As always I have to thank everyone reading, responding, kudoing, favoriting, liking, and following. This chapter focuses a little more on what happened with Liam and Elsa. It is a step back, but not the end of the road by any means. I hope you enjoy.
Liam entered the hotel room that he had shared with Elsa with his heart in his throat, his large hands shaking as he saw the darkened room and realized that she might not even be there. There had been that fear when Emma had come down on him so harshly at the club, telling him that he was most assuredly at fault for scaring her off. It wasn't like he had argued.
He wasn't sure why he didn't turn on one of the lights, perhaps hoping that the lack of light would continue to bathe the situation in a murky vagueness that would not leave all the blame at his feet. He toed off his shoes and stared at the outline of the bed where just the night before he had held the most beautiful woman in his arms. That's when he noticed her form there, curled on her side and facing the wall rather than him.
"Elsa?"
"The hotel's booked solid," she said, her voice a bit ragged either from singing or crying or both. "And Anna and Kristoff are practically treating this like a honeymoon."
"Aye," he said, feeling too uneasy to even take another step forward. "I could call my brother. Perhaps I could stay with…"
"I don't want to disturb Emma. It's bad enough that she has to deal with a total head case like me. There's no need worrying her when she's got her son there with her and dealing with Killian." There was an audible sniffle. "You didn't even say anything."
"Ashamed I suppose. What should I have said, Elsa? I took the easy way out. I ripped him off. I ripped you off. I'm a bloody fool and a fraud." He raked his hand over his face and waited for confirmation of his assessment. The silence was worse than any berating she might lash out at him.
"Did you know that I wrote my first song when I was 15," she said, her voice coming out clearer. He realized that she had shifted on the bed in his direction. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a sign she was about to do her worst. "I wasn't even sure what I was doing. I wasn't sure if it was going to be any good."
"I'm sure it was…"
"You don't know," Elsa interrupted. "My parents thought it was just a hobby, told me to concentrate on other things. Things that would pay better. Things that would make them proud. So I put it aside until I heard about this contest. It was a silly little thing, but they wanted song writers to submit music and the prize was $1,000 and you'd hear your song on the radio."
He knew of those contests, having taken part in a few with his brother before. Killian always had a knack for getting the attention of the judges. They had done pretty well on that circuit, even while they were in the Navy. Then came Milah. She pushed Killian, challenged him, brought out the best in him even when his brother fought back. He'd thought it was a great thing, seeing his brother reaching new heights because Milah believed in him and wanted him to succeed. But then he'd seen the toll it took on his younger brother, the way his brother became increasingly sure that Milah only saw his potential and not his worth. She made him believe that he wasn't good enough as he was.
Shaking free of the thoughts, he heard Elsa continuing.
"I was too young to enter so I trusted someone to submit it for me. We were going to share the money and my name would be on the song too. But she cheated me out of that. The song won, even got sold to some Swedish singer who loved it. I never saw a dime and my name is nowhere on it."
He wanted to hold her, tell her that wasn't his intention at all. "Elsa, I never meant to steal anything…"
"That's why you wouldn't play it for me privately, isn't it? You didn't want me to know that you used some of the music I wrote and lyrics your brother had penned. Did you? You wanted everyone to think that was your work. Did you do anything on it? Anything other than steal?" She was sitting up, the room still dark except a light outside the window. She couldn't see the way his head hung or the tears starting to form.
"Elsa, I…I tried. I couldn't come up with anything. We were using that music as a placeholder, until I could work something out. I ran out of time. I ran out of inspiration."
***AAA***
Emma did not look much better than Liam did when she entered the suite where Killian and Henry were currently located. The brief and troubling explanation from Liam had left her with more questions and answers. While Elsa had eventually answered a desperate text with assurances she was fine, Emma felt horrible that she had not somehow sensed the problem and fixed it.
"Welcome back, love," Killian said from the small sitting area where he and Henry had parked themselves. The suite was essentially two bedrooms and baths with a center room that contained a sectional sofa, a television and a kitchenette that left something to be desired. They had been thankful for the extra room, but it was hardly what either imagined it would be when they heard the term.
Henry was asleep on one end of the sectional, one arm and leg thrown over the back of it and his head tilted backward as if he had somehow landed in such a position. That made even more sense when Emma noted the contents of the television program.
"That is not Harry Potter," she said, taking a spot near the corner of the l-shaped piece of furniture. Killian immediately threw his arm around her and dragged her toward him so that her head rested on his shoulder. "Is that a chicken?"
"Mexican wrestling," Killian said, smiling that his own accent did not bring any class or beauty to the term. "Your son is quite adept at picking the winners."
She let her eyes scan the room to find empty soda cans, foam containers from their dinner, a deck of playing cards and a small stack of oreos left over from their winnings, and two empty containers of chips from the vending machines. Both males were in their stocking feet, hair rumpled, and traces of nacho cheese powder on their faces. "Looks like I missed quite a party," Emma commented, closing her eyes for a moment as his grip tightened around her. "Any strippers or gambling debts I need to know about?"
Drawing in a breath as though he was about to make a large confession, Killian let it out in a large whoosh. "I did hire a stripper, but I think the idea scared Henry so we passed."
Smirking, Emma shook her head. "Glad to hear one of you had some sense. And the gambling?"
"Good thing we were just playing for cookies. The kid wiped me out." Leaning his cheek on the top of her head, he moaned and stretched out his legs. "How did the performances go? I hope all the nerves got worked out."
"Can we talk about that later?" Emma asked softly. "I know you're curious, but I'm really just wanting to rest right now and unwind. Seriously? Is that really a man dressed as a chicken?"
They watched the fight, if one could call it that, for a few more minutes, as her head became heavy and she slid to his chest where she placed a kiss over his heart. She was quite appreciative that he had not only turned his weekend from one of bars and clubs to one of watching her son. She had gotten a text from Neal a few hours earlier with a quick apology and a question as to where Henry had ended up. She tried not to let that resonate in her head, as she would think that he would be concerned about their son's well-being long before 24 hours had passed. She'd answered in a short explanation that the pre-teen was with her, but offering no details or even lecture. Perhaps it would serve him right to worry about her reaction without knowing it's intent.
"Love, are you still awake?" he asked, shaking her a bit.
"Yes, sorry. I was just thinking."
"No doubt interesting thoughts to distract you, but I was just thinking we might want to get some sleep. You've packed us quite a scheduled for tomorrow. Wouldn't do for us to slumber through an athletic event."
She checked her phone again, seeing another message from Elsa that said she was fine. "I guess you're right." She stood up and began tossing a bit of the trash away as Killian did the same. Half waking her son, she walked him to the guestroom that had the two full sized beds and paused there momentarily as he fell onto the bed with very little grace. He got that from her. Considering her options, she frowned at the idea of sleeping in the empty bed there in that room. Yes, it would be simpler and even more correct by the PTA crowd at school.
But she wasn't exactly planning bondage with whips and chains in the other room. She was not really planning anything at all other than the warmth of Killian's body wrapped around hers. For as lovely as the night before had been, she had found the peace of being there in his arms was a feeling that she kind of wanted to replicate.
"Get out of here, mom," her son said with a pillow partially over his head. "I can't sleep with you watching me."
So it wasn't be resounding sign she might have requested from God, but was permission and with that she blew her son a kiss and shut the door behind her. Killian had already changed to a pair of sleep pants and was resting beneath the covers, a book in his hand when she entered.
He cleared his throat, looking up from the page as she reached into her bag for her small toiletry kit. "I wasn't sure," he said, his right foot moving under the cover. "I thought you might…"
"Henry kicked me out," she said, tucking the bag under her arm and heading toward the mirror. "I could sleep on the couch I suppose."
"I think that is a bit pointless, especially since the gentleman in me would do that in a heart beat if you wanted."
She sighed, rocking back on her heels. "I'm sure that this is supposed to be easier. Killian, I should warn you that I don't know how to do this. I don't usually stick around for the whole night. So a second night in here with you…it's not exactly my style."
"I feel honored," he said. She immediately noted his lack of sarcasm. "Emma, you may not believe me, but I truly would be completely happy to hold you. It doesn't have to be…"
"I'm trying to believe."
He shifted on the bed, watching her hurry through her nightly routine. It was something he had missed the night before, as they had been a bit more passionate with each other when they had returned. She might not regret anything that had happened, but there was a sense of awkwardness when a couple had been intimate but not ever discussed what either wanted or if there was even a future. He hoped and prayed that there was, desiring the idea more than any in the past.
"Your brother is going to want to talk to you tomorrow," she said, breaking through his thoughts as the bed dipped under her slight weight. "Something happened tonight at the show." The sadness that she had worn when she walked through the door earlier had returned as she slid under the covers and stared at the ceiling. "His song…it wasn't exactly original."
Killian listened as Emma explained the situation, the only noise he made a grunt when she talked of the lyrics. "Did he say where he got the idea?"
"From some of your writing," Emma answered, not meeting his eyes as the words drapes over them. "He wasn't exactly wanting to explain this to me, but he said you had been writing some things lately. He only meant…"
Having been propped up on one arm to look at her as she spoke, the bounced on the mattress when he fell back. "Emma, I want to explain. I never intended for you to read those…"
She exhaled slowly, still staring up at the ceiling that offered no hint as to how to explain this. "I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure if that was about me." Her voice sounded small and almost fragile. When she lifted a hand to cover her face, he felt a clench in his heart for the way she sounded as if she was too afraid to believe it. "Don't answer that. I don't want to know."
"Love, I was writing down some of the things I felt about you. I was perhaps a bit shy about sharing those thoughts with you when you have been clear that you have a tendency to run. I suppose I was waiting on a better time to share those thoughts with you." In her peripheral vision she could see he was biting at his bottom lip with a nervous tic. "Emma, I'm sorry. My brother should have never used those words. And he certainly shouldn't have revealed that I…"
"It's not your fault," she said, her lower lip quivering slightly. "It's not your fault that he did that. And it is not your fault that I am so broken and messed up that you can't be sure how I might take even the suggestion that…well, you know."
"Emma, surely you must realize I have feelings for you that are beyond a vague interest." Reaching out, he placed three fingers under her chin and gently guided her to turn her face toward him. "I hope I haven't been so secretive that I made you doubt that."
"I guess this would be a good time for me to say I feel the same," she mused, not fighting the pull of him but not aiding it either. "I'm just not sure I'm…Killian, do you know the first thing that I thought when I found out those words were about me? My first reaction was to think, 'why?' Why would you want or care about someone like me? I get that you thought I was a challenge at first. I was too standoffish. I was too dead set against letting Granny be right that you are a great guy. But you won that challenge. So why would someone like you think that I'm even possibly all the things that Liam sang about in that song? Don't you realize that nobody thinks that about me? Nobody." She felt a sense of relief to finally say that to him, to reveal that she was not worthy of songs being written about her. There was a sadness to voicing that to him, but it was still an exhausting prospect of trying to live up to the idea.
"Emma, who ever told you that you were worthy of anything and everything?" When she didn't answer but didn't pull away, he let his hand travel from her chin to cup her cheek. "I'd truly love to know. I'd say they deserve a good kick in the arse for ever making you doubt yourself, love. Emma, there isn't a person on this earth who doesn't deserve someone who believes in them and cares about them. Maybe we aren't either one ready to say more than that, but believe me. No matter if you run screaming from this room and I never see you again or if you fall asleep in my arms and I get to watch you fight so hard to wake up that you practically dig a hole in the mattress, I'm going to continue believing you are the most beautiful and special woman I know. Now tell me the truth. Does that make you want to run away?" His eyes scanned down her face for any sign at all that she understood, feeling a bit hopeful as she slightly nodded.
"I think I can live with that," she said softly. "You know, it's kind of hard to fight with you or tell you what's bothering me."
His thumb was making semi-circle patterns on her cheek with a softness that she could barely detect. "I assure you that I have my faults. If you are overlooking them, that's perhaps a sign that I am not being as open as I should be."
"I didn't say you were perfect," she said, scooting a bit closer to him. "You talk in your sleep."
"Aye, I've heard that. I've also been told that I have cold feet."
"You do. But that's kind of cute so long as you keep those ice cubes to yourself." She slapped her hand over her mouth to mute her squeal as his bare feet rubbed against her calves. "You are so mean. You jerk." He laughed as she wiggled fruitlessly to get away from him.
"I prefer scoundrel, love."
She pretended to think on that as he closed that last bit of distance between them, his mouth finding hers and nipping at her bottom lip. Against him as their breath mingled and their bodies wrapped together, she smiled and again wondered if maybe she wasn't as scared as she was trying to tell herself she was.
***AAA***
Liam dropped his head to his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he sat in the rather uncomfortable chair next to the bed. "I'm sorry," he said for he didn't know how many times. "I don't know what else…Do you want me to leave you be?"
The dampness on her face was not from fresh tears, but she wiped at them anyway. "No, I understand. I really do. I just wish…If you were having trouble, why didn't you come to me? Why didn't you say you didn't have time to listen to my questions about finding a drummer or a guitarist? You spent all this time with me and let me go on and on about my issues, but you didn't ever tell me that you were struggling with something. If you wanted to use that composition, I'm fine with that. You just didn't tell me."
Somewhere inside he knew that she had a point. He had placed all his concentration on Elsa and wooing her, rather than on his own efforts to perform. Killian was going to be another issue all together, as that breach in confidences was a big issue too. His brother would be livid to learn that he had retrieved those lyrics, crossing lines that they had long ago set in place.
"I did a piss poor job of trying to balance myself," he said. "All of this…me, you, my obligations to the guys, my brother, everything. Elsa, please know I wasn't trying to deceive or hurt you."
"I think I know that."
"And I hope you know that maybe my trouble was that I was overwhelmed with it all rather than uninspired. I am not this person, Elsa. I'm not disingenuous or fake."
She placed her hands in a prayer like position over her nose and mouth, breathing in and out. Finally she lowered her hands and pulled in a deep breath. "I'm not looking for excuses or reasons, Liam. I'm not angry exactly. It is more a matter of me being disappointed. You have been wonderful to me, so sweet, patient, kind, considerate, romantic…but this kind of threw me. It's not so much what you did that has me feeling this way. I scared myself. I let myself trust you and feel things for you. I made myself vulnerable and I hate that. I hate that you can hurt me."
"I would never try to hurt you, Elsa. Darling, you have to believe that." His voice broke as he asked her to trust him.
"I don't think you would ever mean to do that, but the fact that you can scares me."
***AAA***
Killian sang in the shower. Emma chalked that up to one more thing she knew about the man that made him a little more endearing and wonderful. She knew he had bad habits too, such as rushing into decisions and becoming so head strong about them that the avoided obvious needs to change his mind on even the simplest ideas. She knew that he worked too hard at times, neglecting things that needed to be done. He also had a tendency to judge people too quickly. Then there was his awful taste in television and movies.
Smiling to herself as she heard him belting out some 1980s hair band hit, Emma left the bedroom she had shared with him and made her way to the shared living area to straighten up a bit and throw their belongings into suitcases. Assuming that Henry was probably still asleep, she managed to make the room appear somewhat normal and not like a party had been held in there the night before.
"Mom?" Henry asked as he emerged from his part of the suite. His hair was askew every which way and he was rubbing his eyes. "Do we have anything for breakfast?"
She should have guessed that food would be his first concern. He was always like that, scrunching up his face as she reminded him they would be checking out soon and that packing was the current priority. There were a few grumbles, but he had not unpacked that much since he had stayed overnight. There was a bit of a panic in finding his shoes that ended when she found one in his bathroom and one next to the sofa, but she managed to not ask any questions on the logistics of that.
"I like him," Henry said suddenly, breaking away from his discussion of the math test that was coming up the next week. "I actually do."
She raised an eyebrow trying to figure out who it was that her son was referring to when he tilted his head in the direction of the room where Killian was getting dressed. "Oh," she said noncommittally. "Oh…well…good."
Henry shifted, leaning over to pull the television remote out from behind one of the cushions. It was amazing that he always seemed to be able to find such devices without much effort. "I think he likes you," he said, hesitating as he gave a look toward the closed door. "I mean likes you."
Emma was assaulted with images of notes being passed in class and whispers in the cafeteria as were customary for children her son's age. "Maybe so," she managed to say. "And it's okay with you that…" She wasn't sure what to say. For as close as Emma and Killian had become, they had not truly discussed what it was that they were too each other. She didn't particularly care for labels and designations, but sometimes they made it easier for discussions like this.
Henry's chocolate eyes dropped downward to the floor and seemed to be studying it carefully. "Are you going to get married like Dad? I know that Mr. Jo…Killian is not like Tamara, but still…"
The amount of time that Emma had spent with Tamara was limited, but she did not have many good things to say about the woman. She was polite and seemed a good influence on Neal when it came to his temper and interest in stability. However, she was at times cold and did not seem to want to bond with Henry at all. "Wait? Your dad's engaged?"
"We talked about that it was probably happening," Henry said, seeming somewhat apologetic for breaking the news that way. "They just sort of made it official in front of me right before Dad went to the hospital."
From the anguished look on her son's face that he was clearly trying to hide, Emma was sure that Neal's illness was some kind of poetic justice. However, that was not the question he was asking. "Killian and I aren't even talking about that," she assured him, feeling a bit strange that she was thinking it at that early stage. "And if we ever do, it won't change anything for me and you. The two of us are a package deal, remember? And that means that if you're not happy, I'm not."
"I'd be okay with it."
"Great," Emma said, sarcasm becoming evident. "If and when the time comes to have that conversation, I'll be sure to let Killian know. In the meantime, let's not freak the guy out with the fact that we are even having this conversation. And let's not forget that I've got work to do, a day to get underway for the three of us, and you to get back home in time for school tomorrow."
***AAA***
Elsa gave a weak and apologetic smile to Emma as the trio entered the breakfast area. If she had been feeling more like herself, she would have laughed at the way Henry nearly leapt over people and pulled Killian with him to explore the myriad of options and called aloud his findings of an omelet station that would provide him with any of the items he could want in his eggs.
"He's a growing boy," Emma said, sliding into one of the chairs next to her. "Can't stop him."
Humming under her breath, the other blonde circled her plastic stirrer in the coffee and frowned. "I'm so sorry I had a melt down. You've been so awesome about promoting us and making sure we were comfortable. Please understand that it has nothing to do with you or what you did."
"I know. Liam told me what he had done. He's not exactly proud of it."
Lifting her eyes, she looked into the concerned ones of her friend and manager. "He's very sorry for what he did. He's actually off talking to the band right now, explaining himself."
Watching her bite at her lip and fiddle with the paper cup of coffee without drinking it, Emma knew that her friend was clearly still upset. "Killian and I were planning to take Henry to a game this afternoon. If you need me, I can send them on their own. I don't mind. And if you need me to drive you back to Storybrooke, just let me know. We have room in the jeep. I don't want you feeling uncomfortable or like you have to ride with Liam."
Elsa shook her head emphatically. "It's going to be fine," she said, throwing up three fingers as if giving a scouting oath. "I'm going to be fine. I'm just sort of regretting that I let this bother me so much."
"You have every reason to be upset," Emma assured her. "I'm upset. I haven't talked to Regina or Zelena about it yet, but I think we may pull the plug on the band's pending contract. You and Anna are fine, but the guys…I can't risk Liam doing something like this and it being someone else's music. That's a big risk and a lawsuit waiting to happen. He's just lucky that it is you and Killian that he stole from. You guys aren't planning to sue him over copyright."
"I told him last night that it wasn't the music that bothered me," Elsa explained, her voice sounding smaller than normal. Usually she was bolder with her sounds and even a bit bossy with her demands for things. To hear her timid and demure was an odd juxtaposition. "It's…I'm not sure how I'm supposed to deal with this. I hate that I let it happen."
Emma was probably one of the best people to understand, having some of the same feelings herself. "Do you know what I thought when I realized that the lyrics he was singing were written by Killian for me?" There was no response as Elsa dropped her eyes again to the untouched coffee. "I wanted to freak out. I wanted to hide because it all felt too real. Not only was I dealing with Liam's confession, I was realizing that maybe things with Killian were…"
"You felt vulnerable?"
"Yeah," Emma admitted, looking over to where her son was clearly giving a long list to the man at the egg station. Killian looked openly amused and nudged Henry with his elbow. Her son's reaction was to throw his head back in laughter over something that was said. Both of them seem unconcerned by the display and were clearly sharing a moment of entertainment between them. "It completely sucks."
"Yeah, it does," Elsa agreed, finally lifting the coffee to her lips. "But it also doesn't."
Emma doesn't answer right away, noting the way that Killian slid his hand under Henry's plate to prevent a spill when something caught her son's attention. She could still feel the way that hand had felt on her skin, touching her as though she might somehow disappear in front of him. There was something sweetly protective about him, as if he did not want harm to come to her or her son. That was oddly comforting and disconcerting at the same time. "Yeah."
"So you haven't talked to Regina yet?" Elsa asked when Emma looked back at her. "I mean about last night."
"I got some texts that the blogs and online media are buzzing about how well you two did. Everyone loved the songs, the performance, and everything else. I gather she wants to speed up the release and is even talking about funding a music video to release with the first song. Sounds like we'll be busy." She gave her that tight smile that she normally did when conversation turned to business. "Sounds like Regina is on board with really going forward. That's a big deal. She's usually very selective and careful. So having her pushing for more…"
"Is a big deal," Elsa repeated. "I can't believe it. We're really making this happen." She glanced to where Killian was sprinkling cinnamon in the two hot chocolates that Henry was holding. The two were talking and shooting glances toward Emma. "What about Liam and the guys?"
"I don't know," Emma said honestly. "I don't know right now."
***AAA***
It was nearly 11 by the time the jeep pulled in the parking lot at Emma and Henry's apartment. Just as Robin had passed out in the back of it on another trip from Boston, Henry was awkwardly positioned with an arm against the window and one leg sort of caught between the two front seats, his foot near the gear shift.
The two adults had kept the conversation low, talking some of Liam and the situation there but mostly about music and childhood dreams that they had both shared. Killian cut the engine and gave a tender look toward Henry. "I'll help you get him upstairs," he whispered. "Looks like it might be a chore."
Looking like she might protest, Emma was not quick enough when Killian jumped out of the jeep and lugged the duffel bag that contained Henry's clothes and his backpack over his shoulder. He had her overnight bag on wheels already unloaded as she shook Henry awake enough to guide him toward the building. She relieved him of the bag and basically pointed Henry in the direction, grabbing hold of his shoulder when he nearly ran into a sign post.
"He's quite a sleeper."
"He doesn't get that from me," Emma mused. "But I guess you noticed that…"
She would blame the wind for the blush on her cheeks when he chuckled. This was another moment that she usually avoided by sneaking out after being with a guy. Second dates and conversations were something that made her stomach turn. She was now getting used to both, but there was still that drop that she likened to riding a roller coaster.
"I think I was just appreciating the company," he answered, not taking the obvious bait.
Henry was soon enough in his bed and his shoes lined up by the door. His backpack was repacked and Emma was contemplating a note in it to wish him luck on his audition. She hated that he had not gotten much of a chance to rehearse, but Killian had assured her that he was more than prepared. That was where their conversation had gone when Killian poured them both a glass of wine instead of beating a hasty retreat to the door.
"You're avoiding him," Emma said, collapsing onto the sofa with a bit of a grunt. It seemed funny that a drive could exhaust someone. "Liam wants to talk to you. He wants to apologize."
"Other than outing my feelings I have no ill will toward my brother," he said, taking a sip resting his left arm on the back of the cushions and across her shoulders. "But eventually we will have to have that discussion."
"I think he is sorry about that." She could not imagine the panic that Liam must still be feeling. While Elsa was being stoic, she was not fighting with him. The guys in the band had been upset at first, but most were holding off their anger until a decision was made about the fate of the recording contract. Killian had not said much to his brother other than discussing logistics of returning to Maine. It had to be hard not to know if your actions had ruined everything or not.
"No doubt, but there is nothing I can do about it right now. Perhaps that was is punishment, to sit in anxiety and flux."
She put the back of her hand against her mouth and yawned. "I have work in the morning," she said, quietly contemplating how much sleep she could get if she went to bed now. "And so do you."
"Aye, I should leave you to it. Emma, I know this weekend wasn't exactly as we planned or imagined…"
"I thought it was pretty damn good," she interrupted. "And if it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of bummed that we won't be sharing a bed tonight."
He smiled shyly, lowering his head to rub his nose lightly against hers. "I could stay."
His mouth was almost touching hers and it would be easy enough to close that gap. She could invite him to stay the night, get up early in the morning to get them both on their way. It would be easy until her mind and heart conflicted on the topic. "I think your brother is waiting on you."
He didn't say anything, brushing against her lips with feather like touches three times before deepening his efforts. There was no telling by either of their estimating how long they kissed, curling into each other and holding tightly. When they pulled apart, he dropped another kiss to her forehead and smiled. "Good night, love."