At first, Evan was intensely worried for the boy. The inside of Harry's mind looked rather identical to Number 4 Privet Drive, only without the unpleasant people. Upstairs, the doors were always closed, and out of respect, Evan never opened them – but downstairs was a different story. The kitchen was always stocked well – though not with food. Harry's mental refrigerator was filled with memories. If one were to turn the burners of the stove, instead of a visible fire they'd be overwhelmed with a scent that Harry had emotional attachment to. The living room had a television, and on it, Harry's life played from his point of view – it was always on.
At the moment, Harry's body had just appeared inside of his mind, sprawled out across the surprisingly soft living room carpet. This was expected, with the ritual that Lucius had just performed. What was concerning was that Harry was unconscious on the floor, and the television that was usually showing his life was instead playing a disruptive static sound. The picture was grainy but mostly black, and Evan couldn't make out anything.
Then, slowly, the picture showed the muggle park, and a confused Harry making his way back to his muggle home, not quite sure why he'd gone to the park in the first place. Evan realized, with great fascination – that the television was now showing the half of Harry's mind that had no knowledge of magic or the existence of Evan's watch... but what did that mean for his Harry? Would the boy on the carpet wake? Or was he stuck in the limbo of the ritual, trying to cling to both sides of himself and trapped in a world of blackness?
Rosier sighed, and sat down on the floor next to the boy, watching on the television as the soon-to-be-Golden-Boy version of Harry was thrown harshly into the cupboard by his Uncle for disappearing without telling them where he was going.
Ah. The cupboard. Shakily, Evan turned away from the television, and through the open archway, into the hallway. He could see the door to the cupboard under the stairs, with its many locks and bolts – even more here than it had in the real world. He stood, and walked over to it, pressing his palm against it and releasing a low pleased groan as the familiar magic tingled against his skin.
This was the only truly locked door of Harry's mind, though Evan was fairly sure that Harry was not the one who locked it. A ten year old boy didn't make a decent occlumense no matter the magical skill, and besides … he could feel the power pulsing in that cupboard – and it was not Harry Potter's.
"I am worried for him, My Lord," Evan whispered against the deceptively strong wood of the cupboard door. "I am worried for myself, because I wish that I had not already come to care for him, but more than that, I am worried that he will not wake here, and all we have done is sealed off every part of him that could have had potential forever... What if he truly does choose Dumbledore in the end now, because he has no memory of me? It will be my fault that it happened..."
Evan did not expect a response from the soul shard that he knew was behind the door. He knew that if the soul wanted to – it could speak to him. After all, Evan was merely a soul shard himself, and this wasn't even his domain. This was the home of Voldemort's Horcrux. It had nearly as much power here as Harry did. More, at the moment, because Harry was unable to control the goings on of his mind while he was passed out in it.
Evan touched the wood again, and frowned – he couldn't feel his lord's magic on it anymore, but for a feint tingle that told him he hadn't imagined it the first time. Had Lord Voldemort gone to a different part of Harry because Evan was annoying him?
Hoping this was not the case, Evan promptly abandoned the locked cupboard and walked back into the living room, where the previously corpse-like Harry was now twitching slightly, his eyes moving at a rapid pace beneath their lids as if he was seeing a thousand things at once. Sitting beside him again, Evan stayed there with Harry for days, watching the television, and waiting for the event he knew would soon occur: Harry's Hogwarts letter.
XxBxExLxOxVxExDxX
It did not happen quickly, but eventually the blackness faded. It was now a dull and flickering gray mist, but Harry was still lost and disoriented. He knew that this was because he'd been so afraid, and it was impossible to do this sort of magic unless you were completely unaware of it or completely willing. After all – it was your mind. Sure, another person could read it, destroy it, or even live in it – but to control it? Impossible. That sort of thing had to be allowed to happen, or done so slowly and subtly that you didn't notice. Harry had allowed it to happen – but only just. He had been terrified, and resisted just at the end.
The first thing he saw in the endless gray was the color red. Two bright spots of it, coming closer to him. Then, a body – arms, legs, head, torso. The red spots were eyes, and the red-eyed man was coming towards him. Oddly, Harry felt relieved by this.
When the man neared him, it was as if the mist cleared just so that Harry could see him in perfect clarity and still nothing else. He had pale, white skin. He looked to be a young adult, between twenty and thirty. For some reason, Harry needed to know just exactly how old he was. Probably because Harry's own birthday was soon.
"I am sixty-four," The man said, as if responding to Harry's stray thought. Harry did not believe him though – he looked much younger than that. The man laughed, a sound full of entertainment but no true happiness. Harry was fascinated by it.
"I could also tell you that I am nine. Would you believe that easier than sixty-four?"
Harry scoffed. Nine? As if. No way this guy was a year younger than he was. Deciding that maybe the issue of the man's age wasn't the most important issue at hand, Harry resolved to come back to it at a later point in time.
"What's your name?" Harry asked, curiously, "I know you're not Evan."
The man didn't give his name, though he did offer an award-winning smile. "Is that so? How can you be so sure that I'm not Rosier?"
"You're scary in a different way," Harry said calmly. "I'm not actually afraid of Evan, you see – because he's not the type to stick round for years secretly hating you. He'd have killed me by now if he wanted to, I think. Plus he says he's got plans for me to be of service to the Dark Lord, and Evan takes the Dark Lord very seriously."
The man smirked at this, "Is that so?" He mused, "That's good to know. So, because I'm curious – Are you afraid of me, Harry?"
The boy nodded, casually. "Yes, sir. Very much. I'm inside of my own mind and I have no idea who you are. Aside from that, you have the sort of voice that makes a person want to tell you everything about themselves all at once, and I try not to trust voices like that."
"Why not?"
Harry frowned. The reason was that every school nurse he'd ever known had that sort of voice, and all of them ignored his obvious malnourishment anyway, which told him they weren't kind people. Whereas his classroom teacher had a tendency to be very strict and brisk – but made a habit of bringing an extra lunch every day and discreetly giving it to Harry. But he didn't want to tell the man that reason, because he did not know him. His aunt Petunia also had that sort of voice, but it was only because she was a nosy gossip.
"Because Evan says not to." It was a lie. He knew it was a lie, and he knew that the man knew that it was a lie, also.
"I see." The man said, giving him a very interesting look, as if he was observing some sort of fascinating creature in its natural habitat. "Would you like to take a little walk with me, Harry?"
Harry thought this over. If he was really inside of himself, there was no place that this man could take him that would be of harm to him, was there?
"Alright," He agreed, accepting a hand that was offered to him and beginning to walk through the strange and mysterious dark mist that seemed to go on as far as the eye could see. "Are you cold?" Harry asked, looking up at the man's face.
"No. Are you?"
"Uh-uh..." Harry replied, shaking his head, "Your hand feels like ice, though."
"Hmm... Yes, my skin always feels that way. A friend of mine always thought so, but she never worked up the courage to complain about it." The man murmured companionably, and Harry frowned. There was something … too relaxed, about this guy. It was as if he had absolutely no worries at all, but not in the way Harry was care-free. It was not because he felt safe with his location, or safe with his current company. He was just confident. Absurdly so. As if anything the world managed to throw at him would prove not challenging at all. He behaved like he was invincible – immortal, completely untouchable.
"So you're not going to tell me who you are, then?" He asked, recalling that the man hadn't really answered when Harry had asked for his name.
"I've been trying to find you in here for six days now," the man replied, "It's very spacious here, and it seemed to be the kind of dark that one's eyes do not get used to with time."
"Has it been so long?" Harry inquired, "It feels as if I've only arrived."
The man smiled companionably down at Harry, and he felt something bubbling pleasantly in is chest that felt similar to friendship. "In this limbo between your minds, time is sped up greatly. It's a common tool that Lucius uses, this way if you travel through the limbo between your minds, you won't get from one consciousness to another fast enough to change anything instantly."
"I don't understand," Harry said, "Could you explain how that works?"
"Your mind has been split into two beings of awareness, both of which are – for all intents and purposes – Harry James Potter. Are you with me so far?"
Harry nodded, having already understood that much from what Lucius and Evan had been telling him.
"There is one part of you that has had its memories changed so that it will not remember anything to do with the Wizarding World. That part of you controls your body, and has its own mental space. Then, there is the universe within your mind that is controlled by you, the part of yourself that remembers everything."
Harry nodded along.
"And then, there is the space between those two minds, which is where we are now. This space is huge, and designed for time to move much more quickly. This way, if someone were to invade the other Harry Potter's mind, and came across this space, they would take so much time going through it that by the time they reached the other space, you could have already altered it into anything you want, because while to them it would feel like it only took them a few minutes, it would really have been several hours."
Harry sighed, he still didn't understand as much as he'd have liked to, but it made a bit more sense now. "So it feels like we've been walking for ten minutes tops. How much real world time is that?"
"One day and ten hours. Each minute here is three-point-four hours in actual time."
Harry, having always been good at math, grinned. "So when you said you'd been looking for me for six days, it only meant a little over forty minutes here."
The man smirked, "Makes it seem like a lot less effort, I suppose."
Harry stopped walking then, and gave the man a cruel and accusing glare. "Hey! You must think you're really good at avoiding questions, don't you? What's your name, huh? Just bloody answer me already!"
"No need to get angry, child." The man answered, "Anyway, we're here."
And they were. Harry could vaguely make out the shape of a door that appeared to be almost directly in front of him. The man opened it, revealing a blinding white light that somehow didn't project outward to battle the darkness, but instead stayed within the threshold. The man then gestured, as if to say 'after you,' and Harry took a step forward before turning back.
"Will I see you on the other side?" He asked, though not hopefully.
"Does it matter?"
"Not really,"
"Then I shall not waste either of our time by answering."
Harry blinked, and the man was gone. Seeing no other sound option, he took another step towards the white light, and walked through the door.
It was like being blinded for sixty second and then suddenly remembering how to see. When his eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was someone standing over him.
It was a man, roughly six feet in height, and disturbingly pale, though not as white as the red-eyed stranger. His hair fell to his shoulders in wiry disturbed curls, their color so inky black that it seemed to be a rainbow, while still undoubtedly a deep obsidian. Lips were a fearsome blood red, and smiling maniacally, which revealed perfect pearly-white teeth. And two eyes, like storm clouds that rained menace rather than water.
Even though Harry had never seen the man before, he knew exactly who it was without being told.
"Evan." He said, decisively.
"Right on your first guest!" Evan said, "Get it? Cus I'm a parasitic soul shard visiting in your head? Ah, never mind me and my horcrux humor… How was your fortnight in limbo? Black? Mysterious?"
Harry shrugged. "It was boring, actually. And it didn't feel that long…" Harry looked around, frowning. "Why does my mind look like the Dursley's?"
"I think this may be the only structure you know well enough to mentally upkeep. According to Lucius, my mind looks like the Slytherin dorms."
Harry supposed that if it was a reason as practical as that, he could tolerate the Dursley's house. Besides, it wasn't nearly so bad without them in it. He looked over to the television, and frowned, seeing a rather startling image of a Walrus flopping around atop a struggling owl, as if to suffocate it, whilst a horse and a baby elephant looked on.
"The Other Harry is having a dream," Evan explained, looking mildly amused.
Harry's frown deepened, thoroughly disturbed by the image. "Has the Hogwarts Letter come yet?" He asked.
He wouldn't admit it, but he was slightly worried that the letter wouldn't come with his mind like that. The letters were magically sent out, he'd heard, and he was worried that with his magical core being used to upkeep two entirely different people, there might not be enough magic left for the Hogwarts system to detect. What if he wasn't even technically a wizard anymore? Evan had, of course, assured him that splitting of the mind had almost nothing to do with the magical core and that he wasn't even sure that's how the whole letter distribution thing worked anyway, but Harry was still concerned.
"Yes," Evan said moodily, "It's come several times, actually. Vernon isn't letting you read them, thus far. Not to worry, though – You being who you are and all, there's no way Dumbledore would let you slip through the cracks. You're guaranteed to attend."
Harry was somewhat comforted by that thought, at least. He opened his mouth to say as much but stopped when he heard Evan gasp. The man released a low growling moan, and a disturbingly gleeful grin spread across his face, turning his handsome features insane. He walked up to what Harry recognized as some sort of maximum security edition of the cupboard under the stairs and placed his face against it, purring deep in his chest.
"He came back," Evan murmured, sliding down the door and resting his head against it in a way that was somehow devoted rather than relaxed, "Can you feel it, Harry? Do you feel his power pumping through your veins like a drug?"
The simple answer to that question would have been 'no,'. However, as Harry approached the door – he did feel it. Probably not as strongly as Evan did. After all, Evan's dark mark would be a part of him forever. No matter what. The part of The Dark Lord that was inside of Harry wasn't connected to him here by anything other than the fact that they were both here in the first place. Sure, he was living inside of Harry – but so was Harry.
"It feels…" The boy bit his lip, trying to think of how to describe it as he took a step closer to the door and the magic thickened and intensified, "It feels as if my body is happy without my mind having any say in it."
Evan laughed, and his disturbed eyes flitted over to Harry, "Yes, well. There are a lot of scenario's that can be described that way. You'll learn about those in another couple of years."
Harry frowned. "What happens in a couple of years?"
"Puberty." Evan deadpanned, making a sour face as if this was a very unpleasant thing that he was not looking forward to Harry going through. His eyes brightened then, and he looked back and forth between the cupboard door and the child standing before him, "Harry," He began, sounding gently curious. Harry knew that this was Evan's 'please tell me the whole truth' voice. "How was it that you said you found your way here?"
XxBxExLxOxVxExDxX
Lucius had no idea how Narcissa had managed to lose Draco in Diagon Alley. Honestly! The woman was completely incompetent in every way.
Okay, so that wasn't exactly the most truthful thing he'd ever thought about her – but in that moment he was so concerned for his son that he couldn't be bothered with whether or not he was thinking rude things about his wife's parenting skills. Draco was lost. That didn't even make any sense. He'd last been seen getting his robes at Madam Malkins and now he was nowhere to be found. He'd simply wandered off somewhere and disappeared.
It had been hours. Lucius had decided to get a room at the Leaky Cauldron while the ministry workers were searching for his son. Narcissa was sitting stone still in the corner, making the chair she was perched atop look deceptively gracious. She was the one providing the grace, not the shabby wing-back, but the tension she was radiating was distinctly opposing to anything delicate.
"Won't you stop all that incessant pacing, Lucius? It's driving me absolutely insane." She wrung her hands aggressively, and Lucius rewarded her with a small piece of obedience, taking a seat across from her so that the coffee table was between them.
"Tell me," Lucius began, taking a deep breath. "Tell me again what happened."
"I've told you a hundred times," Narcissa hissed out in agitation, "I picked up a wand that Ollivander said might suit him and went back to Madam Malkins and he was just …"
"Gone. Right." Lucius bit out, trying not to sound as furious with his wife as he really was.
"You were right next door," Narcissa argued in an accusatory tone, "Why didn't you look after him?"
Lucius bit the inside of his cheek but didn't answer. He'd answered that question already plenty of times. Their agreement was that Narcissa was to take Draco with her to get wanded. There was no excuse for why she wasn't with him at Madam Malkins in the first place. She just wanted the damn boy to end up with a wand more representative of the Black family than the Malfoy's. Honestly, was blood pride more important than the safety of their son? Couldn't Lucius buy the boy his damned books without having to monitor the child when he was left with his own mother?
His mental rant was, thankfully, interrupted by the door bursting open.
Draco was a sight for sore eyes, though incredibly filthy. He looked as if he'd been digging through dirt, and a look towards the doorway revealed that the boy had probably been doing just that.
"Oh my," Narcissa exclaimed, cutting her eyes sharply at Lucius as if the man who'd entered with their son was something vile that she oughtn't have been forced to see.
Typical woman. She did all that worrying about their son and she was more concerned with the other man in the room. Jealous wench.
"You're dead." Narcissa said harshly, staring with cruel eyes, "And what have you done to my son?"
"Asking a dead man questions, Cissy? You can't expect an answer, my love," The man responded with a smirk. "Lucius,"
Lucius felt shivers run down his spine as his name was spoken, and tried to pretend that Narcissa hadn't noticed.
"Yes, Evan?" He asked, letting his eyes meet with those terrifying gray storm cloud irises and thinking for a moment that he was lost in them.
"Come spend the night at my estate with me, we have a lot to talk about."
Lucius was thinking on one hand that this was excruciatingly offensive to Narcissa, who wasn't stupid. On the other hand, they did have a lot to talk about. Aside from the fact that Evan had clearly found a way to make Draco dig up his grave – Lucius still hadn't discussed with his former lover whether or not their little project with Harry Potter had worked out or not.
"Go make sure the fireplace isn't crumbling, and I'll floo over in an hour," Lucius responded, quietly. He couldn't even look at Narcissa, knowing already the horror that would meet him if he took even the smallest glance towards her usually emotionless face. Evan was anything but subtle with the stare he was giving Lucius. The dark-haired man nodded quite slowly and then disappeared with a soft crack leaving Lucius with the lingering thought that it would not take a full night to discuss the things that needed talking about.
Narcissa didn't speak a word, she gripped Draco tight, and disapperated on the spot with him. Lucius sighed, knowing that he would be hearing an earful about this at a later point, but not caring. He had just seen Evan. Evan Rosier had just been standing there, hardly even three feet away from him – for the first time in years. That felt like something that Narcissa could never give him. He couldn't be in the room with someone who he loved so much and take concern over silly things like the sanctity of matrimony.
After all, even the best of wizards kept lovers on the side. Especially men of his family's stature. Why should he be the exception?
A voice in his head was telling him that he was a good person, and he knew better than to do this to his wife; but his more Slytherin side wasn't going to let that get in the way of doing what he most wanted to do at any given moment – and at that moment, what he wanted most was to see Evan's face again. To touch Evan's face again, and kiss his lips, and remember what it was like to be in the arms of someone that loved you.
And so, he threw the powder into the fire, and followed his deepest desires.
When he woke in the morning, naked but for a sheet, he felt alive in a way that he hadn't for a very long time. Beside him, Evan was sitting up in bed. Still unclothed, he was running a brush through his untamed inky locks of hair, and Lucius was fascinated with watching the way that the curls rebelliously went back to their previous position after the bristles ran through them.
"You couldn't wait the full hour," Evan commented, smiling down at Lucius. It was the first time they'd actually talked having gotten caught up in other activities directly after Lucius flooed in from The Leaky Cauldron. "I apologize deeply for worrying you over your son yesterday, Lucius. It's very difficult to possess the Harry Potter that I'm not used to, and the best command I could give him was to slip the pocket watch to the first child he met. I had no idea that it would be Draco."
Lucius nodded, having already figured as much. He had seen the Hogwarts game-keeper wobbling about with two cones of ice cream towards Madam Malkins and inferred that Harry must have been inside. It was just like Dumbledore to send that towering buffoon to look after the child. Absolutely ridiculous. He knew though, that had if Evan had used any other child to dig up his body, the child would never have seen its parents again. And so, for this, he was glad that it had been Draco – because at least no young life was lost.
"What made you decide to dig your body up yesterday?" He asked, thanking whatever forces were on his side that Evan was still completely undressed as he drank in every inch of the man. Those preservation charms Evan was talking about really were perfect. He didn't look a day older than his nineteen year old self. Suddenly, Lucius thought to be self-conscious, knowing that his body most certainly wasn't what it used to be. He pulled the sheet tighter around his shoulders, catching the slight frown that Evan gave at the action.
"I needed to see you," Evan explained, setting the brush down on his end table and pulling his hair into a piled up disoriented bun that sat atop his head like some kind of demented rain cloud. "Harry got caught in limbo between his minds and-"
"Is he alright?" Lucius asked frantically, more worried for the child than he'd later admit.
"Obviously I wouldn't have left his mind if he wasn't, Luc!" Evan exclaimed with exasperation, "That's only the beginning of what I have to say." He scolded, firmly.
"Then by all means, continue."
"Harry got caught in limbo," Evan began again, giving Lucius a sharp look that warned not to interrupt, "And The Dark Lord got him out,"
Lucius blink several times, opened his mouth, and then closed it again, thinking. He frowned, and said the only thing he could think to say: "The Dark Lord did what?"
"He appeared before Harry, not as we knew him – but as our fathers did, young, and charming, and human. He led him from one side to the next, and then retreated to his home within Harry's mind. Harry does not know who he was, and I do not plan on telling him – but we should take this as a sign, Lucius. The Dark Lord's Horcrux has accepted Harry as his disciple, or he would not have helped him at all. Maybe when The Dark Lord returns we can-"
"You're thinking too far into this, Evan," Lucius cut him off, and earned a very heated glare for doing so twice in one brief conversation, "It isn't for us to decide what His actions mean. For all we know, He might have only saved Harry because he wanted some chance of Harry going insane. There's no telling with Him, and I, for one, will not be crucio'd within an inch of my life for making assumptions that aren't any of my business to make."
Evan looked severely frustrated. The way he always did when he thought he was making sense but everyone else insisted that he wasn't. Lucius hated letting him down, but he wasn't going to risk his own neck trying to understand The Dark Lord's mind and motives. He decided to change the subject.
"What else did we need to talk about?"
Evan was getting dressed now, and it was a bit of a let-down.
"I need you to do something for me, and you're not going to like it once I tell you,"
Lucius didn't feel that he needed to respond. He had never said it – and he never would – but there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Evan. Just as there was nothing Evan wouldn't do for him. They both knew that.
"I haven't truly merged with my body," Evan started, fingering the pocket-watch that had remained snapped around his wrist like a bracelet throughout the entire night, "I'm simply inhabiting it for the moment," He explained.
Lucius saw where this was going; and Evan had been right, he didn't like this direction at all.
"You don't think it's time to really come back yet," Lucius concluded, sounded appropriately grim, "You're giving me this night with you, because you know I can't bear not having it, but you intend to remain inside of Potter's mind until he doesn't need you there anymore, which will take Merlin-knows-how-long."
Evan didn't respond directly to any of that. Or at least, not really. "I need you to take care of my body, while I am not in it – the way you took such excellent care of my soul, though you didn't even know what it was."
Lucius refused to answer. He would do it, of course, because he didn't really see another option. But, he was furious with Evan for putting him in this position. What did he look like taking care of a corpse? He was already a suspected Death Eater, and the closer the Dark Lord got to reaching his full power, the more in danger Lucius and his family would be. That's what it was like on the losing side of a war – until you won, you had lost. There were no brief moments of victory. How on earth would Lucius care for Evan's body, when he'd be sent straight to Azkaban if the ministry found it in one of those ridiculous raids that Arthur Weasley was getting increasingly fond of?
"Keep it here," Evan supplied, as if he'd read his lover's mind, "You and I are the only people keyed into this Estate's wards anymore, and the only person strong enough to break the wards down would never mean me any harm that I did not deserve,"
Lucius thought that, at times, Evan's devotion to their Lord was mildly horrifying. He also thought that Dumblefuck could break the wards down, but the old coot liked to stay relatively uninvolved with politics unless it had to do with something directly against the Dark Lord himself, and would have no reason to break into the Rosier Estate. Especially if he, like the rest of the world, thought the entire Rosier family to be dead.
"How am I to get the watch back to Harry?"
Evan buttoned up his shirt perfectly and began putting on his robes, "Take me out to breakfast someplace lovely, like you used to in the summer after I'd come back from my visits to France with father."
Lucius raised an eyebrow, "You mean back when we could go out to eat and no one would question why you were alive?"
Evan grinned, "So take me someplace very lovely. I was thinking Cyprus, but if you're not up for that sort of food, I'm willing to do Korea instead. I've had a hankering for some kimchi for nearly three years now…"
"You want me to arrange an international portkey so we can go to breakfast?"
Evan shrugged, playfully, "What's the point of becoming a big fancy ministry buff if you can't even whip yourself up an international portkey?"
It was true. Lucius most certainly could "whip himself up" almost anything that he wanted that a normal person would need ministry licensing for, but this still didn't answer his original question. "Evan, you've practically insisted on having your soul returned to Harry and now you want to go to Cyprus for breakfast?"
"He won't need me back around until he's at Hogwarts,"
Lucius' first thought was that it was too good to be true.
"A month?" He whispered, hardly believing that he could get so much time with his beloved.
"Three and a half weeks," Evan corrected, "The pocket watch will have to be returned to him before he reaches the platform. If I'm not hidden behind the mind barrier you built, the wards will detect the dark magic."
It was still almost a month, though. Lucius knew that it would be good for him. He wondered how it would be for Harry, though – trapped alone in his mind, watching his other self. But then again, Harry wasn't really alone, was he?
Lucius thought more of the day he'd first seen the child, and that brief flash of glowing red eyes. No, Harry wasn't alone at all.
A/N: Okay I'm sorry for all the EvanXLucius in this, but certain things had to be mentioned and them and Harry are basically the only three people who even know what's going on. So.
Please feel free to leave me a review. I much enjoy reading them. Sorry for any spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, or typos! They won't be fixed because I'm working on other crap. (ain't nobody got time fo dat)
Much love to you all!
-Beloved