing her closer to the edge. "Let me do this." The roughness coloring his words makes her believe the same desperation grabbed hold of him. "Please, Tifa."

She wants to object, but it becomes impossible as she comes again; the intensity of her climax coaxes a muted shout out of her as Cloud draws it out until her legs shake and she cries out. It's only then that awareness returns to her, and she takes in the wetness of Cloud's hand as it rests on her thigh; the twilight drifting in from outside, warming the world they hid in for the day; the heaviness of her eyes and the indolent way her head hangs on his shoulder; and the brush of his lips against her ear as he says, "Remember I know you, too."

Her pants fill the room, deafening in its silence. Cloud rubs his hands up and down her body, from her arms, around her stomach, along her thighs—it's a gentle, grounding touch, and she allows herself to bask in it for a moment. Tifa groans in relief when he takes hold of her legs and places them back in front of her; she hadn't realized how stiff the muscles had become.

"Thank you," she mumbles.

"We're not done." He chuckles when she twists around to give him a wry look. "You asked for my mouth. And then for me to fuck you."

"I can't—"

"Oh yes, you can," Cloud says softly. He bends forward, forcing her to lean back and onto the bed until he hovers over her. "I'll make you come again." He kisses her, harsh and demanding. "And again."

Tifa rests on her elbows, watching him as he discards his underwear. "You're terrible."

Cloud smirks, kneeling between her legs and then covering her body with his. "Are you really complaining?"

His kiss swallows her reply, and she sighs into his mouth, her arms wrapping around his neck, her hands burying themselves in his hair. When he forces her legs up and out, then pushes into her, Tifa bites her lip at the overload of sensations.

"What do you want?" Cloud asks as he stays still. "You told me before."

"No." His surprise at her protest is obvious, and she lets him stew a second or two, relishing his reaction. "It's my turn to ask," she says, mirth and desire mixing in her voice. "What do you want?"

"You little—" He cuts himself off, laughing, and Tifa smiles. There's a moment where he stares at her—at the marks on her chest, she realizes when he presses his hand against the skin there, spreading his fingers to cover them. "I want to fuck you until you can't take it anymore."

His absent-minded tone makes her believe he means something else but doesn't dare admit it. "Is that all?"

Cloud slams into her without warning, drawing a cry out of her. "No. Fuck, no." He keeps his cruel rhythm up, spreading her legs further.

"Ah—tell me, please, please—" Her request gets lost amongst her pleas, and she lets out a whine when he lets go of one of her legs to stroke her clit with his thumb. "Don't—I can't—" When he doesn't stop and only lightens the pressure, Tifa throws her head back, bringing close to the edge of the bed; she scrambles to grab unto something, anything to ground her but only finds the covers beside her.

"Fuck yeah, you can," he rasps. "I want to feel you, Tifa." She has nothing but pants and moans as an answer for him. "That's what I want."

It hits her hard and at once, his words fueling her need; her back arches off the bed, and she faintly feels Cloud pull out. Tifa twists on her side as her climax carries on, demanding and draining—she barely registers Cloud spreading her open again and leaning down to lick her. It's too much, too intense for both her heart and her body to take—he draws it out, his tongue flattening against her, and this time a short, stifled scream leaves her. Cloud eases away, his hands stroking her side and her back as she catches her breath; she grips the cover still, as if afraid to let go.

Cloud brushes his lips along the curve of her back and up towards her shoulders. "You good?"

She lets her eyes drift closed. "Give me a second."

"Just rest, okay?"

Tifa senses his presence fade, the surrounding air feeling cold and incomplete. She whines in protest, making him pause. "No, you didn't—" Though part of her wants never to have to move again, she pushes up on her knees and opens her eyes, finding Cloud still close but about to get out of the bed. "Your turn."

"It's fine, alright?" He tucks strands of her hair behind her ear; she seizes his hand before he can bring it back to his side, and tugs until he's near. She gives him a slight push so he falls back against the headboard. "Tifa—"

Two can play the game, and she says, "I want this for you," before taking him in her mouth, eliciting a loud groan from him. Cloud reflexively holds her head, and for a moment, she thinks he'll make her break away, but he only tangles his hands in her hair, messing up her braid. Tifa can feel the tension that built in his body about to release, the shallow thrusts of his hips another giveaway. She takes him as deep as she can, relaxing her jaw, and swallows around him, aware of how much he likes that.

"Fuck," he hisses out over and over again as he comes. His hands tighten in her hair, almost painfully but not enough to make her pull away—not until he's done and his hold on her slackens. "Tifa, fuck, you're so—" His words fade into pants as he sags against the headboard.

Despite her exhaustion and the soreness of her body, Tifa can't help but laugh. "You're one to talk," she says as she lets herself fall on the bed. She turns her head to gaze at him and smiles. "It's never enough, is it?"

Cloud reaches out, brushing hair out of her face. "Just with you." Before she can reply, he slides down on the bed to lie on his side facing her.

"Hey," she whispers.

"Hey." Cloud smiles. "I like this."

Tifa lets out a soft chuckle. "Fucking me until I can't take it anymore?"

"Yeah, but that's not what I meant." His arm wraps around her, and he tucks her against his chest.

"I know," Tifa says, tilting her head back to look at him.

"Smartass," he mumbles. "Get some rest for real, alright?"

"Uh-uh." She snorts, then scoots closer to him. "Pretty sure I can't walk, anyway."

Though he says nothing, Tifa senses his satisfaction in the way his hold on her strengthens. It's almost dark, she realizes as her body grows heavy, and she had so many things to do, and yet she can't regret the day fading away.

—

It rains the afternoon Tifa forgets her phone and has to turn back to get it. By the time she's walked from her car to her building, her clothes are drenched. Annoyed at both herself and the weather, she doesn't pay much attention to her surroundings—that's why she doesn't immediately notice the man standing in front of Cloud's door. It's only as she's about to unlock her door that she spots him. And it's his faint familiarity that startles her, like she's seen him before, but so quickly that she didn't bother remembering who he was. He leans against the door as if waiting, hands in his pockets in a casual posture. When he raises his head and Tifa takes in his long, tied-back hair and sharp features, she blinks out of surprise.

It's Seph, she realizes, and he must be waiting for Cloud. Before she knows it, Tifa approaches him; she halts a few feet away, noting his displeased expression.

"Sorry," she says, awkwardness seeping into her voice, "but are you Seph?"

He frowns but straightens away from the door. "Friend of Cloud's?"

Tifa nods, not wanting to bother explaining her newfound relationship with Cloud to his brother. "We're also neighbors. He's mentioned you a few times," she says as he stays silent.

"Oh, I see." Seph's frown vanishes, and he gives her a smile. Though she can't say why exactly, something about his smile has her stomach twists into knots. "Nice to meet you, then."

"Yes, likewise." Tifa shuffles her feet, unsure of what she should do. "Cloud should be coming back soon," she says.

"Okay, that's good to know."

It strikes her that, from his words, Seph can't have known when Cloud would get home. The thought that he would have waited until his brother got back makes Tifa nervous. "Do you want to wait—"

"Seph?"

Tifa whirls around at Cloud's confused voice to see him walking towards them.

"Hey," Seph says with a tight smile. It's not like the one he gave her, Tifa thinks—this is an honest smile, and the strain of it is obvious this time. "Thought I'd drop by."

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Cloud shakes his head as if unsure if he's dreaming, then comes closer to unlock the door. "Go in, I just need to speak with Tifa for a second."

Seph nods, giving her a look she can't decipher. But it morphs into that same politeness he displayed earlier. "Nice meeting you," he says before walking inside.

Cloud shuts the door behind his brother but doesn't let go of the handle. He takes a deep breath, but the tautness of his body lets Tifa know something is wrong.

"You didn't know he was coming?" Her question is useless considering the reaction he had to his brother's presence, but she needs to break the tension.

"No. I'm not—" Cloud sighs and finally turns around to face her. "We had a fight two days ago. Again."

She doesn't remind him he's told her before, sensing this isn't the right move. "Yeah?"

"I'm just…" He lowers his voice and walks up to her. "This is getting difficult. I don't know what to do anymore. I want to help, but he won't let me."

"This is an opportunity." Tifa takes his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Talk to him. Make him understand you want to help."

"Yeah…"

"Come on, he's waiting." She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him; there is no surprise when he deepens the kiss, like he wants to get lost in her. But Tifa knows him well enough—in the two weeks since the event, she's noticed his tendency to run away from his troubles. She breaks away a little, dropping a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Cloud nods and with a sigh, turns on his heels to walk into his apartment. Though she knows she should leave, Tifa can't help but stay still for a minute. She's not sure why she feels the need—it must be her worry for Cloud, she thinks, but something deep inside tells her that's not all there is. As she goes to grab her phone and heads back outside, she strains her ears, like she's afraid to miss some sound that might tell her enough. When she gets into her car—she brought an umbrella this time—Tifa realizes the stress of the encounter persists within her.

It's only once she's arrived at the university that she understands what she feels is fear.

—

A/N: Raise your hand those who listened to the piece at the start of the chapter and got confused by the mood.

Again, big hugs to Kaya, Jen, Karmi, legendaryboo, Max and eternalli for the constant encouragement, wheeee. You can find on twitter under sk_evans !