Welcome back! Enjoy.

The building in which Armin and Mikasa lived was built similarly to a school dormitory. Each tenant had a private room and shared amenities on the main floor below. There were several floors, thanks to the influx of homeless persons after the rumbling. Eren had huffed and puffed up several flights of stairs, fervently praying that nobody walked around a corner or came down the flight. That would make for a very interesting night if anybody recognized him…

Armin and Mikasa lived on the very top floor. Their rooms were the only ones up there, thanks to the steeply vaulted ceilings. When Mikasa wasn't avoiding her own room like the bubonic plague, she often found herself hanging out with Armin instead, taking comfort in the homey way he had decorated his room. She occasionally teased him about being a proper housewife, to which he would blush and stutter - especially if Annie happened to be within earshot. His company was the only thing that ever made her feel somewhat normal, which was something she could never thank him enough for. She knew how hard he tried. It was him who had gotten these dorms so close together, and she was aware that he was always watching out for her, concerned for her well-being.

"The one on the right," Mikasa whispered as they entered the hallway. Eren nodded, ignoring the eruption of goosebumps that occurred when Mikasa's breath brushed his ear.

He was grateful to make it to Mikasa's room, but reached for her doorknob with severe caution. He was aware of every creak and click he heard, and he was terrified that Armin would magically know he was there and come bursting through the opposite door at any moment. He could hear muffled voices from beneath his door.

Gritting his teeth, Eren twisted the corroded brass knob tenderly, breath stagnant in his chest. He felt Mikasa tighten her grip around his neck, perhaps in encouragement, perhaps in anxious anticipation of sudden noises. Maybe she was just projecting his own fear.

He wanted to exhale loudly in relief when the door opened without a creak, but he held it, creeping through the wooden frame with maximal vigilance. Closing it again with the same level of caution, he finally released the pressure building in his lungs, doubling over slightly. He felt Mikasa's breath flutter through his hair when she did the same.

"Ready?" he asked her, loosening his grip on her legs slightly. When he felt her nod, he reluctantly released her. She slid to the ground, shoes tapping softly against the hardwood.

"Thank you."

"Sure," Eren breathed, keeping his voice low. It tended to carry when he wasn't paying attention, and Armin had ears like a bat.

Awkward silence followed. Eren wasn't sure where, exactly, he should be. Mikasa's room was not necessarily large, and very plain. A single painting of a bluebell adorned the wall above her bed, but it was the only spot of color he could see. Shuffling around a bit, he shoved his hands in his pockets, decidedly watching her as she shrugged his jacket from her shoulders. Folding it absentmindedly, she dropped it on a rocking chair in the corner of her room, which creaked and swayed reluctantly. He saw goosebumps bristle up her neck at the loss of the jacket's warmth.

"You can use that whenever you'd like," he mused, motioning towards it stiffly.

Mikasa smiled at him. It was genuine and beautiful. "Thanks, Eren."

Trying to ignore the burst of frantic butterflies rattling around his stomach, he attempted to appear aloof and chose a particularly interesting grain of wood on the floor to examine. Leaning against the wall, he abandoned the wood rather quickly and watched Mikasa walk to her armoire in his peripheral vision instead. The doors opened with a faint squeak, and Eren took the chance to look at her again when her face hid behind the cabinet. He just couldn't be satiated, and the desire to fulfill that hunger seemed to manifest tenfold in such tight quarters.

It wasn't the first time he had ever been in Mikasa's room. When they were kids, they used to invade each other's space all the time once she was used to them. It was innocent and playful. Mikasa would walk into his room to perch on his bed, watching him as he read books or played with his toys. He would explain the mechanics of them, offer her a chance to try, and teach her about his favorite figurines.

She didn't talk much when they first took her in. Eren never pressed her, though. His father had said something about trauma, and about how it would take a while for her to be more open. That was understandable for Eren. She had watched bad men kill her parents. Anyone would be messed up after seeing something like that.

He would occasionally ask her questions, or show her a toy that he thought she would find interesting. He didn't mind if she had no response. He could see it in her eyes - she was absorbing every word. Over time, he grew to live for the way she looked at him.

The first time he gained a bit of her trust stuck out poignantly in his memories. He had gone outside that morning to help with the laundry, only to find that the bellflowers were blooming, their jolly petals dancing in the breeze. They had pushed up between the cobblestones of the Jaeger's balcony. Carla was there, busy picking a few out of the bunches, laundry discarded in a corner.

"Eren!" she called, waving. "Come over here!"

He ran across the balcony, grinning. "Mom! They're awesome!"

Carla smiled down at him, touching his face affectionately. Her eyes made it obvious how dearly she adored him. "How's Mikasa?" she asked, handing him a couple of small flowers.

"I don't know," he replied, shrugging indifferently. "She doesn't really come out of her room. And when she does, she just kind of watches me… I don't ever really know what to say."

He couldn't quite make out the expression on his mom's face at that moment, but it was gone before he had a chance to decipher it, replaced by her kind smile and warm eyes. "Take those flowers to her," she urged, nudging him along. "I bet they'll help her talk a bit more."

"Mom," Eren complained, blushing, "she's a girl! That's weird!"

Carla chuckled. "Listen to your mother, Eren. Just do it."

His ears burned. "Fine."

Carla gave him a quick squeeze, told him he was a good boy, and pushed him back towards the door.

That's how he found himself outside of Mikasa's room, palms a bit clammy, hyper aware of how little he actually knew about girls and the inner workings of their brains. Scowling, he knocked quietly, flowers clenched in his fist.

After a brief moment, the door clicked, and there she stood. So small. So fragile. It suddenly felt as if tiny insects were wriggling up his the strange feeling in his limbs, Eren averted his gaze. "The bellflowers are blooming," he muttered, shifting from foot to foot. "Thought you might like to see 'em." He held the delicate floret out to her, wondering if she could see the redness of his ears.

She stared at him, dumbstruck. Blinking several times, she stepped forward shyly, which caused Eren's head to spin. He withstood the urge to take a step back. Her small fingers brushed his knuckles delicately when she took the flowers.

Eren snatched his hand to the safety of his back, completely unsure of what to say. The nervous tingling was driving him mad, and he finally couldn't handle it any more. "Seeya," he choked out, whirling to escape her presence. However, he felt something snag his jacket, and he halted to see what had him.

Mikasa's petite hand had a ridiculously strong grip on the hem. Eren could see the tendons in her wrist, flexed from her hold. Sweat broke out on his brow, and he had no idea what to do.

"U-um…" he stammered, scratching his head nervously. "Was there something else?"

Mikasa stared him down, unwavering. He could have sworn that he saw tears glistening at the brim of her eyelids, but he was far too skittish to confirm it. Looking at her eyes was just as doable as staring at the sun.

"Thank you," she finally breathed, the faintest wisp of a smile gracing her lips.

He had been chasing that smile ever since.

Eren smiled fondly at the memory. Every detail of Mikasa's eyes stood out in startling definition when he thought back on that day, which was strange to him, given that he couldn't even make simple eye contact back then.

They hadn't changed much over the years - other than being adulterated by chronic stress and exhaustion from war. Instead of lifting that burden, he had made it so much heavier in the end. It was a fact that was hard for him to stomach.

Mikasa shut the armoire doors, blankets in hand. Eren watched, mesmerized by her, everything about her. The way her fingers tucked her hair behind her ear. The way she lightly bit her lip when focused. The way her hands moved, fluid and adept at every task placed before them.

His eyes were wandering far too much at this point, but it was hard to stop.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Mikasa murmured, breaking his less than virtuous appraisal of her body.

"Absolutely not," he countered, pushing off from the wall forcefully. "Like hell I'd let you sleep on the floor."

Mikasa was immovable, not showing the slightest glint of backing down. "You're my guest."

Eren scoffed. "Yeah, and you're my…"

He halted that thought, the familiar feeling of burning ears making itself known. What the hell did he think he was about to say?

Idiot. She's nothing to you. Get it through your thick head. It was Carla spewing the poison this time, pushing her way through the folds of his brain. She had a body, but… it was disfigured, covered in shredded flesh from Dina's teeth. Blood seeped from wherever her rotted hands made contact. Black fluid flowed from her teeth. The tightness in his chest began to spread. The room began to close in.

Shaking his head, he shoved the panic back down. He snatched the pillow from Mikasa's arms and threw himself to the ground, pulling the plush blanket to his chin before she could utter another word. "My spot," he chipped, voice snarky, hiding the inevitable mental break. She was still struggling to catch up, blindsided by his halved sentence, so he had the upper hand. "Just let me sleep here."

Mikasa didn't fight him. She stood above him, lost in thought, observing him carefully. She seemed frightened. It bothered him.

Tucking an arm behind his head, Eren frowned. "What's up?" he asked.

She averted her gaze, holding her arms tight to her chest. A sigh parted her lips. Tentatively, she knelt down beside him, taking his free hand softly in hers. "... Will you still be here in the morning?"

The simple question had Eren instantly pushing himself up on his elbow. The expression of grief and fear on her face was enough to stab him through the heart. Squeezing her hand firmly, he then pulled away and tucked the loose end of her scarf over her shoulder. "I'll be here. That's a promise."

The storm hovering over Mikasa seemed to calm, if only slightly, and Eren was overwhelmed yet again by how incredibly pretty and alluring she was. Everything about her seemed to draw him in, leaving him stranded and absolutely gasping for air. She was his own personal siren.

"Mika," he murmured, unable to hold the nickname back. His hand hovered inches away from her face.

He could see the pulse throbbing in her throat. "What?" she replied.

He stared at her lips, lost himself in the elegant curves that he so strongly yearned to take as his own. He had looked at them many times, but never this close. Never in an environment so rawly charged as this one. He had never wanted to kiss her more than at this moment, and time seemed to freeze around them.

You're beautiful, Mika.

It's what he wanted to say, sweeping her off her feet in the process. But the doubt chained him down, and he knew they weren't ready. Biting his tongue, he held the words back and withdrew his hand. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

The disappointment on her face hurt. He felt it, too. It wasn't fair. He doubted anyone on this entire planet would ever go through what they had been through. Anger and frustration began to boil in his stomach. At that moment, he hated this world more than anything. It was a despicable place, one where the enormous wedge of the rumbling had forced them apart, stealing away the life they could have led, tainting their relationship with unsaid words and the filth of insecurity and emotional desecration.

In another life, he had held her. Kissed her with no restraint. Loved her with everything that he had. Built a home and a life with her. They had slept under the stars together, arms entwined, gazing at the constellations and musing about what to make for dinner. They had lived as one.

But… here, they were broken.

The sickeningly tight feeling began to worm its way into Eren's chest again, leaving tunnels of hollow anguish. Instability pounded away at the weakened foundation, and he felt himself begin to sink into another terrorizing flood of panic and immersive despair. He knew the gruesome flashbacks would start soon. He wondered which dead person would head the horde this time.

He didn't want that. He didn't want to be tormented by the hallucinations. He wanted an anchor, a way out of the tightening vice that squeezed the breath from his lungs. He wanted security, a safety that was only provided by the presence of the woman beside him. He wanted - needed to have her closer, or he was sure he would return to the hellfire he had so narrowly escaped, dragged to the depths by the corpses in his mind.

"Eren?" Mikasa touched his shoulder, concerned, and something snapped.

That was the trigger that flipped the invisible switch. Everything overflowed. Tossing his restraint to the wind, Eren grabbed her arm and pulled - hard - catching her just in time to draw her into an emotionally fevered kiss.

The walls of the dam that Eren had purposefully constructed between them over the past few years fulminated the second their lips made contact. The pent up pain, longing, frustration, and regret burst forth aggressively, releasing itself in the form of provocative want. He could not contain himself.

Mikasa, though taken aback, responded in a like manner. She hooked an arm beneath his shoulder, lissome fingers twining deftly through the loose hair at the base of his neck. Her other hand caressed his face. She moved her mouth against his in fervid need, trying so desperately to recompense for the years of lost time that haunted them. It wasn't long before she was completely enveloped in him, surrounded completely by his smell, his breath, his sounds. The way his muscles worked beneath her hands mesmerized her. The taste of his lips was intoxicating. The flavor was reminiscent of his smell - so Eren. She could feel his hands on her back, wide, immersive, strong. They worked their way up to her shoulders, finding their way into her hair, on her face. His thumb traced her chin, encouraging the movement of her jaw. Emotions completely foreign to her were pulsing in her veins, causing a catastrophic overload of signals bouncing back and forth across her body. She wanted to be everywhere at once.

Eren didn't really know what he was doing, thanks to his lack of experience, but he couldn't give less of a didn't kiss so much as devour her whole, palms pressed against her shoulders, pulling her impossibly closer to feel every inch of her beautiful self against him, warding away the grim panic clawing at the fleshy walls of his heart. Feeling a surge of animalistic want, he pulled down on Mikasa's chin with his thumb, forcing a small gasp from her throat. In the split second that they separated, his eyes hungrily roamed her face, crazed by the flush in her cheeks and the ardor glazing her features. It was undisputable - this was the most beautiful expression he had ever seen on her face. He dove forward, loathe to waste even that half second, consuming her again, boldly lacing her parted lips with the tip of his tongue.

Mikasa pulled back a bit, surprised by his forwardness. She didn't get far before he was tugging her right back, utterly inebriating her with smaller, less invasive kisses. But she felt herself craving the feeling of his tongue again, and she gently encouraged him, shyly opening her mouth a hair wider. He needed no other motivation and grabbed the back of her head, pulling her mouth impossibly closer to his and pulling her hair tight in his fist. He traced a finger down her spine with his other hand, relishing in the shudder it elicited.

His tongue surged forward, tracing hers roughly, almost losing it completely when Mikasa suddenly responded in a like manner, her tongue intrepidly finding a way into his mouth. It was easy to forget that she was just as strong as he was, and it drove him all the more crazy with desire.

Running completely on instinct at this point, he grabbed her waist and pulled her hips against him, feeling absolutely feral. Their kisses had taken a darker turn, and he wanted her to know exactly just how badly he wanted this, wanted her. But, he was suddenly hyper aware of the thick blanket that was still between them.

"Fuck," he hissed, supremely annoyed at the small inconvenience, but continued to kiss her relentlessly. Without missing a beat, he snaked his arms around her thighs, biting her bottom lip to keep her from pulling away. Grunting, he lifted her off of the blanket, sitting up simultaneously. Pulling on her ankles, he motioned for her to wrap her legs around him. She obliged quickly, and he stood, arms wrapped tightly around her. They continued the exploration of each other's mouths. Mikasa had a death grip on Eren's neck, nails digging into his throat.

Breaking the kiss for an instant, he turned her face with and bit into the tender flesh of her earlobe. He didn't know why he did it, but he was awarded with the most alluring, tempting sound he had ever heard - a small whimper, drawn from the depths of Mikasa's lungs in response to the stimulation provided by his bite.

Holy shit.

A wicked grin spread quickly on his face, tongue tracing his teeth. Whirling carefully, he backed her against a wall, hands sliding dangerously close to her backside. "Mikasa," he murmured, practically gasping for breath, "is this okay?"

She avoided his eyes, overcome with embarrassment. He was seeing her in such a vulnerable state, panting and desperate for air, covered in traces of him… But she could not deny that she wanted this. Bad. She had for a long, long while - but she would never admit that to him. She nodded softly, a small whine humming in her throat.

Eren was bewitched by her lips, swollen and pink. The way they parted, the way she panted for air…

"Shit, Mikasa," he whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to her throat, "you are fucking perfection." Losing his last bit of restraint, he pulled her against him, blanket omitted, ramming himself against her to wordlessly emphasize what, exactly, she was doing to him. His kiss turned to a bite on her throat, drawing a suppressed yelp of surprise. He quickly licked at the bite, drawing a string of kisses across her jawline and meeting her lips once more, grinding against her a second time because it felt fucking amazing. By the way she rocked against it and gasped into his mouth, he wagered that she felt the same.

"Mikasa," he murmured against her lips, thumbs rubbing circles against her skirt, "I know it's probably not something you want to hear right now, but -"

He stopped when they heard a sudden knock from the door. Every muscle in his body froze, and he was in combat mode before he could blink. The thick sexual tension in the air dissipated at once. His hand rose to his mouth, prepared to bite it. Swinging Mikasa behind him with his other arm, he crouched in front of her - though she would most likely be the protector in a truly serious case. With the protective anchor of Mikasa's comfort gone, panic rang in his ears, screaming for him to take the offensive before anyone could take advantage of him. His eyes flicked back and forth across the room, searching for possible weapons or items of defense.

"Eren," Mikasa barely whispered, grabbing his shoulder. She was alarmed by the sudden switch in him. Wheeling him around, she seized his face roughly and forced him to look at her. "You're okay. It's just us. It's not an enemy. There's no one bad at the door. It's probably Armin."

Eren blinked at her, trying to process the words through the muddled mess of hysteria going on in his intellect. His heart was still racing from the kiss, his pants uncomfortably tight, but trepidation wove its way into the blissful feelings, confusing him.

She pressed a finger to her lips, motioning for him to be quiet. Her fingers stroked his cheek gently. Holding eye contact, she pointed to her bed, nodding to the gap beneath it. "Go."

Eren nodded curtly, deciding to listen to her rather than fight through the chaos in his body. Mikasa watched him disappear beneath the wooden frame. Feeling more alert than she had in weeks, she silently straightened her appearance in the mirror, taking care to cover the red mark left on her neck with her scarf. Glimpsing quickly throughout the room, she made sure to toss the extra bedding on her chair before finally approaching the door just as the knock came again.

Inhaling deeply to settle her galloping heart, she assumed her normal stoic expression and opened the door.

Annie stood in the doorway, fidgeting with her hands behind her back. Once the door opened, she cleared her throat awkwardly. "Hey."

Mikasa cocked her head. She could see Annie silently assessing her appearance. "Hey, yourself." Truly confused, she folded her arms. "Annie, what are you doing here at this time of night?"

Annie sighed audibly. "Armin mentioned that you probably weren't feeling well, so I came to bring you this." She held up a small paper bag. "It's a sleeping tonic that my father used to give me when I struggled with insomnia."

Mikasa was stunned by the genuine act. Her and Annie had never exactly been close, given their history. Narrowing her eyes, she pursed her lips. "Are you using me to get in Armin's good graces? Not that you need the extra boost."

Annie smirked. "I'm going to take that as a thank you." Squatting down, she placed the bag just inside the door. "Don't take too much of it. It's strong as hell." Standing back up, she dusted her hands off of her pants as if she had gone through great lengths to drop the bag on the floor. Eyeing Mikasa, she said, "I know you and I are on interesting terms. I get it. But… if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm a pretty good listener."

"Even when you're not in your crystal cocoon?" Mikasa pried.

Annie glared at her. "I'm not sure if that's humor or not, but I'm going to assume that it is." Yawning, she stretched her arms over her head. "Anyways… I'm not that great at conversation. Just listening. I'll be at Armin's for a little bit if you need me, okay?"

Mikasa almost smiled. "Thanks," she murmured, plucking the bag off the floor.

"Not too much," Annie warned again, pointing a stern finger at the tonic. "It'll knock you on your ass." Yawning again, she waved over her shoulder, and Mikasa shut the door.

It was interesting to see how much Armin had pulled Annie from her shell. He was good at that.

Rustling through the shredded paper, Mikasa pulled a small vial from their strands, quickly turning it over in her fingers to study the small print.

"Sleeping tonic?"

Mikasa flinched, a spasm of adrenaline almost causing her to drop the bottle. She had not expected Eren's voice to be so close.

"So you're really not sleeping at all, are you?" Eren took the bottle softly, eyes hard. "I used to take this when I was alone in Marley on the nights that it was hard to sleep. It does its job well." He pointedly left out his unhealthy alcohol consumption, which had often gone hand in hand with the tonic. There had been many, many of those nights.

Sighing, he pressed a finger to his temple, striding to place the bottle on her bedside table. "Hey, Mikasa, I'm sorry. That was way too much. I was being too pushy. I didn't even ask if you wanted to kiss me at first. I was using you as an escape from the panic I was starting to feel, and that's unacceptable of me. I didn't even take your physical state into consideration. I was selfish."

Mikasa sat on the edge of the bed, noticing how difficult it was to keep her heart rate under control still. Her chest ached, and there was an intense feeling of pressure in her stomach and lower abdomen. Part of her wanted to resume the worship he had been providing. However, talking to Annie had managed to cool her down quite a bit, and she could see level once again. "I'm also to blame," she responded, sitting up straight. "I didn't stop you. I encouraged you, and that was even after my lecture earlier about healing and self-improvement… That being said, it happened. We can't change that."

Eren looked crestfallen.

"But I don't regret it."

His eyes widened instantly. "You don't?"

"Not a second of it," she responded, smiling at his enthusiasm. "But I still stand by what I said earlier… We need to build on a healthy foundation. Can we agree on that?"

Eren ran his fingers through his hair, tucking the stragglers into his bun. "Yeah," he replied, going against every instinct his body was running off of. "Yeah. I promise I won't do that again… Not until you're ready."

"Thank you," Mikasa whispered, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. Now that her burning desire had finally calmed, she could feel an intense headache coming on. "There's still a lot we need to discuss," she mumbled. "Like how you got here, who can see you… That kind of stuff."

Eren felt as if an icy fist suddenly took hold of his heart. The remaining traces of desire and excitement disappeared, leaving him deflated and vulnerable. Panic peaked through thoughts, waiting for the opportune moment. That was exactly the kind of stuff he wanted to avoid talking about, at least for now. Sitting next to her on the bed, he leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. "I'll tell you everything," he swore, voice sullen, "but again… not tonight. Let's get you some of that tonic so that you can sleep."

He tried to ignore the desire to kiss her again when she dropped her head to his shoulder, nodding against the firm muscles in his arm.

"Lay down," he instructed, gently pushing her off of him. "I'll get it for you."

She did so obediently, nestling into her pillow.

Eren nodded, satisfied. Grabbing the tonic, he unscrewed the dropper top from the bottle. The motion was so disgustingly familiar that he could almost taste the cheap Marley booze on his tongue. Hiding his disdain, he reached for Mikasa's mouth. "Five drops," he urged, placing the dropper at her lips. "And just a warning: It tastes like shit."

Mikasa glowered at him. He nodded towards the dropper, eyebrows raised. She reluctantly opened her mouth, eyes screwed shut. He droppered it in quickly, fully expecting her to sputter and gag on the foul syrup, which is exactly what he had done when he first tasted it. However, she didn't even flinch.

"That Ackerman blood definitely runs in your veins," he joked, impressed. "Want some water?"

"That's okay."

Nodding, Eren stood. It felt good to be the one taking care of Mikasa… it always seemed like their roles were reversed throughout life. She was always the one dragging him out of fights, making sure he ate enough, and watching his back in battle. Even though he put on the facade of annoyance, he had always secretly appreciated her care. Or had it really been a secret? She had a way of knowing exactly how he felt.

"Let's get you covered up," he murmured, picking up her blanket.

"I need to get changed first," Mikasa interrupted, sitting up.

"Right, right… Uh…" Eren shifted nervously.

Mikasa blushed. "Just look away, all right? Don't watch."

"All right." He turned away from her, relieved for a reason to hide his damn burning ears. Stupid things. They were his worst downfall, always making him an open book.

He heard her scoot off the bed. Not long after, the incredible sound of fabric sliding off her skin whispered in the silence. He could almost imagine the clothes bundling at her feet, see her stepping out of them with that marvelous elegance that she constantly emitted with no effort.

You don't deserve to even imagine that. After what you've done? Your spot in hell is already reserved, friend. Stop dreaming. The blackened teeth of decapitated Erwin sneered at him from beneath his eyelids, precariously perched in the arms of a mangled Ramzi.

Eren frowned, brows knitting tightly together. The stupid voices… Those awful decapitated heads… They were becoming regular tenants in his mind.

"You guys can fuck off," he muttered, "I already know that."

"What?" Mikasa asked, fingertips brushing his back.

"Nothing," he retorted, rubbing his eyes. "You done?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Lay down, I'll put your blanket on you."

Eren tried his best not to observe the nightgown Mikasa adorned. Preoccupying himself with the covers, he tucked them around her, grateful when her body was finally concealed and protected from his gaze.

"What about you?" Mikasa asked. "Are you going to sleep?"

"Of course." Smiling down at her, he walked to the chair and picked up his hastily discarded bedding, tossing it on the floor next to her again. Noticing how she fought her heavy eyelids, he sat down at her bedside. "Sleep," he urged. "I'm not going anywhere, all right?"

"This stuff is making me feel a little strange," she replied, eyes slightly dilated. "I feel kind of like I'm drowning under a heavy blanket."

"That means it's working. Sleep."

"See you tomorrow…" Mikasa whispered, nodding softly.

"See you tomorrow."

Listen... There is so much more that's gonna happen. That's all I gotta say.

Thank you so much for reading and your support! Have a fantastic week!