Bellamy was on her bed reading, pretending she couldn't feel heavy pulsing bass in her chest. Beyond that, she was ignoring the sound of numerous chatty voices drifting towards her door, indicating a large mass of people in the main area of the tower. She took a sip of chamomile tea and pursed her lips as a loud muted cheer grated her ears.
She almost didn't hear the rhythmic knock on her door that revealed Steve, poking his head in with an almost sheepish apologetic smile.
"Still doing okay?" He asked as he walked inside, closing the door behind him and muting the party down below again.
"Mmhm," she replied as she continued reading; this was his second time checking in on her. Steve hesitated beside her bed.
"…I know there's a lot of people down there—"
"Yes, that's what happens when you let Tony Stark take over planning a simple party." She cut him off curtly.
"Just come down." Steve pleaded. "It isn't my ideal setting either, but it is Sam's birthday."
Steve had mentioned to her a few days prior he was thinking of throwing a birthday party for their friend. Of course, a small get together had turned into a full blown swanky party at the tower with far too many people she would be putting a friendly face on for.
"I don't party, Steve."
"C'mon, Belle. Maybe it'll do you some good." He suggested. She merely turned to scowl and he sighed. "If you change your mind, come find us." He walked to the door, and paused. "I know Sam would appreciate seeing you." She snorted after he left, hating the guilt he had pushed on her, however, she never gave any promise on making an appearance.
Her eyes couldn't read the words on the pages anymore, and she put the book to the side in irritation, rubbing the temples on her head. She knew Steve was right, but the tumultuous recent events in her life still seemed to be weighing her down, no matter how hard she tried not to let them. Maybe she was feeling the events more now. But one had to move forward, and maybe pretending for the night would push her in the right direction.
Almost begrudgingly, she changed from her sweatpants to a casual sweater dress and put her hair up. That was enough effort, she decided, and walked to her door, trying to will her stamina up. Don't isolate yourself. She told herself in her head as she opened the door to a seemingly other world.
It was like stepping from the shade to direct sunlight on a scorching day; everything was amplified. Bellamy squinted as she descended the steps to the main floor, immediately trying to search for a walking path through the throng of people. There wasn't one in sight.
These guests were primarily Tony's, she could tell by their clothes. Every face was unrecognizable to her, but perhaps a faceless crowd was for the better. She had to push her way through, but she did so without getting noticed. Mainly, she tried not to get stepped on. A woman laughed and threw her head back, along with her elbow, which jabbed Bellamy in the ribs.
"I need a drink." She muttered to herself under her breath, rubbing her side and making her way towards the bar. Compared to the crowd, she was too stiff, and too full of thoughts. She leaned on the counter, noting the professional bartender Tony had hired, and ordered a gin and tonic.
"Wow. You know, gun to my head, I would've had to guess you've never had a drink in your life." In took her a second to realize someone was at her shoulder and speaking to her. She turned and noticed Tony, raising his eyebrows at her. "This isn't your first drink ever, right?" She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her awaiting drink.
"Great party." She told him before taking a drink. He tilted his head with narrowed eyes.
"Is that sarcasm?" She smiled pointedly. Before she could say anything else, it felt as though someone threw a sandbag over her shoulders. It was only Thor, with one arm over her shoulders and the other over Tony's, pulling them closer to him.
"There's the hermit! What a pleasant surprise to see your face!" He boomed next to her ear, and shook her shoulders, making her drink spill. She downed the rest of it before it suffered the same fate, before signaling for another from the bartender.
"Where's Steve and Sam?" Bellamy asked Tony.
"Is our company not good enough?"
"I haven't told him happy birthday yet." Without hesitating she downed half of the new glass, wincing. Tony grabbed it, sliding it closer to him.
"Okay, hold up, are you a closet alcoholic?" She tugged the glass back with a scoff, but when she looked back at him, she wasn't expecting the way his eyes grew sincere, or him leaning closer to her. "I saw the flowers. I'm sure you've got a lot going on. It'll get better." She looked at him quickly, not entirely believing she was still talking to Tony for a minute. "But I'm guessing you're a lightweight, so maybe you should—" She ignored him, drinking the rest of the glass with a grimace, before she turned to Thor at her other shoulder.
"Do you want to dance?" He let out an exhilarated laugh.
"Indeed, I would be thrilled! Teach me the Midgardian way!" She couldn't change her mind now as he towed her towards the other dancing people. Really, she just wanted to get away from the emotional talk, no matter how much Tony meant well.
Thor was mainly just swinging her around the floor, and years of dance class at least allowed her to fit in enough among everyone else. The drinks had helped her loosen up, and she was escaping from her mind for a moment, focusing on the moving parts of her body. As she spun away from Thor, she heard his booming laugh above the music, until it faded to background noise as she came face to face with Bucky.
She gasped, freezing in her tracks. Every noise around her silenced completely, until she realized this man wasn't Bucky. It was her mind once again, playing tricks on her as it did the other week at the coffee shop. She didn't snap out of it until someone bumped into her, and suddenly she was back. Her breathing was shallow, and she started pushing through the people as she became more aware, running away from the party to the muted kitchen.
"Bellamy?" She jumped at the sound of a familiar voice and turned to see Steve, approaching her cautiously with a bewildered frown. She realized it was likely caused by the wine bottle against her lips.
"Hey, Steve." She raised a hand in greeting from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter.
"I see you decided to come down after-all…" he eyed the bottle in her hand. "I didn't know you drank."
"For some reason, I've heard that twice tonight." She chuckled. Steve didn't.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. Tony came and told me you were dancing. I actually didn't believe him." His eyes were growing more concerned. "What are you doing, Bellamy?" What was she doing? To not think about it, she shrugged half-heartedly and raised the wine bottle again. "Okay, enough." Steve reached out and tried to take the bottle.
"Hey, stop!" She protested, now realizing the situation felt like that of a parent and toddler, and she was the toddler. For some reason, he was treating her like a child. No, it wasn't for some reason—she knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't explain it to Steve correctly.
"Bellamy," he tried to tell her sternly, trying again to take the bottle, but he wasn't really using all his strength, and she yanked it away from him and closer to her.
"I've done it before!" He stopped trying to wrestle her and now looked as though he didn't recognize her. I sound like an alcoholic, she realized to herself and huffed, her head shaking back and forth. "I just…no, I'm not—I mean…" Still, she couldn't find the words to explain. Steve was staring at her with a look of pity, before he sighed.
"Sam found something new." He told her. "I was hoping you could help out, but you're in no condition."
It was almost like she sobered up at his words. Her head snapped up to look at him.
"About Bucky?" Steve was already turning to leave.
"…Maybe you should get back to your room." His answer wasn't helpful.
"Wait, Steve, what are you—" in her haste, she rushed forward to try and catch up to him but knocked over the bottle and cursed under her breath as the red liquid shattered to the ground. As if she didn't look like a toddler enough already. Steve stared at her worriedly. "I'm sorry, Steve—"
"I'll be here in the morning if you want to talk. I have to go." Bellamy watched him leave bitterly. She had heard him use those words before, on Tony after he had too much to drink one night. Now she was the one he was avoiding until she was coherent enough.
She stared at the puddle on the ground, wondering where she had seen it before, until she remembered the rooftop, the spilled wine that was still there too.
What news had Steve heard, what evidence did Sam find that she had missed? A new lead in Europe? Some far-fetched sighting that turned out to be false yet again? Or, was it even closer, was he back around New York? And if he was…why?
Her mind began to flood with possibilities, but before it could get too far head, she ran away from the kitchen, trying to find Steve. She nearly exposed herself as she turned the corner only to find Steve and Sam together at the end of the long hallway. Quietly, she stayed hidden behind the wall, trying to listen to their conversation.
"…and you're positive?" Steve was asking.
"Every sign points to yes. And if those are all true, that means he's close by at this very moment."
"Alright, well, let's try our luck." Their footsteps took them away, and she held her breath for a moment, letting the information sink in. He was here. He was close by.
He was actually here.
Her hands were sweating and almost shaking as she snuck out of the tower, wrapped in a coat, walking determinedly in the right direction. If he was back in New York and wanted to see her, he would go to the safest place, but that was only if he wanted to see her. There were no guarantees, but she continued walking briskly anyways.
Her apartment was dark when she walked in, but again, it was like she could breathe comfortably. As she flipped on lamps, she stopped and looked around, realizing how much of herself was here, and how despite changing, it still represented her. And she missed it.
Bellamy didn't quite know what she was expecting, she realized after every light was on and she was standing blankly in her living room. Was she expecting Bucky to already be in there magically? This whole notion suddenly felt foolish.
But it didn't feel foolish enough to make her leave and go back to the tower either. Maybe she was just being naïve and still hoping he would show, but she was staying here tonight, whether he showed up or not. Maybe after a few incidents tonight she didn't feel right being at the tower anymore, maybe it was the way Steve had looked at her, but she just wanted to be here for the time being.
With slow steps, she walked towards her bedroom, listening to the foreign sound of her shoes on the wood floor. Everything was just as she had left it, neatly in its place. She walked closer to her bookshelf and examined her books again, mindlessly reading titles. When she looked away and found her reflection in the mirror, she only stared calmly. Her reflection jumped at the faint sound of tapping. Tapping on glass.
The pounding of her heart reminded her of the bass from earlier in the night. Somehow that seemed like years ago. She paused in the shelter of the hallway away from the living room, where the sound of tapping came again. Steady, noticeable, but not demanding. The sound was barely even there, as though it weren't entirely committed to its actions.
Bellamy stepped into the living room and slowly raised her head to look towards the glass door leading to the balcony, where she could see a darker shadowy figure against the background of the black night. She felt as if she were floating across the floor to the door, waiting for the moment that the shadow would grow clearer and recognizable. It felt as though she were living too lucidly in a dream.
Her body was inches from the glass, and in the light of her apartment she could see her reflection first in the glass, her bewildered face framed with her messy hair, her body not quite relaxed. And then, she could see past herself, a shadowed face she always thought she saw, and even when she did see in her dreams, it would never compare to the cohesiveness of its nature as it was directly in front of her. She almost didn't believe her sight—it had tricked her before—until she could see his metal hand, glinting from both her light and the moonlight.
Dazed, her fingers moved to unlock the door and slide it open, and that was when the details were clearer. It was him, and he was there right in front of her, as frozen as she. Her eyes swept up from his worn boots up to his dark jeans, past his layered dark shirts and the backpack strapped to him, all the way up to his face. He appeared apprehensive, waiting patiently for her to move first. Her vision was blurring as she stared into his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he told her, his voice hoarse and soft, but that was all she let him say before she threw her arms around his frame. She wasn't expecting the sigh of relief that came from his lips, or how quickly he wrapped his arms around her in return, how tight he held her to him, the way he buried his head in the crook of her neck.
They stayed like that, halfway inside and halfway out, long enough for her to feel a stray tear fall from her eyes down her nose. To feel his heartbeat pounding against her body, racing like hers, and compare their breathing tempos.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again against her skin, and she shook her head, pulling back.
"Stop, I know." She reassured him, making him look at her. "I understand." He breathed another sigh of relief, and she pulled him inside completely, almost afraid he would slip away if she didn't. He didn't argue and instead stared down at her, seemingly taking in her features, perhaps comparing them to memories as she was doing. Without knowing what else to do, she pressed her cheek to his chest again, reaching her arms as tightly as she could around him.
Before, with their hugs, Bucky had always been hesitant, as he had told her in the last letter, but now, he didn't hesitate. One hand held her waist to him, while the other stroked the top of her head. She smiled against the fabric of his shirt.
"Your hair is different." He murmured, and she pulled back. "It's parted to the left. It was always parted down the middle." It was such an obscure thing to notice, and she chuckled for some reason, but could feel her eyes watering.
"Yeah, and I wear jeans now too. Lots of denim. You even missed a sundress. Oh, and…" She raised her hands to his, showing the turquoise nail polish on her nails. He chuckled, a bright smile making his eyes crinkle as he took her hands in his and held them. The sensation of his metal hand in hers was such a missed feeling; it reminded her she was holding his hands. "What are you doing here?" The lighthearted look faded a bit from his eyes as he looked instead to their hands intertwined.
"Well, isn't something important coming up soon?" Her lips twitched. "Isn't someone...turning 30 soon?" She chuckled, ducking her head and he squeezed her hands. The sensation of it was surreal—it was like getting pinched. It made her realize it wasn't a dream.
"You remembered." She murmured, looking back up at him, and he nodded. Her birthday was in a week. She smiled, but shook her head. "That's not really why you're here." His own smiled faltered and he sighed. She frowned now. "Talk to me, please. What happened?"
He hesitated, looking at her, and she pulled on his hand, leading him towards the love seat. There, she crossed her legs underneath her, facing him and never letting go of his hand.
"It's almost like…you opened a door. Because I left you, and all of a sudden I felt like I experienced more emotions than I ever have in my entire life. And I started remembering more, and with each memory came more feelings."
"What did you feel?" She asked him gently. He inspected his shoes.
"I felt everything." He whispered, shaking his head slowly side to side. "God, I felt it all. Everything I've done, every face I've hurt..." He trailed off, and it reminded her of before, when she had always tried her best to help him battle a war she would never be able to understand.
Suddenly, he chuckled to himself in a cynical way, as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say.
"I was in Europe. That's where I've been. About to take down the base I was telling you about. Long story short, I almost didn't make it out alive." Her heart jolted and she could feel her jaw clench, but his hand she made sure to still hold gently, stroking her thumb over the top. "And the old me…I wouldn't have been afraid to die. Maybe I would've even welcomed it. Felt like I deserved it. I would've just shut my eyes, gratefully. Waited for an end. But not this time. I was afraid."
"There's nothing wrong with being afraid." She told him lightly. He shook his head.
"I still wasn't afraid to die, I just didn't want to this time. It isn't dying that I'm afraid of…it was the thought of you, running through my head. Of never seeing your face again, of you back here, not knowing…" His voice faltered and he looked at her calmly. The most sickening wave of butterflies hit her stomach. "All I could think about was making it back here."
"I've been dying to write you back." She told him quietly, and he nodded slowly, as though he felt the same.
"I think about writing a return address every time. But I can't risk it. I'm just glad you got them."
"How did you find out about Flora?" She asked curiously, staring at him.
"Obituary." He replied. "That, also. It made me think of you too. What I would do if I were in John's shoes. Or maybe the opposite, you in his and me gone."
"…Without knowing." She added on, her words barely coming out. He stared at her, before he finally nodded. She thought carefully about his words, wanting to be more open, but finding it hard to actually say anything painfully honest. "They always say it's easier to be honest when you've been drinking."
"I knew I could smell it…not to mention that." He gestured to a red stain on her dress. His eyebrows furrowed in concern. "You don't drink often."
It was almost a relief to be with someone who knew her so well. Oddly enough, Bucky was the person who knew her the best.
"Tony threw a party…it was Steve's friend's birthday. I've been worried, and then there's Flora, and I guess I just got carried away."
"You didn't let anyone know yours is coming up soon?" She made a face.
"I'm not one to be the center of attention. Anyways, it's better this way." He smiled knowingly, before he frowned and pulled her closer to him so that she was resting against his chest. His hand rubbed her back soothingly.
"I told you not to worry about me." He scolded her gently. She didn't try to tell him it simply wasn't that easy. She didn't question his touch, which came so scarcely before and easily now. Instead, she rested against him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. "I hated not being here for you. For leaving…But I knew I had to just go. If I waited for you and tried to explain, I know I never would've been able to leave."
"I know." She told him, before she hesitated. "Steve knows you're in New York, you know that right? He's out there right now, looking for you."
"I know he is."
"He doesn't know I'm here." She reassured him, and looked up to watch him nod. "Bucky, he's really worried about you. He just wants to help."
"I know he does," he mumbled almost dismissively.
"Maybe you should see him. Just, at least explain it to him. He'll understand it, I know he will, I can help him understand—"
"Bellamy, you might understand, but I know Steve. He wouldn't let me leave. Steve…he always finds some kinda way around things. Always comes up with some crazy rosy plan."
"Why are you so sure it wouldn't work?" She argued softly, pulling back to look at him. "He would help you. I can help you." He stared down at her.
"Bellamy, this is my choice. This is the first choice I've ever been able to make. Maybe it's wrong. But it's mine." She stared back at his pleading eyes. Her stomach was prickling as she remembered Steve, everything he had done for her so far and how she was here. And he didn't know. Finally, she sighed heavily, nodding slowly in understanding. "Thank you." He whispered gratefully.
She did only promise Steve she would try her best; if he knew her situation, he couldn't fault her with this.
"Have you been okay?" He asked her suddenly, and she thought for a moment.
"It felt…uncomfortable, after you left. Before you stayed here, I preferred being alone. But then you left, and it just didn't feel right. I don't know. Steve has really helped me out. You're right, he's really great." She frowned a little, unable to shake the feeling that she was betraying him.
"And have you found something that makes you happy?" His voice was hopeful. She averted her gaze down at her fingers, beginning to frown.
"No," she hated to admit. Really, she hated to even think about how lost she still felt sometimes. "But, I think I can finally close the chapter to the past." He raised an eyebrow and she stood and offered her hand. "I need to show you something."
She led him to her bedroom, back to her closet where she dug out the files she had been given from Coulson. Bucky was frowning deeply as he flipped them all open, and read the handwritten note left behind.
"Who gave you this?"
"My files were given to me by the new director of S.H.I.E.L.D. The files on S.H.I.E.L.D. itself were left anonymously. I still know who left them."
"Did you look through them?" He asked her quietly as he looked through it himself, sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Not mine. Or my father's." She replied quietly, watching him read her file. "But, when I met with Phil, I wasn't in the best mindset. I was jealous of him, that Fury picked him over me to rebuild S.H.I.E.L.D. It was all but blatant confirmation that I was a failed project." Bucky looked up sharply, but didn't interrupt. "I'm fine without S.H.I.E.L.D. now. I'm done. But he reminded me when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. that I took an oath to protect the peace, to shield the world from those dangers. It's the only thing that keeps bothering me."
Finally being able to talk through her thoughts freely was such a release, like a gulp of air after being underwater for too long, like being back on land after swimming. Bucky closed the files and put them aside on the nightstand as she sat beside him.
"Without S.H.I.E.L.D. you don't know how to do that anymore." He concluded and she nodded. "Bellamy, I know you'll find a way. You were just meant to do good in the world, to be the good in the world. You're the reason I'm trying to do the same."
She looked over at him and smiled gently, wishing to always remember the way he returned her smile with a sweet one of his own.
"I'm surprised you hadn't passed out before I got here. Or aren't right now." He teased her lightly and she laughed. "Tired?"
"I don't think I can sleep tonight." She admitted.
"You can get in bed if you want. It's late."
"…Will you stay?" He hesitated, and she could have sworn there was a tint to his cheek, though he nodded, albeit while avoiding her eyes. She flicked the lamplight off and climbed onto her bed where he rested back beside her, allowing her to sidle up beside him and rest her head on his chest.
There was only moonlight creeping in through the window, and a comfortable silence. She smiled contently, unable to count the times she had wished this had happened.
"Have you seen a lot of beauty in the world, being away?" She whispered.
"Some. I've seen a lot of bad too. It evens out."
"But you have seen good? It has helped you, being away?"
"Yeah. It really has." It was a relief to hear. Who was she to not want that for him? There was a part of her that wished she could tell this all to Steve, but she knew she couldn't. It wasn't technically her place to tell.
"I'm really glad, Bucky. You deserve that." She whispered. His hand rubbed her back.
"...I still miss you." That was also a relief to hear.
"Me too. I miss you a lot." She let herself listen to his steady heart for a moment, letting it calm her, but it wasn't enough to calm her completely. She couldn't be lulled to sleep at the steadiness, for she knew soon enough it would just be gone again and she would be trying to replicate the rhythm in her head in vain.
She knew better than to ask, knew he couldn't entirely explain his reasoning and didn't particularly like it either, but she couldn't stop herself.
"You're going to leave again, aren't you." She whispered into the dark. The pace of his heartbeat quickened.
"I have to." He replied, barely audible. She frowned at her wall.
It must have been a long time that they stayed like that. She was growing lost in her thoughts, glaring behind closed eyelids, when she heard him chuckle softly and felt him gently kiss the top of her head.
"Without fail, you haven't missed a beat." He whispered in light amusement. But she had never drifted to sleep, she was still completely conscious, listening. She heard him sigh delicately, felt him tracing absently on her shoulder. "You've helped me more than you'll ever know, angel."
She could feel her heart fluttering at his words, could feel tingles rising on the back of her neck and traveling down her spine as he whispered softly to her, gently letting the flow of words slip from his lips like a sigh.
"One day, soon. It can't come soon enough. It's that thought that keeps me going, the idea of having a life with you, if I could ever be so lucky." Gently, he began to run his fingers through her hair, and caress the skin on the nape of her neck, her jaw, her cheek, her temple. He let out a peaceful breath.
It sent chills down her spine again.
It took everything to keep her mouth and eyes shut and keep up the facade, as she was unsure if he really wanted her to hear any of that. She only tightened her grip on him, wishing to never have to let him go at all.
More time passed and she felt him growing restless. When she peeked out, her room was growing lighter. The sun wasn't rising just yet, but the sky was turning from black to navy. Very gingerly he began to try and slip away, to which she sat upright immediately.
"It's okay, it's alright." He tried to soothe her, thinking she had been asleep the entire time. She looked out the window and the slowly brightening sky with dread before looking at Bucky with reproach.
"You weren't just going to try to leave again without a goodbye, were you?" She asked. His gaze dropped.
"It's just...easier that way. I can't tell you goodbye." She was sitting upright on her knees, and he was sitting upright in front of her. They stared at each other, seemingly reflecting discomfort and furrowed brows.
"You're afraid I'm going to ask you to stay." She murmured. His face softened.
"If you asked me to, you know I would." It was tempting, it was too tempting. She wondered if there was a right choice, both options seemed bleak. She swallowed, feeling her stomach dropping.
"Let me come with you." He looked at her sharply, before he immediately began shaking his head back and forth. "I can help you take them out, you don't have to do it alone."
"No, Bellamy. This isn't your problem. You have to move away from this, alright? You take on the world and leave me to deal with the trash." She finally sighed deeply.
"…Okay. Just take care of yourself, Buck."
His reaction made her sacrifice more than worth it, the way his lips spread into a weak smile of relief, the way his eyes looked just a bit shinier. Weakly, she watched him stand and walk to stand in front of her, reaching his arms out to her. Without hesitating, she reached upwards and wrapped hers around his neck, and he lifted her from the bed to stand on the ground in front of her, hugging her tightly to his frame.
"I'll come back to you." He whispered next to her ear. It sunk in then, how absolutely awful her situation was. Being in love and sleeping alone every night.
"I'm with you every step of the way." She told him, putting on a brave face as they pulled away. "Just…please. Be careful." He nodded before he reached into his back pocket.
"I almost forgot," he murmured, before he pulled out a piece of paper. "Don't open it until I leave, alright? It's not much but...Happy birthday." He smiled, and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Without even thinking, she reached out and gently grasped his cheek, stopping his face nearly inches from hers.
He stared back at her as her thumb stroked his cheek. He was there, right in front of her, and it was the moment she had dreamed of often, if she could only have another chance at seeing him again. All the things she thought she would say ran through her head, from ultimatum, to angry words, to calm and comforting ones...or maybe just one little promise. One raw truth that only she knew. And what was the point in holding it in? What if she really never did see him again?
"I can't let you go until you know…until you hear me say it." She murmured, her voice wavering, but she locked her eyes with his. "I love you, Bucky." His eyes fluttered a bit, and he let out a gentle chuckle. She smiled at the sound, at the gentle relief of it. She waited for his reply, her mind worrying what he was going to say, but no words came from his lips.
Instead, his lips came closer. They didn't stop like the day on the Wonder Wheel, he moved in closer and it felt as though he couldn't have possibly kissed her in a more tender way. One hand rested on her hip, and the other, his metal hand, gently cradled her face. Their lips molded together, reciprocating the welcome exchange, and she couldn't keep her lips from spreading into a smile. Indeed, silence was stronger than words, as were actions, and she needed no other affirmations from him.
They came anyways as he parted almost reluctantly from her, his lips still ghosting over hers as he whispered.
"I love you too."
Now she understood his chuckle of delight; it came from her chest involuntarily, her happiness manifesting its way out of her body from her soul. And then came the sinking realization as he began to let go of her. He seemed to have felt it too as he leaned down once again to press a kiss to her forehead.
"Go," she told him lightly, before she bit her lip. He nodded once, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from her and walk out of the room. He made no noise at all leaving, and when she finally walked into the living area, he was gone.
A/N: This update was long overdue, thank you for being patient. These last two chapters were a little messy, but hopefully still comprehensible. As always feedback is appreciated and welcomed, thank you!