A/N : Yes, finally! My deepest and sincerest apologies to have kept you all waiting. A lot of reasons conspired to keep me from writing this update, writer's block being one of them, so I apologize in advance for the quality (or rather, lack of) of this chapter. Also, I haven't really proof-read this one, so please let me know if there are any errors!
Chapter 17 - Emerald Eyes
The loud, monotonic ringing of the phone woke Spencer up. She had fallen asleep at her table, her hair splayed over the files that she'd been looking at. Her head shot up fast, and she spat a few stray locks of hair out of her mouth, feeling disorientated. A headache was beginning to make her head pound, and the shrill sound wasn't helping. Annoyed, she picked up the phone.
"Hello?" Spencer barked into the receiver, trying to stifle a yawn.
"Are you sleeping on the job, Spencer?" Her mother's voice was stern and disapproving, and made Spencer sit up straight and look around in alarm.
"No! No, I was just a little tired. Stayed up late last night."
"Hopefully it was because you were reviewing your cases, and not because of that Cavanaugh boy." Even through the electronic connection, Spencer could hear the distaste in her mother's voice.
"His name is Toby, mom. And yes, I was working late." The lie came out easily. She'd gotten used to lying to her parents; it was as simple as breathing. Obviously, she couldn't tell her mother the real reason for her late night.
"Good. Although, I really don't see what can be so complex about a divorce." Veronica Hastings really didn't miss an opportunity to let Spencer know how disappointed she was of her daughter's career choices.
"Yeah. I don't either. Your divorce was a piece of cake, wasn't it?" Spencer couldn't help but let bitterness slip into her voice. She remembered the divorce battle that had taken place, and how ugly it had gotten. Her parents were both headstrong, and the only thing that had stopped them from having an all-out war over their shared property was their mutual need to keep a good public reputation.
"Spencer." Veronica's voice has dropped to a dangerous pitch, one that Spencer was quite familiar with. When she'd been young, it had always induced fear in her. Now, it just made her irritated.
"Mother." Spencer was nothing but her mother's daughter. She heard a sigh on the other end, and rested her cheek on her hand, her eyes skimming over the lines of fine print in front of her.
"I don't even know why I bother to call you. Well, let me get to the reason why I actually called. You have to meet Conrad." There was no hint of a request in Veronica's voice. It was crisp and businesslike. "He's in town for the weekend, and he told me that he'd like to see you."
Spencer sighed, scowling at the far wall. "I don't want to meet Conrad." She really disliked that obnoxious cousin of hers. Her mother, on the other hand, positively doted on the orphaned son of her brother. "I hate him," she muttered under her breath.
"What was that? Speak up. A Hastings never mumbles."
"Sorry, mom." Habits were hard to break, and Spencer found herself acting once more like an obedient daughter. It was strange how she could feel her mother controlling her, even from such a distance. "I think I'm too busy this weekend—"
"—You are to meet him, and that's final. You never know, you might learn something from him. He's very famous now, did you know? His victory in the Parker case has earned him the best clients," Veronica interjected, unable to listen to her daughter's protests any longer. "You have to make time."
Spencer knew that she couldn't avoid the lunch. "Where do I have to meet him?" she sighed in a resigned way, resisting the urge to slump forward on the table. The day was going from bad to worse. "And when, exactly?"
"He said he was free today. Why don't you take him to lunch? Take him somewhere nice." There was a pause, and a distant shuffle of paper through the static. "How about 15 East? I've heard they've got a new chef straight from Japan."
Spencer nearly gagged. "Mom, you know I hate sushi." She cradled the phone in one hand, while she started typing out a search for restaurants near her office building. The less time she wasted on Conrad, the better.
"Conrad loves it. And this meeting is not about you. Take him there." Veronica's tone was final, and Spencer could feel the conversation drawing to a close.
"Okay." Spencer felt like throwing something at the wall. Maybe her computer...
"I'll let him know that you want to see him for lunch. Bye."
"Bye, mom." Spencer heard the click of the phone call ending, and then let the receiver fall from her hands. "Oh, by the way, I'm doing fine, mom. Thanks for asking," she muttered at the empty air in front of her. She knew that she shouldn't waste her time being bitter. She'd given up hope a long time ago of having a normal family. The Hastings were unique, and she was as much a Hastings as the rest of them. Spencer got up from her seat, and put her blazer on, taking her time. She reached down to tidy the papers that had been spread all over the table, and smooth down the bent corners she had caused in her little nap. She smoothed down the front of her shirt, made sure that there were no creases left in her tailored skirt, and started making her way towards the door. Walking outside of her cabin, she noticed her secretary hard at work, bent over several large folders.
"Violet? I'm going out for lunch. I don't have any meetings scheduled for this afternoon, do I?"
"No, Ms. Hastings. Oh, and your mom just left a reminder for you to meet a Mr. Conrad Archibald in precisely an hour, and that she's booked a reservation."
Spencer smiled tightly at the pleasant face looking up at her. She had to hand it to her mother; that woman was nothing but efficient. "Thanks." Now all she had to worry about was getting there and managing the seemingly impossible task of sitting through a meal with her dear cousin.
The air was thick with about a hundred different variants of the same fishy smell that made Spencer nauseous. She had been escorted (by a smartly dressed man with a gleaming, hairless head) to an almost separated part of the busy restaraunt. The tables were filled with designer-dressed professionals arguing over steaming plates of pale, decorated fish, and women tittering over dainty portions of caviar and cocktails. The atmosphere was reminiscent of the many 'family dinners' she had been forced to endure, where the Hastings had discussed politics and their accomplishments, amongst other world issues.
Spencer had gotten there early, solely due to the efforts of one rather brave taxi driver, whom she had tipped generously. She hated being late to things, even if they spelled doom and disaster, or at least certain boredom. Now, she kept glancing irritatedly at her watch, and tapping her foot impatiently.
"Spencer? It is you, right?"
Spencer's head jerked up so fast that she heard something pop in her neck. Standing near the table, with two hands curled over the top of a chair, was Conrad. Spencer immediately found a scowl forming on her face as she surveyed her cousin and childhood nemesis. There was a cockier and more aggressive version of Spencer's smirk twisting his lips, and evident amusement lit up his icy, slate-grey eyes. Conrad had sharp features, a well defined jaw, and a nose that looked like it could slice through steel like a hot knife through butter. He was considered attractive by some foolish women, that much Spencer knew, but she found him as unappealing as seaweed that had been stepped upon. What made it worse was, Conrad Archibald was someone who was very aware of his good looks and acted like it gave him a superiority over everyone else.
"Were you expecting someone else?" Spencer arched an eyebrow, not even attempting to hide the curl of disdain on her lips. Just because she had to be here didn't mean that she was going to pretend to enjoy herself. Her unconcealed annoyance seemed to add to the self-satisfied smirk on Conrad's face, and it was all Spencer could do to not throw her wine glass at his face.
"No, but I'm sure you weren't. I kinda invited someone else." Conrad made a face that looked like it was meant to be apologetic, but came out more like a 'what-can-you-do' look. He glanced impatiently at his phone, then took a seat opposite Spencer's. "I have a...friend who needs a lawyer. She's running late, but she'll be here soon." He shrugged, turning to smile at the waiter who had come to their table.
"One Yellowtail Sashimi Three Ways for my entrée, thank you," Conrad ordered without even opening the menu. Spencer rolled her eyes. Of course, it had to be the most expensive appetizer on the menu. Spencer scanned through the list, trying to not be too squeamish as she conjured up mental image after mental image of writhing pieces of various seafood served on pristine white plates.
"Kumamoto Oyster for me, please," Spencer stumbled over the unfamiliar, foreign word, and Conrad bit back a laugh. The waiter nodded and walked away, brisk in manner and gait.
Spencer went with oyster because she had tasted it before, and because she really didn't want to take the risk of throwing up in front of Conrad (not to mention the other, influential people she was surrounded with). Besides, how bad could a rumoured aphrodisiac be? Although, she was sure that any effect of the said aphrodisiac would be negated immediately by the powerful force-field of concentrated sliminess that surrounded Conrad. As soon as she said it, she heard Conrad snort, then disguise it as a cough. "If I remember correctly, you're a lawyer too, right?"
The smirk was wiped off Conrad's face for a split second, then his lips once again slid into a sneer. "It's more of something that requires...your expertise. I was hoping you could help. This friend of mine, she doesn't really want a divorce, but I'm sure you could change her mind." Conrad arched his dark eyebrows, his gray eyes glinting with insinuations. Just like that, Spencer got a clear understanding of why this particular request was being made. She felt a tinge of pity for the poor girl whom Conrad was eyeing for his next conquest. He did seem very keen on her.
"If I'm not wrong, you haven't told her about this meeting, have you?" Spencer asked, smiling with no hint of amusement. Someone else was going to be surprised, just like she had been. No wonder Conrad had asked her mom that he wanted to see Spencer. It wasn't just a sudden longing for a friendly catch up session with a cousin that he'd been wanting. It was business. As always.
"Oh, Spencer. The fact that you know me so well really flatters me." His eyes were laughing at her, in a cruel, mocking way.
Spencer's hand tightened around the handle of the chopsticks beside her plate. Maybe if she started screaming like she was being murdered and then gouged his eyes out, she could always lie about it being some sort of self-defense. Grinding her teeth together to prevent herself from saying something that would surely be reported back to her mother, Spencer looked away. A waiter, clad in crisp black, walked by with a huge, steaming octopus on a plate, and Spencer's eyes started watering. She couldn't wait to get out of this place.
"We shouldn't have ordered without your friend." Spencer was just saying something, anything, to fill up the awkward silence. To her, it felt like every empty moment meant a moment where she could feel Conrad's critical gaze analyzing her, finding a new flaw to poke and laugh about. Even now, she could sense the derision coming out of his very pores. It gave her a weird sort of satisfaction; the one thing they had in common was how much they detested the other.
"Don't worry about that. She's vegetarian," Conrad callously remarked, glancing briefly at his watch. "And she barely eats."
Spencer resisted the urge to smash the china against his styled, brown locks. "There's vegetarian dishes here as well. Or, maybe we could've gone to a vegetarian place, then."
Conrad smirked. "But I love sushi. Besides, you made the reservation, Spencer." He spoke slowly, as if he were talking to a three year old and his patience was wearing thin. "How about we use this time to...catch up?" He smiled again, and the amber lights glinted off his even, white teeth.
"If you insist." Spencer stopped her millionth survey of the room, pausing her categorizing of the people in the restaurant. She reluctantly focused her gaze on Conrad's face. "How are things, Conrad?" she asked bluntly, faking the most blatant smile that she could muster up. She felt a thrill of joy when she saw his eyes harden, but his face remained as irritatingly pleasant as ever.
"Splendid. I bought a villa in Sevilla and just finished remodeling my chateau in Bordeaux," Conrad beamed, his eyebrows raising as if Spencer had just thrown him a challenge. "How about you? Everything nice and cozy up in...What's-That-Place-Called-Again-Town?"
Spencer's eyes flashed with anger. "It's called Holbrook," she hissed through gritted teeth. She sighed.
"What is it with you and small towns? What was that other one called?"
"Rosewood." This time, Spencer's voice was barely a subdued whisper. Conrad cocked his eyebrow, noting the change in expression and the sudden tension in Spencer's shoulders.
"I bet you miss it. Is that why you settled in Holbrook, instead of The Big Apple? Why did you leave it in the first place? You could have worked with Aunt Veronica, up in Philly." Conrad was going to keep prodding her till she slipped up and said something stupid about her past.
A pounding headache was playing hide-and-seek with her, and now it was burying its roots into her temple. She pressed her fingertips against her forehead, frowning. She didn't want to talk about Rosewood. She didn't want to think about it. It was making her think of Emily. Emily, who was so far away right now. What was Emily doing now? No, she couldn't think about Emily now. What if Conrad has some supervillain powers that allowed him stray glimpses into her thoughts? What Spencer was thinking right now would definitely count as ammunition, and he would hardly wait to use it against her. Spencer pulled her mind away from the direction it was headed (back to the events of the previous night, why she was so tired, why she hadn't been able to sleep a wink even after getting home), and tried to look bored.
"I needed a change of scenery. There's too much of the same there, in Rosewood."
Conrad laughed. "Holbrook's very vibrant, I suppose," he muttered between chuckles.
"Oh yes. Almost as fun as sitting here, having sushi with my favourite cousin."
That shut him up. This time, the look of intense dislike that Conrad shot her was unmistakable.
"So, where did you meet this 'friend' of yours?" she continued disinterestedly, trying to change the track of the conversation. Perhaps she meant it as a white flag. She knew that this meeting was an important milestone in the distance that separated her mother and her, a distance that Spencer kept trying to lessen. She was mentally praying that she could use this little lunch get-together as a card against her mother if she ever tried to make Spencer visit the Archibalds in the future.
Conrad's face broke into a cocky smirk."It's quite interesting actually. She was one of the artists that we showcased at Art à la Archibald," he drawled with an air of supremacy. He was bragging about the exhibition that his family sponsored every year, where upcoming artists were allowed to exhibit their works. That is, if they succeeded in getting on the good side of the Archibalds. Whoever this friend of Conrad's was, she must have done a lot of ass-kissing to get into the show.
"I remember she was wearing this shocking, red cocktail dress," Conrad continued, his lips drawn into a thin-lipped smirk. His eyes were a little glazed over, and Spencer couldn't help but compare his vacant gaze to the glassy, bead-like eyes of the large fish displayed proudly on the table next to theirs. "I, being a true connoisseur of maraschino cherries, gravitated towards her. It was like love at first bite," he divulged, baring his even teeth in a leer that made Spencer's skin crawl. "Of course, I did not literally bite her. I simply tasted her intellect." Spencer felt her eyes rolling of their own accord. Leave it to Conrad to make the world 'intellect' sound like an obscene insult.
In reply to his little confession, she merely grimaced even more. Her face contorted with disgust at the sight of the two plates that were placed before her by another smartly clad waiter. She smiled and thanked the waiter politely. The food critic inside her, that had been so blatantly absent the day she'd lunched at Arianna's, now surfaced with a vengeance. She could find no fault with the food displayed in front of her. The presentation was exquisite, the vegetables colourful and perfectly julienned and the oyster shells glowed in the soft lighting. She could look past the semi-liquid insides of the shells. She could treat it as medicine, and down it like a shot. The dishes didn't even look half bad. Well, at least hers didn't. Conrad's dish, however, was raw fish posing as edible food posing as a distorted flower. It made her back away a little, and Conrad, who was eyeing her like a hawk, noticed the little movement.
"They look delicious, don't they?," Conrad grinned. He was obviously enjoying the look in her eyes a little too much. Purposely, he shifted his plate so that it was closer to Spencer. "You should've ordered what I did. It's their best dish. Everything tastes better raw." He lifted a pale pink piece of fish to his mouth to prove his point, and closed his eyes as he chewed slowly. "Perfect."
"Oh, yes. Absolutely lovely," Spencer replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm and false sweetness. She could totally imagine Conrad catching fish with his bare hands and then biting down on the heads without bothering to cook them like a civilized human being. Blood seemed to be the perfect accessory for him. Spencer lifted her fork and knife, and looked at her plate. The utensils that she had always relied on were going to prove useless now. She slowly laid them to the side, grabbed a napkin for comfort, then picked up an oyster. She'd had oysters before. In France, on a vacation, when she was eight. She remembered that she had gotten so horribly sick that they'd had to cancel their trip to Nice and Provence, much to the irritation of her entire family. But she'd just been a kid then. Spencer was confident that this time, she'd be able to keep down her food, and look like she was enjoying it as well.
Conrad positively glowed at Spencer's discomfort. He muffled his laughter by wiping his mouth with the silk napkins provided by the restaurant. Spencer's eyes narrowed to slits. The edge of the fork dug into her palm. She reined in all her emotions and converted her face into a passive and neutral expression. It was second nature to Spencer now due to years of practice, but it was still hard for her to summon her natural calm.
The display of serenity seemed to goad Conrad into being even ruder. "Are you going to eat that or not?"
Spencer sighed and nodded, then bared her teeth at Conrad. It wasn't a smile. It wasn't even a proper grimace. Honestly, it was frightening, and it wiped the smirk off Conrad's face, because Spencer looked more than a little deranged. "You are so caring, Conrad," she simpered, talking just so she wouldn't have to put the food into her mouth. Anyone listening in on the conversation would think that they were truly considerate towards each other, but the expressions on their faces loudly proclaimed just how feigned their familiarity and closeness was.
"Huh. Of course, Spencer. Family always looks out for each other, right?"
The arrogance was back, and for a split second, Spencer saw an eleven-year old Conrad sitting opposite her, instead of the twenty-seven year old. It was the same thing Conrad had said to her, back when Spencer was nine. Veronica had been visiting family, and she'd taken Spencer and Melissa along. The Archibald reunions always meant that Veronica's brother, Marcus, and his horrible son, Conrad, would be there. The reunions had always taken place at the Archibald ranches, and that particular year, Melissa had completely left Spencer alone, because some French boys had decided to make an appearance with some of their older cousins. The only one who had wanted to be around her was Conrad. Conrad had been a good looking boy, even back then, with his dimples, devilish smirk, and his curious grey eyes. Spencer had always detested his all-knowing air, but she'd been forced to tolerate his presence. Promising adventure, he had led her out to an old, rope swing near the stables. He'd helped her on, as the rope was too short, and the swing was too high for Spencer. He'd given her a good few pushes, before the rope had snapped, and she fell. Spencer remembered that she'd survived the three-foot fall with a few bruises and a lot of scraped skin, but what she remembered the most was the laughter that had accompanied her fall. Conrad laughed even more when he noticed the wobble of Spencer's lip, and her glassy eyes. He'd doubled up, then fallen back and rolled in the grass, chortling his heart out. Seeing that had hurt Spencer more than the fall. And she could proudly say that, although the fall had been really painful, she hadn't cried. Not once. Not even after going home. Not even when Conrad had dragged her to a little pond and ordered her to wash the blood and dirt off her hands and knees, and delivered his line. 'Family always looks out for each other, Spencer. I'm a good cousin, aren't I? I don't want you to bleed to death now, do I? You'll tell your mother how good I was, won't you?' The fall had been planned. But Spencer had never breathed a word about it, and no one except Melissa had noticed the scrapes on her knees and her bruises. Besides, she could have hardly said anything against Conrad. That summer, Marcus died when the pilot of his private jet lost control somewhere over the Atlantic ocean. Conrad's mother, Katherine, had died in childbirth, so he was left orphaned. Spencer couldn't have accused him of anything after that.
Reliving that memory made Spencer's heart harden even more. She could not believe she had agreed to come along to this. She could've been catching up on sleep now. Hell, she could've been doing anything, now. Anything would be better than this pretense, this awful farce.
"Yes, Conrad. You always have lived by that principle, haven't you?" Her eyes glittered with bitterness, and she felt smug inside when the smirk on Conrad's face faltered. She had grown stronger, and they had barely interacted after that little incident. He had probably taken her childhood silence as a show of weakness. Well, now he could clearly see that Spencer Hastings was anything but weak.
Conrad nodded absently, and bent his head, returning to his plate of food as if they hadn't been talking at all. He attacked his fish with renewed vigour, no longer taking the time to savour it or make a show of daintily putting it into his mouth and chewing it slowly. Spencer too, let her gaze fall to the plate in front of her. Some small part, at the back of her mind, reminded her that her food would taste even worse cold. But she paid no attention to it.
After playing with and neatly organizing her vegetables (according to colour, of course) and oysters to different sides, Spencer looked up from her plate. She noticed that Conrad had now stopped eating and was excitedly waving at someone, the mood from several minutes ago changing entirely. She felt her curiosity rise and she turned her head to look at who Conrad was waving. It was a woman. Probably the guest they were supposed to be meeting. Conrad's 'maraschino cherry'. Spencer stared directly at her shoes first, as she was a firm believer of the theory that shoes said a lot about the person wearing them. The clothes not only maketh the man, but also the woman. The shoes were strange, multi-coloured platform shoes, with some sort of tassels attached to the front. She then let her gaze travel upwards, like a scanner. The woman was wearing a bohemian, floral print skirt and an oversized white blouse with a Puritan collar. Her scarf was an old one and made of faux-fur. Spencer raised an eyebrow, feeling a strange mix of familiarity and newness wash over her. The accessories were too eclectic and chunky for Spencer to dwell on, so she moved straight to the person's face. The woman was moving, threading between the efficient bodies of the waiters, so her face kept coming in and out of Spencer's vision. Finally, as she neared the table, Spencer got a clear view.
The woman had short, pixie-ish hair that barely touched her shoulders. They had been dyed purple at the tips, but the purple was fading, leaving behind a bleached colour above the tips. She had donned large, oversized sunglasses that covered most of her face. Her cheekbones were highlighted with the slightest tinge of rouge. Her lips were bow-shaped and there was a hint of smile on her face. Spencer felt her own face contort into a frown of their own accord. The muscles in her neck were starting to cramp because she was turning back at an uncomfortable angle to look at the woman. Something about this woman struck a chord with Spencer. She felt like she knew this person somehow. Her features, the texture of her hair, her shy and timid walk all reminded Spencer of a girl that she couldn't place. It was buried deep in the recesses of her mind.
Unable to take the discomfort anymore, Spencer turned back to Conrad, who had stood up, being the true 'gentleman' that he was or as Spencer thought, pretended to be. Spencer got up too, glad to abandon the plate of food in front of her. She turned around, affixing a natural, yet not-too-intimate smile on her face. The stranger, waved at Conrad, seemingly not noticing Spencer. A waiter suddenly obstructed her path, and she used the pause to bend her head and take her sunglasses off, stuffing them into her beaded hobo bag. Finally, she raised her head, turning towards Spencer with a creased forehead, already questioning the presence of a surprise element. The woman was now almost near their table. Spencer heard Conrad say something in greeting, but it sounded muted and completely unintelligible. She was too busy looking into emerald eyes that were alarmingly increasing in size, the surprise turning into shock, turning into something else. It was that little thing, that set off something inside Spencer, and at once, she knew exactly who she was face to face with.
A/N: Comments/Criticisms? I'd love to know any opinion that you guys have. Also, if you'd like to suggest stuff or point out areas for improvement, please do feel free to do that!
spinoza-off: I do love fluff, but only when it's written in a certain way. I don't really like sugary sweet, haha, so I was trying not to make people drown in sweetness. And thank you so much for your kind words. It's very flattering, especially from a writer of your talent and stature. Hot is what I aim for, mostly, because, in my opinion, if Spemily is one thing, it's hot. Their fights, their cutesy moments, their drama. I try to write all of that keeping in mind their hotness, so I'm happy that it translated well.
nude as the news: Wow, thanks! I'm glad that my writing is getting some sort of a reaction! I tend to skip sentences when I read boring bits, and the fact that you don't with my fic, means a lot to me! I'll try to keep the boredom-inducing stuff out as much as I can!
CloudGypsy: Thank you so much for that wonderful review!
You're right, they do like being in bed together, haha. I try to put as much teasing in as possible, because it's fun to write, and hopefully fun to read! And I feel that, in certain romantic situations, Spencer would certainly not be as brave as she makes herself out to be. But yes, when (and if) the time comes, Emily will certainly give Spencer an education, haha.
LaughLoveLiveXx: Thanks for the review. :) Spencer is a sly one, for sure. She's just very much torn, as during the day, she's all reasonable and logical and trying to save her relationship, while at night, she keeps gravitating to the one thing she truly wants, which is Emily. The best thing about Spemily is that they're best friends first, so I try to show that through their constant teasing and playful flirting. They are obviously exploring new aspects of their relationship, but they are still friends. Although they've developed other feelings, the platonic ones are still there, and I try to keep that as the undertone in any scene that I write with them together.
AnGeLuZ: You don't have to apologize! I'm grateful for a review, really. Thank you so much! You are really flattering me with your kind comments, and I know how it feels when you feel like you absolutely have to finish a fanfic! I'm so happy that my fic did that for you, and I do hope that you'll keep enjoying the chapters as much in the future as you have so far.
You are so right about Toby! There is definitely more to Toby's character, and it will be revealed in future chapters as the story progresses. Arianna is suspicious by nature, so she's obviously noticed the chemistry between Spencer and Emily from the start. You will get your Aria and Hanna soon! :)
SpemilyForever: Thanks so much! Haha, I would kill to have the bond that any of the girls share with each other on the show. It really is great, and very rare. I'm glad my filler chapters aren't too boring. xD There's lots more drama to come, because I love drama!
Artisall: Aw, thank you so much! You're very kind! I really do hope your opinion doesn't change. :)
urbankazoos: Wow, that review surely made my ego bigger than it already is, haha. On a more serious note, I really want to thank you for leaving some wonderful comments. I write solely for my readers (and perhaps a little for myself, because I do love Spemily), and knowing that my work is entertaining someone is very rewarding. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for the update (busy, busy time) but it's mostly because I try not to compromise on the decent-ish quality of my chapters, so I always make sure I'm satisfied before I post. I hope you keep enjoying the story in the future. :)
lemonfiz1: Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it. :)