Let the Rain Come Down

This was, I admit, an unexpected sequel to the original one shot, but when Edward starting panicking in my head, I had to stop and listen to him.

There will be more to follow. At this point I don't know how many chapters, but I decided to split what I had already and get the first part posted for you all.

Beta'd by mxpi1970

Disclaimer: All characters owned and created by Stephenie Meyer.

~o.O.o~

Chapter 2

Edward's POV

"Jasper? Jasper, no; you're not well."

I reached for his hand, trying stop him from pulling on his thin work shirt. He shrugged my hand away to fasten his jeans.

"I have to, Edward. The rent is due and we're short." He sounded winded, his actions costing him effort. "Do you have work today?"

"Sure, later, only my regular hour though I think. No one needs me today so I'm just sweeping up tonight."

The occasional extra income from me helping out other market vendors meant we could buy a tiny bit more food, but then we risked not making rent. We walked a knife edge between having a roof over our heads and keeping ourselves fed, but it relied on us both earning. With Jasper sick I wanted to do more, to keep him in bed in the warm to recover from sounded like the start of the flu.

He finished dressing, and I saw that he was shivering. The room was cold like always, but it was frosty outdoors and I hated him standing out there with a temperature and only a shirt so thin you could count his ribs through it, offering no warmth or protection from the weather.

I tried again.

"I know we're short this week – I'll come up with something. I'll ask around; we still have two days. Please – stay inside today."

I had no idea how I was going to raise the money, but seeing him going out there to do whatever the men wanted of him made me hate them and the way they abused him for a few measly bucks. If I could find a way, any way of getting him off the streets then I would do it. I watched him pull on his old jacket, watched him snuggle into it enjoying it for a few brief moments before he had to stash it behind the wall. As he always did, he turned to hug me before he went out to the road. His hands were like ice and I pulled him in tight to me, trying to share my body heat with him. I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in for that last moment before I had to let him go. There was just time for one sweet kiss to warm his cold lips before he turned and headed for the door.

Blondie was on the clock.

~o.O.o~

Washing was a fast, efficient business. The bathroom housed a toilet and a single sink with cold running water; it was an icebox in the winter. The landlord didn't bother to heat it and we never asked him to – the likely outcome would be an increase in rent which would see us living on the street. We paid him, we kept quiet about the state of the place, and everything rolled on day after day. I wondered how long it would take him to increase it anyway because there were two of us living there now; I had no idea how we could cope. I worried more and more about Jasper. He'd told me in bed a few nights back that he had had offers of more money to go without a condom and he had refused, but what if that meant the difference between a home and the alley?

The thought of going back there was bad enough.

The thought of losing Jasper was terrifying.

~o.O.o~

Determined to prove I could do more, I walked to the market and headed up past Mike's hotdog and burger trailer. Mike was setting up, the familiar smell of sizzling beef filling the immediate vicinity. He saw me and nodded in greeting.

"Hey, Edward! Jess has a pre-natal check-up today."

He looked both nervous and excited. I grinned.

"Not long now!"

His eyebrows rose so high they all but disappeared into his hair and he began chopping onions with considerable zeal. The father-to-be was getting anxious now the day was drawing close.

"Don't remind me! There's still so much to do before the baby comes."

"Let me know how it goes!"

He carried on with his prep, and I waved before heading off to see Tyler on the fruit and vegetable stand. He also owned the whole foods stand next door, run by his wife, Lauren. Jasper and I ate well – at least our food was fresh – but I knew that we didn't eat enough. I needed to know what food to buy to help him get well and to build his immune system. I had no real idea of nutrition. After all, living out of trash cans didn't give you the most rounded diet. I knew Jas gave me more food – he wanted to make me strong and well, but at what cost? He worked and needed his strength too. I hated what he did – I knew he did too – but as a source of income for rent he couldn't afford to stop. That didn't stop me worrying though. I worried that he might get sick and not be able to recover. Who knew what lay ahead for us, either of us? The risks for Jas were greater, and I wanted him free of that life. Free from the abuse he tolerated at the hands of paying strangers in order for us to survive. More than anything I wanted to make money. I wanted to support us, to free us from this life that held us in its iron manacles.

My only steady income was my nightly sweep up gig after closing, but I had gotten to know the other stallholders and they trusted me. After I'd been there a few weeks, I had been called over by Paul, one of the flower vendors, and been asked if I would cover him for a few minutes while he went off to take a phone call. I was waiting to start cleaning up and so it was no problem for me to stand cover for him, but the fact that he trusted me made me feel 10 feet tall. I even made a sale before he returned: nothing major, just a bunch of sunflowers, but Paul was pleased. After that, I would spend most of the day in the market, helping anyone who needed it. A couple of dollars extra from helping out made a world of difference to our budget. When I started covering for an hour at a time, the money went towards any rent shortage we encountered in bad weather, and paid for extra non-perishable food. Each evening Jas would come find me, and together we would buy our meal for that night. We still bought the cheapest we could, there was no money to waste and no food could be thrown away. We ate everything we had.

I grew uneasy that evening when the market was set to close and he didn't appear. With no phone or means to contact him, I made stops at each stall to gather essentials for supper, finding vegetables, scrawny chicken legs, and a tiny piece of leftover cheese, more wax than cheese to be honest, and for that reason it cost very little. I planned to make chicken and vegetable broth for our main meal and so I had spent almost all of that day's wages, managing to afford a small pot of honey and a jar of the cheapest coffee known to man.

Carrying my bag, I headed home, sure that I would pass Jasper on the way. He must have had a busy day – he would never be late or not show. The first raindrops fell and my step quickened. I hoped Jas was in the dry – that shirt would be saturated in seconds. With his chest he didn't need that. Breaking into a run, I held the bag handles together to keep our food dry. It was darker than usual, the sky foreboding. Pulling my coat in tight around me against the biting wind, common sense reminded me that Jas never stayed out when the weather was bad, unless he's in a warm, dry car, my subconscious reminded me. I always tried to forget the things he had to do for us that he did without complaint every single day. I did my best not to comment on the bruises, the scuffs on his hands from holding on to a wall, the other marks that were only visible to someone who saw him naked. Fingertip bruises on his hips and neck were bookmarks in a story I didn't ever want to read. He had told me once that he knew his place was to be merely a receptacle - a mouth or an ass. No john he ever met ever asked to suck him, nor be fucked by him. His needs were ignored. Sometimes his throat would be sore, inflamed by a rough client who thought it okay to misuse my beautiful boy. My boy. Because he was mine and I didn't want anyone's hands on him.

I liked to bathe him at night, soothing caresses to wash off the sullying touch and smell of others, to relax him and ease him into a restful sleep alongside me. At night, when we cuddled close together, I was able to hold him and show him best I could the love I felt for him every minute of every day.

More than anything, I loved it when we kissed – that was when the world fell away, leaving us in a safe, loving cocoon. Love was new to me; I'd never received it before Jasper, nor had I ever given it or wanted to. It was an amazing feeling. I wanted to show him how I felt, to show him the tender touch he was denied day after day, year after year. I just wished I wasn't so scared. I wanted to make him happy, but each time I considered it, the nightmares would return; Jasper would hold me tight, rocking me like a child until I quieted. It had been over two months since we met and I wondered if he longed for more, if he hoped our relationship would ever progress to a more mature level.

He deserved more than an emotionally damaged boy from the street.

I reached home without meeting Jas, and fear was starting to set in. Closing the outside door behind me, I went to unlock the door to our room and found it open. With a caution bred from experience, I snuck inside, prepared for... what? Who would ever rob us? We had nothing. Placing the food on the counter, I looked over at the bed and saw a shape under the blankets. From where I stood I could see he was huddled up, his breathing sounding far harsher than it had when I had left him that morning. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I rubbed his shoulder to let him know I was home. He was shivering and felt feverish even through the blankets. It looked as if I had been right – he had the flu. This meant two things. Firstly – he couldn't work, and secondly, I could contract it too. I wanted to stay home and nurse him through it, but I knew I had to work tomorrow.

This was bad.

Trying to find a light at the end of the tunnel, I remembered I had bought the ingredients to make chicken broth that would, I hoped, help him recover a little quicker. I had also spent precious funds on the honey to make him a soothing drink for his throat when he came home sore. I set to work, boiling water and preparing the ingredients as I had seen Jasper do every day. I had asked Eric, the meat vendor, how to make it, and he had told me about bouillon and pointed me to another stand. I guess anyone else would have been embarrassed to ask for just one cube, but Jas and I were past that. After her initial surprise, Angela had pressed one into my hand with a smile, along with an individually wrapped pat of butter left over from her lunch, and told me to get on home. I promised to cover her stand whenever she needed it, and she brushed off my thanks.

I boiled the water first and made weak coffee for me and honey in hot water for Jasper. Leaving them to cool a little, I then cooked the chicken and set it aside, washing out the pan before starting off the vegetables in the butter. I added the flour and chicken stock, stirring and then leaving it to simmer as I had been told. Carrying the hot honey drink to the bed, I set it down and felt his forehead.

He was clammy.

"Jasper? Wake up, Jas. I need you to drink this."

He woke with a groan, gasping in pain when he tried to sit up. I reached over and tugged my pillow out from under the blankets, setting it behind his shoulders.

"Thanks."

"What happened since this morning? Is it the flu? You're running a fever."

He shook his head, the movement seeming to tire him.

"My chest really hurts, like someone is stabbing me. It hurts to breathe. I just need some sleep – so tired. Just can't get comfortable."

Worry unfurled its wings in my own chest. I felt a cold, gripping fear that something was very wrong. I held out the drink and he took it, my hand supporting the cup while he drank.

"You're cooking?" His wan face looked surprised.

"Yeah; I got some helpful tips from a couple of people at the market. We're having chicken broth – I want to help you get strong again."

"How did you afford it on a couple of dollars?" He looked worried, and I was quick to allay his fears.

"It's okay – I didn't touch the rent money. I got an hour's work covering Lauren over lunch today. I got us a few extras like the honey and some coffee. It's mostly dust, but it's better than just drinking hot water."

"Was there anything left?"

I felt cold then.

"No, I used it on tonight's meal with some cheese for breakfast. What's wrong?"

His face screwed up in anguish, and to my horror, I thought he was going to cry.

"I didn't earn anything today. We won't make rent." Ice slithered down my spine. "As soon as I leaned over, I couldn't breathe. The guy didn't want anything to do with a sick hustler and he threw me out of the car."

He sounded humiliated. I tried to make him feel better.

"It's not your fault! You can't help getting sick, especially being out there every day in the cold. I'll find a way to get the money. I don't want you worrying about this." I tucked the blankets up around his shoulders and fetched his scarf from the chair, winding it loosely around his neck and shoulders. "Are you hungry?"

He nodded. I went back to the saucepan and added the cooked chicken, stirring it to heat it through. It smelled pretty good. Ladling it out into two bowls, I grabbed the spoons and carried the bowls to the bed, setting them on the chair. Folding our thin towels, I made us potholders so we could both eat in comfort. The soup tasted good and I was glad it was too hot to gulp down; I had to take my time to eat it. Jasper struggled to eat his, but persevered. I could see that every mouthful was painful and not because of a sore throat. His breathing appeared laboured, and he was having difficulty swallowing. I kept watch to make sure he ate as much as he could, needing the essential nourishment to get well.

When we had both finished, I washed the pan and bowls before settling in for the night and climbing into bed with my boy. He seemed to breathe easier when propped up, so I made sure his chest was well covered with a thick sweater before I laid down, my head on one of the towels we had used as a potholder.

I didn't sleep much that night.

~o.O.o~

I dozed off at some point and woke up feeling alone. I realised it was because I usually slept tight against Jasper, but with him sick I had had to give him space. Turning over, I looked up to see how he was and found him slumped to the side, apparently asleep. It was still early, the light not yet filtering through the trees. Double checking to make sure Jas was okay, I dressed in my jeans and sweater, shrugging on my too-big coat and fastening it up to the collar. It was time to go get some essentials.

I stepped out into the frigid early morning air. The run-down part of the city where we lived was quiet for now, the sound of traffic and the trains no more than a dull rattle in the distance. I walked with purpose, no time to lose. This operation could only be carried out in near darkness – I had no desire to be arrested for trying to survive. Approaching the shopping center, I looked around, checking for staff or passersby. The coast clear, I darted across the parking lot to where the clothing donation bins were situated off to the side. A few months back, I had discovered that one of these bins had a broken latch, and with a little effort could be opened and the contents accessed. My coat had been a lucky find and had most likely saved my life. Now I needed its help again. I knew what I was doing was theft in its basic definition, but it was hard to differentiate when the clothes were being collected for thrift stores to help the poor and needy – and what were Jasper and I if not poor and needy? We had no money to buy from the thrift stores; to me this was just cutting out the middle man.

Locating the bin, I tugged open the door a fraction and peered inside into the gloom. It looked to be about a third full and I hoped that there would be something useful for us. My hands felt around for anything thick and woolly, and after a few moments I pulled loose a towel that looked fine – there were no holes and, most importantly, no strange odours. I folded it and tucked it into my coat. The next thing I found was a sweater, but a glance showed me it was a child's. Ferreting deeper, I struck gold – what felt like a hand-knitted blanket large enough to cover the bed. I added this to my coat, now bulked out to capacity, before one last feel around in the dark bin. My fingers found more knitted goods and with a pull, I found what appeared to be a very festive men's sweater. Pushing the door closed, I snagged some brightly coloured socks that fell out onto the asphalt and added them to my pockets. Mission accomplished, I checked around before heading home at a brisk pace.

~o.O.o~

Jas was still asleep when I crept in and locked the door. Slipping off my clothes, I climbed back into bed, checking he was breathing okay before lying back down to spend another couple of hours worrying about our money situation.

Acquiring clothes from donation bins by nefarious means was one thing, to me that was an act of desperation that could be mitigated, but stealing from actual people was something I could never do. We needed rent money and it was down to me to find a way. To begin with, I had four dollars saved up for a special Christmas surprise for Jasper. It wasn't enough yet – I needed at least $11 – but now it had to be added to the pot. Checking the money under the mattress, I found that with my four dollars added in we were still $20 short, with only today left to make it up.

My regular hour would help, but I would need more work throughout the day and I pondered ways of increasing my income that would benefit both us and the vendors.

Jasper woke early, a cough racking his body. He whined with pain, clutching his chest, his eyes wide with agony. I fetched him a drink to calm the dryness of his throat and offered him a little bread and cheese for breakfast. He refused, his chest hurting too much to eat. I made sure he was able to get to the bathroom, and got him tucked back in under the covers with a drink before I headed off to the market to try and achieve the impossible.

I hated being away from Jasper when he needed me, and he was in my mind every moment. Forcing myself to focus, I asked the vendors first up if they needed any help that day. No one had anything definite and so I moved to plan B. I offered to fetch and carry for the customers, helping them load their bags and then carrying them to their cars. All this extra exertion on an empty stomach wasn't the best, but I was hoping that perhaps one kind soul would tip me a few cents. They didn't, although I noticed that they bought a little more from each stand when they didn't have to carry it themselves.

My next plan was to offer to demonstrate how the Christmas wreaths would look when decorated with flowers and berries. Paul looked at me with some amusement when I suggested to him that I work for free to try and drum up some extra interest in his displays, but he didn't say no. So, for the next hour I added seasonal blooms to a couple of his plain displays and sold both for a good mark up on his regular prices. Paul laughed and said he was impressed with my ingenuity, handing me a couple of dollars as a thank you.

I wished I could help out on the food trailers, but it wasn't allowed. I knew I would most likely pick up a few coins of loose change when sweeping up, but we needed more than a few cents. I walked towards the exit to stretch my legs and to sit for a moment on the benches outside. A woman sat there with her dog, looking at her watch. I pointed to the bench, silently asking if it was okay for me to sit, and she smiled. Her dog, a large crossbreed, came over to say hello, sniffing me over and wagging its tail in welcome. With another questioning look, I asked if it was okay to respond. This time she laughed.

"Rosie loves people. She can take all the attention you want to give."

As if hearing her mistress, Rosie rolled her head against my leg, her tongue lolling out, and placed a paw on my arm. I made a huge fuss of the gorgeous creature, loving the trust she had in me to not hurt her. Her owner sighed.

"I need to go get some groceries, but having Rosie makes it difficult. I need both hands free and it's crowded in there. She's no trouble, good as gold, but my usual sitter is sick and so … here we are." She shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what to do. I thought fast.

"Can I help? I'd be happy to help you shop and carry your bags for you. I work part time at the market and I like to keep busy."

She looked at me in surprise, not expecting the offer.

"If you would do that for me, then I have a better idea. Would you sit with Rosie so I can dash in and get my groceries? She clearly likes you and she is very placid – she won't try and run off." She bit her lip, hope flaring in her eyes.

"Sure! We'll be good, won't we, girl?" I rubbed the soft ears in my hand and Rosie let out a groan of pleasure, falling back against my leg. The woman looked relieved.

"Thank you so much for this. I'll be back in a few minutes. Rosie! Stay. Be a good girl."

The tail thump-thumping against my leg seemed to answer in the affirmative.

The woman was good to her word, and less than 20 minutes later she reappeared with two bags brimming with vegetables, fish and meat. Rosie greeted her in true canine style, jumping and circling as if she had been gone for at least a week. Laughing, she set the bags down and fussed her happy dog.

"What is your name?"

"Edward, ma'am."

She held out hand and I shook it.

"I'm Esme. Well, Edward, thank you - you were a life saver today. I hope you're here again if I need someone to babysit my soppy girl here." Without preamble, she reached into her purse and pressed a bill into my hand. I tried to refuse – it had been a pleasure, and I had done so little - but she insisted. Her regular dog service evidently charged a great deal and she wanted to pay. Stunned, I looked at the ten dollar bill in my hand and thanked her many times. I patted Rosie farewell and watched them walk away. Although she couldn't have known, that day Esme saved Jasper and me.

After my hour's shift was done, I made to leave when I heard my name. It was Tony. He had saved us some fruit and vegetables and wondered why I hadn't been to see him. I swallowed hard and headed over to him, knowing I had to explain why I couldn't buy our food today. He looked at me, his face showing unexpected concern when he saw I carried no bags. Taking a deep breath, I looked him in the eye.

"I'm so sorry, Tony. Jasper's sick and so we only have the money I make here. Rent comes first." I shrugged, hoping he understood.

His face dropped, a frown creasing his brow.

"I knew things were tight – why else would you only ever buy the leftover spoils. But to not eat? He'll get much sicker with no food at all."

I started to shake. I knew we needed food if Jas was to get better and I was willing to go without to get him well, but our landlord didn't care about us being hungry when rent day came around. We needed a roof over our heads more.

"We can't be evicted. There's nowhere for us to go, but without enough money…" Everything felt futile.

"But there are places that can help, Edward. Haven't you heard of food pantries and soup kitchens? There's one not too far from here. You'll need to check, but I think it opens Tuesday mornings. You can both eat there."

Hope blossomed, a small, bright spot in a dark sea of fear.

"They'll give us food?"

He nodded, his lined face filled with concern.

"You need to eat too, in order to work." He was as if he had read my mind. Moving with quick, deft motion, he bagged some fruit and vegetables and handed them to me. "Take them and we'll say no more about it. Go home and eat before you drop. I've watched you work today, running back and forth; I bet not one of those ungrateful people paid you, did they?"

I shook my head.

"I thought as much. Take what they can get and never so much as say thank you." Letting out a piercing whistle, he attracted Mike's attention. A couple of quick gestures and a pointed finger at me constituted a conversation I didn't catch. "Go see Mike on your way out; he'll see you right. See you tomorrow."

I nodded my thanks for the food, a smile of gratitude curling my lips despite my fears. Clutching the bag, I did as instructed and walked to Mike's trailer.

"Hey. Gimme a minute and I'll have them ready for you."

"What?" I was confused.

Moments later two wrapped burgers and fries appeared in front of me. He grinned at my shock. "They're on Tony." He winked. "He has to make a living like the rest of us, but he worries about you and how little you two eat. It's not hard to see how fiercely independent you both are…"

My throat clicked and I fought tears. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I took the hot food and opened one package, taking a hearty bite of the fragrant contents. My eyes closed at the sensation. I turned to leave and caught Tony's eye. I raised my hand, holding my food, and he gave a curt nod in acknowledgement. I headed home as fast as I could, knowing how fast the food would cool.

~o.O.o~

"Jas?"

I set down the bag and went straight to his side. He opened his eyes, coughing when he tried to sit up. I helped him, propping him with the pillows.

"What happened? How did it go?"

There was no expectation in his voice, hopelessness already taking hold. I took his hands.

"I got the money, Jas. We can make rent. I got some food too. Can you try and eat a little? You need your strength to fight this flu."

He coughed again and I hurried to fetch him more cold water while I set some to boil for a hot drink. He sipped and handed me back the cup.

"Tell me what happened." He sounded winded and gruff.

"First up, eat a little of this before it goes cold. I've eaten most of mine." I unwrapped the burger and fries and laid them on a towel on his lap.

He looked confused, but picked at the beef patty and onions, eating them with his fingers. I watched him, making sure he ate as much as he could manage while it was fresh. Looking at him, I could see the questions.

"Okay. I made a little extra working for Paul, and I tried to make some tips, but that didn't work out. Anyhow, this nice lady was outside with her dog and she needed someone to sit with her so I did, and she paid me ten bucks."

"Ten bucks? You're kidding me." He ate another piece of patty. "But how… the food…? We can't afford burgers, and you didn't find them hot in the trash."

I shook my head and explained about Tony. Jas looked embarrassed and ashamed.

"I've never accepted hand outs, never. I work for my money."

"He knows that – it's why he never offered to help before. But Jas, we're desperate now. Without his kindness we would have no food tonight, and we both need to eat. Me, so I can work tomorrow, and you to get better. Please tell me you see that?"

He picked at his food some more, eating a few fries, but leaving the burger bun untouched.

"He told me something else too. There are places we can go once a week to eat, for free. No one ever told me that before. Did you know?"

He looked at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Free? How?"

"There are places that help people who have no money. I'm going to find out more and then we are going to go and have a proper meal there every week until we make enough money to be able to support ourselves without help. That means one morning a week we can go and get enough food to fill our stomachs and maybe even squirrel a little bit back for the next day. It will make our rations stretch farther." My face fell for a moment. "I really think you need to see a doctor."

Jasper winced, both in pain from his ribs and the ever-present worry of imminent eviction.

"We can't afford doctors." His dry cough caused him to grab at his chest, buckling in pain. His face was grey.

"Everyone at the market knows I'm up for any extra jobs. Plus I found us a few things."

Recalling my early morning raid, I left him to slowly eat his burger, and went to make coffee and to fetch our new supplies. Coming back to the bed, I felt an anxious pang of worry that Jasper might be mad at what I had done, but I couldn't hide it from him.

His eyes were cautious. "Found?"

My face fell.

"Don't be angry. I went back to where I found my coat. I wanted to see what they had that would help us. I was careful, I swear."

I watched him try and push himself up.

"Tell me."

In a halting voice I told him about the broken donation bin, laying the blanket, sweater, towel and socks on the bed.

"We need these things, Jas. We are the people these are collected for."

He looked defeated and coughed again, his face white.

"You're sure you weren't seen?"

"I was careful, and if I hadn't done it the first time I would've died without my coat. Please don't be mad, Jas."

He looked horrified, and I misinterpreted it as anger until he reached out for me and tried to hug me, an ugly sob escaping his chest.

"I could never be mad at you. You're so resourceful – I feel ashamed I haven't looked after you better. I wanted to keep us safe, and I've failed."

I kissed his temple, holding him in a gentle hug.

"No! No you haven't. We look after each other – that's the way it is. Getting sick can't be helped. I'll do everything I can to make next week's rent so you can stop worrying."

His fingers plucked at the blanket.

"This is good. It's thick."

"It'll also make a good pillow to prop you up."

"Yeah, it'll help. Are those socks?"

I could have laughed at his sudden enthusiasm. We had three pairs of socks between us.

"Yeah, a couple of pairs – unworn by the look of them. Guess someone didn't like the colour."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Like it matters! These will keep our feet dry - no holes!"

"So you're not mad?"

His hand took mine.

"No. I think you're a genius. Better not go again though – don't risk it."

He was right, I knew it, but I also knew that unless they fixed that bin, I would try again when the need arose.

I fussed with the blanket and made sure he was wrapped up out of the draught.

He handed me the rest of his fries and the untouched burger bun.

"Eat the fries, but keep the bun for breakfast tomorrow."

I nodded. I had eaten mine, the excitement of food had made me forget to save something for the next day, but not Jasper. He was always thinking, always planning for later. His good heart made me feel small. I ate the fries while they were still lukewarm and cleaned up for bed. Our vegetables and fruit would keep for one more day. Carrying our drinks, I climbed into bed. Before I settled down for the night I pulled on an extra pair of socks. The weather was turning bitter at night and I longed for the day when I could snuggle up to Jasper again.

~o.O.o~