Saturday, 3.28.09
"Are you sure you don't want to come out with us tonight?" Eartha asked, pointing over her shoulder to the small group of coworkers gathering near the elevator hallway. The entire group was migrating toward a bar a few blocks away, the same place they always went on Saturday night to celebrate the end of the week. It was the beginning and end of every Sunday cycle for those on their floor that were also under the age of twenty-five. The next day, half of them would be hungover and writing the rough rough draft of whatever they had to write for next Sunday. The other half would just be hungover.
"I'm sure," Rory nodded, waving her off with a smile. "I want to get a head start on next week, I've got too much to do between now and then."
"Then I'll just take a shot in your honor," Eartha nodded, patting Rory's shoulder and floating back to the prattling budgies that were the Saturday group. Rory waved them out of view before sitting back in her swivel chair and staring at her desktop monitor.
She really could have gone out, it probably would have been fun. At the very least, it would have been a celebration of her sixth printed piece. She had officially hit the halfway point of her position at the Inquirer, only six more published pieces left until she had to find another paycheck.
Instead of celebrating the landmark, she was going to be fighting to get the outline of her seventh piece before hobbling back home. The real bright side of the situation was that Jess had offered to make her dinner to celebrate, both of them agreeing that there was only so much take-out that they could afford - financially and physically. He should have been cooking at that very moment... she wondered how fast he would catch the stove on fire.
It was possible that he wouldn't actually be cooking anything. She didn't have any idea what he was planning to make, so he could have just decided safely on a salad with fancy cheese. He'd even insisted on buying the groceries for this celebratory dinner, something that Rory had taken over as a duty when it was made clear that she wasn't going to be moving out.
After a comical amount of apartment walk-throughs, there wasn't a single apartment that Rory could both afford on her own and lease month to month. At least, there wasn't an apartment that fit into those categories and wouldn't give Emily Gilmore an aneurysm. The closest she'd gotten was an apartment that had a creepy landlord that Jess liked to call 'Baby'. Apparently he'd said something about Rory's hair any time she left the room.
The search for a place to live died down after about two weeks of living with Jess and had come to a complete stop when he pointed out that there was no point in moving in to set up her stuff for a month and then take it all down the next one. She took over the food and the water and split the electricity with him, the rent staying entirely in his name in case the landlord started to have any questions. He described it as taking a vacation from some of his bills.
Plus, when they'd decided to cool it on the take-out, she'd decided to start making use of the box of cookbooks that Sookie sent her as a part of her and Jackson's New Year's cleaning initiative. Actually learning to use an oven and meat thermometer (either Luke or Sookie on the line while she did so) made her start to feel like an actual adult.
Halfway through her outline, unluckily ripping through the peak of 'Creep', her desk phone rang. Groaning quietly, Rory paused the music and picked up the receiver, sandwiching it between her shoulder and her ear so that she could continue penciling in notes on her physical copy.
"Rory Gilmore," She said in the pleasant professional tone that she was mercilessly mocked for by anyone that actually knew her.
"Wow, Ace. I'd almost believe you were a real professional with a voice like that."
The air inside of her was sucked out by a vacuum, leaving her chest concave and her collar bones jutting sharply.
"Logan," she managed, her pencil lead leaving little marks every time it bounced up off the desk.
"Is it alright that I called you here? You weren't answering your cell phone and you gave me this one. I'm not interrupting, am I?" His voice was summery and warm and sweet.
"No, you're not," Rory assured him. "I'm just getting ahead right now, nothing special. You?"
"Nothing special," he echoed, "I just wanted to tell you that I'll be in the area soon. This week, actually."
"You're coming to Pennsylvania? Why?" Rory couldn't think of a reason for Logan to come to the Philadelphia area, the Huntzbergers didn't really have a stake in the local news.
"Don't sound so pleased, now," he teased her.
"I don't mean it like that. You know I don't mean it like that. It's just been so long since..."
"Yeah, it has." The swinging axe that was the end of that sentence was hanging above them for a moment. "I'm not coming specifically to Pennsylvania. I've got a few meetings in New York and Honor wanted me to stay with her and her husband while I visit, so I could get away with extending my visit a little longer by saying that I wanted to be around family..."
There was a pause in his explanation that made her feel that she should be speaking, but she had no idea what she should be saying.
"I was wondering if I could visit you. I wouldn't want to be a burden, I could get a hotel room, we could have dinner, then fly out to New York the next day? That way I'm not in the way too long and we can actually see each other instead of just texting a few times a month."
The nervousness that radiated from his voice was familiar and painful. While she wasn't sure that it would be the right choice to go out to dinner together - really, she was pretty sure that it was not the right choice - she couldn't let the opportunity pass her. It'd been hard enough to stay away when she was in California.
"Of course," Rory finally said, looking down at the bite marks that she'd worried into the wood of her pencil. She dropped it into a desk drawer and turned her chair to stare out the window at the big toothpaste billboard nearby. For whatever reason, her entire desk cluster had agreed that it had a stupidly calming effect and she needed more calm. "Yeah. Of course you can visit. When do you think you'll be in the city?"
"Tuesday. Tuesday night, actually. How do you feel about a late dinner?"
"I feel good about a late dinner. I'll buy peanuts to hold me over until we can eat," Rory said, immediately regretting the peanut comment. She didn't even really like peanuts, she could have said granola bars.
"Peanuts are good. I'll set the reservation."
"You are pretty good at reservations."
"That I am, that I am," Logan laughed, the sound washing over her and bringing back a weird feeling of comfort. She'd always really liked his laugh, it was... citrusy? She couldn't completely explain it.
"So, Tuesday?"
"Tuesday. I'll let you get back to your work, Ace. Looking forward to reading your words tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Rory echoed.
"I get overnight shipping."
"Makes sense."
"That it does, that it does. Bye, Ace."
"Bye... Holy Christ," Rory groaned, dropping her phone and scrubbing her hands over her face.
Her week was already full, even ignoring the work she needed to do. Kwan and Steve were turning two and, as their absolute favorite aunt, Rory had to buy the best gifts. That included a small package of children's books and, according to Zack, a tent for Kwan and a baby doll for Steve. Beyond that, there was the fact that her mother was visiting her adult apartment for the first time combined with the fact that her adult apartment was Jess's apartment.
You know, the Jess that Lorelai Gilmore hasn't had a purely positive thing to say about the entire time she'd known him? That Jess. The one that broke Rory up from her first boyfriend and then left her without notice. Twice. That Jess. The one who crashed her car.
According to Jess, she'd been vacuuming a lot.
Add to all of that the fact that she was going to see Logan for the first time since they broke up.
As soon as Rory got inside she was searching for an Advil. The bottle she kept in her purse for cramps was empty and she couldn't think of a single other place that it would be. She decided that the world was working against her when the bottle she kept in the medicine cabinet was also empty.
"God dammit- Jess!" She groaned, swinging the medicine cabinet shut and turning around so that she could stomp across the hall to pound on his bedroom door. She was surprised that he didn't have the hearing to match his burgeoning his old-grouch-hood considering the volume at which he listened to his angst rock. "Jess!"
The door flew back to reveal her ruffled-looking roommate. His hair was all fluffed up, he'd definitely been napping. Her irritation with how good he looked that way was a little boost to continue being irrationally upset.
"Did you use the rest of my Advil?" She asked, shaking the empty bottle at him.
"Yeah, I did. We're going shopping tomorrow and I didn't think you'd need it for a while," he shrugged, obviously confused. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Jess. The real question is: why are you sleeping when you're supposed to be making dinner?"
"I am making dinner," Jess rolled his eyes, turning back into his bedroom and stepping over the bigger pile of laundry to get to the stereo. "I have a timer set for the chicken that still has... seven minutes and thirteen seconds until I have to check it again, alright? Now, what's your problem?"
"Who says I have a problem? You probably have a problem. I can't even see your floor, Jess!"
"I'm going through my closet right now, alright? I have considerably less closet space right now," Jess pointed out, slipping past her and walking down the hall to the living room.
"Really? You're complaining about the hall closet again?"
At that, Jess rounded on her, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. "I'm not complaining about anything, Rory! You're the one that's pissed at me! Is this really over Advil, because I can go out and get you some more. But you're going to have to check the chicken."
A moment passed.
"It's not the Advil."
"I didn't think it was the Advil. What's up, Rory?"
Rory hesitated. "My mom is coming to town."
"I know your mom is coming to town," Jess nodded, pretending that he understood the course of thought.
"And... you guys aren't friends."
Jess scoffed and turned back around, crossing the living room and walking into the kitchen. "That's not going to be a problem."
"How is that not going to be a problem? I'm living in your apartment, Jess. I'm living here and you live here and she's going to be here all weekend and I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
"You're stressed because you think your mother is going to make me uncomfortable? That's very thoughtful."
"That's not why I'm stressed," Rory rolled her eyes, dropping onto the stool in front of the kitchen island.
"Then why are you stressed?"
"Because."
Jess threw a look at her over his shoulder, "Because?"
"Work. I just have a lot to do before next Saturday and I have to start really searching for my next thing already," she shrugged, perking up in her seat to watch while he leaned down to check on their food.
"Yeah, it's a lot of stuff to do. But you've got credentials now, you're official. There's no way you won't get a job at some big paper now. You're already an official reporter."
"That I am," Rory nodded, resting her head on her folded hands. "There are a lot of reporters, oddly enough. They seem to grow on trees."
"Well, Thumbelina, whatever plant you came from, you are one of a kind. Okay? Don't get too worried about it," Jess insisted, leaning over the counter to poke the end of her nose. They stopped for a second. "That was too much, right? It was weird."
"It was weird," Rory agreed. "I wouldn't try it again."
"Yeah. I've never done that before. I'm not doing it again," Jess shook his head, his hand flying to his cellphone when the timer actually went off. "Beat it."
"Beat it? This is my celebratory dinner," Rory frowned.
"And I have to plate it!" Jess insisted, waving an oven mitt at her.
"Plate it?" Rory laughed.
"We've been watching a lot of Iron Chef, okay?"
"Alright, fine. I'll go," Rory sighed, holding her hands up and walking to the couch. "This plating had better be phenomenal, Chef Mariano."
"Don't call me Chef Mariano."
"Don't you tell me what to do," Rory called back, dropping into her corner of the couch.
Tuesday, 3.31.09
"No, I'm not hiding from anyone," Rory frowned, taking a moment out of eyeliner application to shoot a look at her phone on the bathroom counter.
"Then why are you getting ready at work?" Lane asked, clearly raising her eyebrows on the other side of the line.
"Because I don't want to waste the gas going home and back, alright? The restaurant is in the opposite direction and it would be a lot of driving for no reason. Now I can just walk there and then walk back to my car, no gas wasted. I'm being environmentally friendly," Rory insisted.
"Which shoes did you say you were wearing?"
"The dark grey heels."
"And the peach summer dress, right?"
Rory's answer, while immediate, was cautious. She knew Lane too well to not expect the other shoe to drop. "It's the best dress for the heels."
"And those are your 'fu-'... No, no. I didn't say it. No, I caught myself. You know, it's your night to do bath time, shouldn't they be in the tub by now? Alright, alright... Sorry, Rory."
"Zack is doing bath time?"
"Yeah, Tuesdays are my night off."
"I didn't know moms got nights off."
"He's really kicking ass at this whole counseling thing, Rory. He even got Kirk to make 'Tuesdays are Daddy Days' t-shirts for the kids. Only issue is that Kirk only makes batches of twenty."
"You have twenty?"
"We have thirty-five. He was doing a sale and it ended up being cheaper."
"I mean, whatever works," Rory sighed, moving on to her mascara.
"Yeah. You're getting one for your mom's birthday."
"Fantastic. I needed a shirt that made me look like Daisy Kensington."
"It's already being mailed... Anyway, the dark grey ones are your 'friend-me heels'."
"You could say that..."
The sound of the other shoe dropping ended up a mixed metaphor in Rory's head, a visual of a boot trodding on newly fallen snow somehow accompanied by the sound of loud breaking glass.
"And you don't want Jess to see you in those heels."
Rory rolled her eyes, more to convince herself than anything else. She'd had to Jason Bourne the dress and heels to her car the night before so that Jess didn't see her walking out of the house with it in the morning.
"I'm going to end up coming home in the outfit, Lane."
"You are? That's the first I've heard of it."
"Lane!"
A heavy sigh was heard from the phone, clearly meant to show exasperation.
"You know I'll support you in whatever you want, right? I always have, I always will. I just want you to remember how it felt when you went-"
"I remember."
"- to see Jess and had to walk away from him for Logan." There was silence, Rory staring at herself dead in the eye. She wanted to say something and end the conversation there, but Lane was right: she had to deal with what she was feeling at some point. She had to figure out what she was feeling at some point. The skeleton in her closet was rattling its bones at her, very much in the style of The Tell-Tale Heart.
"I know. I know the problem, Lane. But the reality is that even if there could be something to this whole Jess-thing, there is something with Logan."
"You're sure about that?" Lane asked gently, her tone the same one she used to coax the truth out of her boys. Lorelai used to use that tone with her when she would have a second hidden book under her pillow to read after her mother took the decoy book she'd been pretending to read after lights-out.
"I am. I... I can actually see us figuring it out, y'know?" Rory sighed, smoothing her dress in the mirror and turning to see it in profile. "We didn't break up because he couldn't handle a relationship or because he couldn't handle me. We broke up because I wasn't ready to move forward."
"You're ready now?"
Well, that was the question, wasn't it? She and Logan couldn't just start from square one, they knew each other too well. They loved each other too much.
If she and Logan got back together, would she want to marry him?
"I don't know yet," Rory's shoulders sagged.
"There's only one way to find out, I guess."
"We don't know what he wants, Lane. For all we know, he could be in a relationship. He could be engaged, it has been almost two years."
"Why would he come to see you if he was engaged?" Lane sounded truly skeptical, sitting comfortably on her couch at home and sipping her wine. Her life seemed so uncomplicated for the time being. Rory wished she had that.
"Why did I go and see Jess?"
There really was no good answer to that question. They both knew, Lane through second-hand experience, that was a lot of room for complications in Rory's love life.
"You can call me any time. I'll stay up as late as you need me."
"No, it's alright. You should take the battery out of your phone. It's your night off."
"I can take advantage of my husband any time. I want to be here for you."
"Thank you," Rory sighed, a small smile taking her face despite the butterflies in her belly.
"Send me a photo of the completed look. I need to know if I want that dress left to me in your will."
"My mother already has dibs."
"But her boobs are bigger than yours."
"Yeah, Luke doesn't seem to mind the cleavage."
"Gross," Lane laughed.
"I know, I know. I don't think I was meant to hear that last part," Rory said, wrinkling her nose.
"I still want a picture."
"Okay, I'll send you a picture. Have a nice Mom's Night Off."
"Have a nice dinner with your hot rich ex boyfriend."
"Love you, bye."
"Love you, bye."
The dark grey friend-me heels were not the best choice in footwear for early Spring on the East Coast. Rory nearly twisted her ankle, stepping in a sidewalk pot-hole to avoid a passing biker. Thankfully, she'd been able to catch herself on a nearby news paper box. Less thankfully, that news paper box was sticky.
She ended up at the restaurant eleven minutes early and, because she was wearing a flowy summer dress, she was forced to huddle near the entrance and take advantage of the gusts of warm air that came out when the door opened while she waited for Logan. He'd texted her that he was almost there, always liking to arrive exactly when he said he was going to arrive. He once told Rory that arriving directly on time was like being fashionably late in the business world.
Plus, it pissed his dad off.
Nonetheless, Logan was four minutes early. She didn't know if that was by design and effort or by luck with traffic lights, but she was glad to see him pull up in a shiny rental car. He didn't even really look at the valet when he handed off his keys and took a ticket, his eyes were on Rory.
His eyes looked really brown, they made Rory think of barbecue sauce. That made Rory feel like a moron.
"You know," Logan started, stepping up to her with a winning smile on his face. "I was going to meet someone here, but you look far more interesting."
"That's very rude. I'm sure if they heard you say something like that, they wouldn't be very keen on meeting you again," Rory responded, edging toward the door. The wind combined with her cliff-like set of heels made her legs numb and she was happy to escape that.
"You know, you're probably right. And I really would like her to be keen to meet me again." She'd missed the way his eyes sparkled when he was playing a game.
"For now all she's keen to do is get inside."
"Okay, Ace. Let's get inside," he winked, stepping around her to open the door and allow her in. She realized, stepping past him into the house, that she was eye-level with him in those shoes.
They bantered and teased each other while they waited in line to claim their reservation, falling into a comfortable back and forth that left her feeling like a cat that soaked up the warmth from a windowsill. There was a space that she stepped into when he put his arm around her waist, the proximity to the crook of his shoulder would bring back a completely different Rory. A Rory that didn't really know who she really was, but knew that this was the man that she wanted to be with...
Nothing they said before their entrees arrived was anything of consequence, if someone had asked her about it she would have only been able to say that it was pleasant. He smiled and made her laugh while they admired each other over the tops of shiny plates and sparkling glasses. He was the same Logan that she missed so deeply that somewhere in her mind she knew that the ache would never go away. The kind, thoughtful, intelligent man that she had wondered about forgetting for the sake of comfort... it was made very clear just by looking him in the eye that she would never forget him.
"Honor is doing well, then?" Rory asked, watching the waitress weave away through the tables.
"Great, actually. It seems like getting married lifted the fog she was wandering through, she doesn't feel like she has to appease our mother anymore. It makes life easy for me, to be the good kid for once." The wink that followed that reinforced the idea that both of them knew full well that Logan was not ever going to unseat Honor as the golden child, not with the property damage and arrests that he'd garnered in his lifetime. "I think the truth is just that my parents are happy to ignore me as long as I keep showing up at work in a nice suit. If it looks like the Huntzberger flame is being passed on it doesn't matter that I'm also on fire."
"How literary," Rory teased.
"I've been reading this column for the past few weeks, it's from this tiny little nationally distributed newspaper, and I think that it's made my brain grow to about three times its size."
"I thought your head looked a little big."
"Oh, wound me not with thine eye," Logan moaned, dramatically holding a hand over his heart. "You look good, Ace. Unfairly good."
"Unfairly good?" Rory puzzled, the comment tugging up the corner of her mouth.
Logan nodded earnestly. "I mean, you always sort of hope that you're the better-looking one after a break up, don't you? And here you are," he waved across the table, "Not even giving me a chance at the title."
A playful heat was blooming in Rory's cheeks to compliment the roll of her eyes. "You look great too, Logan."
"Tell me more," he grinned, leaning forward and resting his head in the palms of his hand. A laugh bubbled from Rory and she instead turned to her meal.
"I'm not going to overfeed what I know is an insatiable ego," she said, shooting him a faux-scolding look before leaning forward to take her first bite of food.
"So cruel," Logan said, making no attempt to hide a fay smile.
As the dinner continued it was made clear that a lot had changed for both of them while hey were away from each other. Logan was responsible now, at least on week days. He had some actual plans for the future, though it wasn't many, and it seemed like for the first time he wasn't suffering from Peter Pan syndrome. He even had new friends, professional friends that could pull him in the right direction - not that Finn and Colin were unable to stay on the straight and narrow, that just wasn't their function in Logan's life.
Once they'd done a run-through of Logan's life events, passing over the topics of family and work and new friends rather quickly, the conversation turned to Rory. He wanted to know everything, having follow up questions after every follow up question. It was like he was picking up a sequel to his favorite book and devouring the pages as fast he possibly could. Logan had a way of seeming interested in every little thing about her, every day in the life story was part and parcel. His animated expressions and sunbeam smile made the background of a packed restaurant fade to black, the nouveau pendant lamp over their table shining like a spotlight. Logan made her feel like she was the only person in that room.
Once they'd finished their meal and then their desserts, Logan insisted on paying with his company card, the one he was issued for any and all travel expenses. He joked that he could excuse the expensive venue as 'talent scouting' in his write up, especially considering Rory's talent. She snorted.
There was a melancholy hanging over them when it finally came time to leave the restaurant, knowing full well that neither of them wanted the night to end just yet.
"Do you want to walk with me? My hotel isn't really that far away; we could have a drink at the bar," Logan suggested, standing and pushing his chair in.
Rory opened her mouth to accept before looking at her long tan peacoat. It was barely thick enough to keep her warm on her walk to her car, she couldn't imagine the walk if she had to go in the exact opposite direction to get to his hotel.
Logan seemed to read her mind. "You can have my jacket," He offered, holding his charcoal trench coat up, "I've got my suit jacket."
A hesitation later, Rory accepted. "I'll walk you back, but I can't drink. I've got to drive home."
Gleefully, Logan helped her shrug into the long coat, folding hers over his arm and escorting her out. It was then that Rory realized that he'd come in a car, and a nice one at that. It wasn't as if he'd forgotten that himself, so she let it go. She wanted to walk with him just as badly as he wanted to walk with her, there was no need to point it out just like there was no need to mention the arm he had around her waist. She wanted him there.
The pace of their march to the hotel could be blamed on her precarious heels, but she didn't attempt to excuse it. She wanted not to waste the time she could be using to appreciate the time she was sharing with someone she tried so hard not to miss.
Not wanting to say goodbye was a lot more troublesome than she'd thought it would be. She was sure they would say goodbye at the door of the hotel until they got there, then again in the lobby and again at the elevators. She was still leaning into his arm while they were walking down the long hallway to his room, as though that would delay the inevitable parting of ways.
Finally stood in front of his door, number 928, Rory was faced with her decision, and it was her decision. If she followed him inside, she wouldn't be going home. It would be an admission that she hadn't put her feelings to bed yet, that something was holding on.
"So," Logan said softly, releasing Rory from his grasp and turning so that he could face her. His slow movements read as though he was trying not to spook her off. "Do you want to come in?"
For a split second, looking at Logan's brilliant face, she saw the future they had between them. They could figure it out, she knew they could. There was a path where she finished her time at the Inquirer and left to California, using her credentials and padded resume to find a job at a paper that he didn't have influence over. She could spend her days writing on the beaches she'd walked last year, she could make her way up the West Coast ladder just as easily if not more so. Then, she could come home to a nice house and a very nice man with copper colored eyes.
"I can't," Rory breathed, the sound surprising her. It was like someone else spoke for her, she couldn't remember settling on an answer.
"Okay," Logan nodded, not focusing on the rejection and instead digging in his pocket for his room key. "That's okay. I'll probably just go to sleep anyway. I think my key is in my jacket, though."
"Sorry," Rory said, quickly unbuttoning the jacket so that she could hand it over.
"No, you keep it for now. You've still got to go outside. I'm not leaving until tomorrow, maybe we could have lunch? I could get it back then," Logan suggested, taking the key from Rory once she'd fished it out of his jacket.
"Yeah, of course," she agreed, taking her jacket from him in return. "I'll text you."
"Good," Logan replied, turning to open his door and step in to keep the door from shutting. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Ace."
"You will."
The door shut between them and Rory was left standing there, her heartbeat shaking her hands. Without giving herself a moment to regret her choices, she turned and quickly walked through the halls so that she could escape into the cold air. It felt as though she had a bungee cord around her waist, every step pulling it tighter and making harder to take another.
By the time she did get to her car, Rory slid inside and tore off her heels to throw them into the backseat. While she sat there and waited for the heat to kick in, Rory turned up the collar of Logan's jacket and buried her nose into the wool. After a bit, she wiped her eyes and drove away barefooted.
She very consciously wanted that moment in the hallway to be the satisfying end to a chapter of her life that was already running too long. The issue was that, in life, chapters were hardly clearly defined. Even when she was pulling into her spot outside of Jess's apartment, when she was gathering her things from the backseat and shoving her feet back into her heels, she still felt the tension of the bungee cord. There was a connection between herself and Logan's hotel door that wove through the city and didn't mind the traffic or buildings.
Before she headed inside, she laid Logan's jacket over the backseat and slipped into her own. She tiredly trekked through the building until she was at the apartment door. Once inside, she didn't stop to take off her heels again until she was behind her closed bedroom doors. Jess was sat on the couch and she didn't want him to ask any questions about the night, it had been exhausting enough on its own.
When she did re-emerge, she'd wiped off her make up and put her hair up into a messy ponytail, wearing big plaid pajama pants and a thick sweater and her blue alpaca slippers. She shuffled to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea before going to the couch and kicking Jess's feet off of her side long enough to sit down and cover herself with a blanket.
They watched a good ten minutes of Bruce Almighty in silence before Jess spoke up.
"How was your date?"
Rory didn't look away from the television, she didn't want to know if he was looking at her.
"It was hard."
He let out a little 'hm', adjusting his feet where they rested in her lap. "Sorry."
"It'll be alright," she murmured, relaxing into the cushions behind her.
Author's Note: This story is pro-Logan. He's a good guy, just not right for Rory. I adore him, really. Tell me what you guys think about his characterization/inclusion! I love to read the comments and I reply to every single one! :)
-Asleep