"You don't want to do that."
Jared's on the edge of the bridge, already on the other side of the railing, ready to drop into space and maybe hit the water or the rocks hard enough to black out. It doesn't really matter. All he can think about right now is stopping the pain.
But suddenly there's this guy, standing on the bridge a couple of feet away, and it throws Jared off because this bridge was deserted when he got here. It's closed for fucking repairs, for God's sake, and it's out in the middle of nowhere and Jared's been here for almost an hour with nobody else so much as driving by and nothing but the sound of the wind and water crashing against the rocks below...
"What?" he turns his head, catches a glimpse of the guy. He's wearing jeans and work-boots, a simple black jacket over a collared shirt – working man's costume.
But even in the dark, his face is – well, it's glowing, for fuck's sake. The man is pale, with vivid green eyes and perfect features and Jared can see every freckle, plain as day.
Jared glances down at the water, then back at the guy again because he can't look away, he has to see that face again because – it must be a trick of the moonlight. Except when Jared glances up at the sky, it's full of clouds. No moon.
"I said, you don't want to do that."
The man has a deep, soothing voice with a hint of gravel, a touch of honey, and Jared definitely wants to hear him speak again, could almost give up his plan just to listen to the guy's voice.
But no. No way is he letting some gorgeous stranger with a purring voice distract him from what he needs. Jared needs the darkness, the silence, he needs an end to the agony. This is what he wants. He's planned this, picked this place weeks ago, and now spent an hour working himself up to it, making his brain work through the problem. It's the only way.
"There's always another way," the stranger says, and Jared shoots another look at him.
He really is beautiful. If Jared had met him a month ago...
"How do you know?" Jared knows he should ignore the man, get on with his plan, although he's feeling a twinge of guilt now because this guy is going to watch as Jared does what he has to do, and that's not something Jared would wish on his worst enemies.
"Because," the man shrugs. "There always is. This is never the answer."
"You really shouldn't be here," Jared says.
"Oh, I think I should," the man says, taking a step closer.
Jared puts a hand up, starts to lose his balance and grabs hold of the railing instead.
"No, you really shouldn't," he insists, and now there are tears in his eyes, damn it. He thought he was done with that. "You shouldn't have to watch this. It's – it's not your fault. It's got nothing to do with you."
"That's where you're wrong," the man says, taking another step. "It's got everything to do with me. That's why I'm here."
"Don't come any closer!" Jared warns. "You can't stop me! This is what I want!"
"I'm sorry, Jared," the man says softly, and Jared looks up sharply, momentarily thrown by the man's use of his name. "I'm afraid it isn't. At all."
"How do you – "
And that's all it takes. Jared slips, scrambles to grab hold of the railing in a last-ditch effort to catch himself, but it's no use.
I meant to do this on my own terms, damn it! he screams inside his head at the man and at the world as he's suddenly falling, flailing wildly as his body struggles for survival even as his mind knows it's all over.
There's nothing left but the rocks and the cold, dark water, rushing up to meet him as he falls faster and faster, wind rushing past his ears, making his eyes tear. All he can hope for is that he'll lose consciousness before impact.
The last thing Jared sees is the beautiful man standing on the edge of the bridge, staring down at him with his jaw clenched in an expression at once determined and sorrowful, like he's the one who's just decided to end his life as he knows it.
And the weird thing is, Jared could have sworn he saw the shadow of massive feathered wings rise up behind the man, as if he's about to take flight.
Then Jared feels a jolt as he lands hard and the world goes dark.
Six Months Ago:
When he thinks back on it, Jared can pinpoint the exact moment his life began to fall apart. On September 13, 2005 he was a twenty-three-year-old college senior finishing up a liberal arts degree with short-term plans to move to Los Angeles to pursue an acting career. He'd agreed to his parents' terms to give it two years, after which he promised to get a master's degree in teaching and follow his mother into the classroom.
He'd already given the acting bug a chance with a year away from school before college, which was why he was a year older than most of his classmates, and the experience had toughened him and given him confidence. He knew that making it as an actor was a crapshoot at best, but he'd been in love with the stage since he was four years old, and he was lucky enough to have parents who believed their children should pursue their dreams, up to a reasonable limit, so Jared was pumped to get started.
But shit happens, as Jared learned on September 13, the day he was called out of class and met by a plain-clothed police detective who explained that his parents and little sister had all just died in a car accident. Was there someone Jared could go to?
"No, it's just us," Jared answered perfunctorily as the walls of his world came crashing down around him. Jared's older brother had died in a hunting accident as a teenager, the defining tragedy of his life up to this moment.
He gave his permission to some of his mother's friends to help plan the funerals, then left school the next day to go home for the last time. The next few weeks were a blur of donated casseroles, lawyers, life insurance settlements and real-estate brokers. After clearing out and selling his parents' house there was barely enough left for Jared to put a deposit down on an apartment. So Jared took his dad's old Ford pick-up truck, luckily all paid for, and drove away from San Antonio for the last time, headed to Los Angeles to pursue his dream.
It was what his mother would want, he told himself as he drove, hours alone in his Dad's pick-up truck giving him plenty of time to think. He couldn't go back to school even if he could afford the tuition payments on his own. There were too many concerned friends there, and he needed a clean break. Time to put the past behind him and look forward to a new future, a new life.
Within a month he'd run out of money. Within two months he was on the street, cashing in on the few friendships he'd made standing around at auditions, making enough money as a dish-washer and busboy to eat once in a while. He'd lost weight, which made him look younger, so he tried out for anything that came up, losing days away from work being an extra on various TV shows just for the meager earnings and hot meals.
He got close sometimes, rushing into call-back auditions with a pounding heart and renewed hope only to be rejected, passed over yet again by some young, fresh-faced kid with more experience working in TV or film. It was a constant catch-22, Jared's lack of experience of the kind producers and agents wanted. He couldn't get jobs because he hadn't done those kinds of jobs, didn't have his Equity card because he couldn't get cast in an Equity production.
The day he accepted an offer from a producer of adult TV programming was not a good day.
Jared told himself it was work. It was just work. It put food on the table and allowed him to collect enough for a down-payment on an apartment. He would do it for six months, he told himself, enough to get back on his feet and save enough so he could start auditioning for legit parts again.
The irony that the adult film industry wanted him for roles he couldn't get in non-adult programming was not lost on Jared. He played high-school jocks, pizza-delivery boys, a college kid going door-to-door to demonstrate vacuum cleaners to lonely housewives. Okay, those last two were total cliches, but. The writing was terrible, of course, but he was working with some of the hottest names in adult films, and he couldn't say he really minded having sex with such beautiful women as Genevieve Cortese and Danneel Harris. Getting paid to do it was only the icing on the cake. Sure, it was humiliating once in a while, and sometimes it was just plain boring. But these people were professionals. They knew what they were doing and they did it well. After a month or so Jared decided that becoming a porn stud wasn't the worst decision he'd ever made after all.
Then came the day that Sebastian Roché, the producer and director, sold Jared's contract to another filmmaker.
"It's the way this business works, Jared," Sebastian explained when he took Jared aside. It was the middle of a long day of filming, and Jared was nearly naked, had gotten used to walking around with just a pair of boxers or a towel around his waist between scenes while he waited. The women were even bolder. They undressed as soon as they got to work and stayed nude all day, just letting it hang out between costume changes, which weren't very frequent.
Jared wasn't quite there yet. He still maintained a modicum of modesty, plus it was damned uncomfortable to let his unusually-sized dick hang free between scenes. He was too aware of the eyes of the crew and male cast members, and although he was doing fine in front of the camera, somehow being watched off-camera was still a little disconcerting, still made him a little self-conscious.
"Mark just wants to borrow you for a few months," Sebastian went on. "He's watched you perform, and he thinks you'd be perfect for some of his projects."
"Mark Pellegrino?" Jared was surprised. "Doesn't be make gay porn?"
Sebastian smiled, and that look alone should have tipped Jared off that something about this wasn't quite right.
"You'll be great," Sebastian assured him. "Perfect, in fact, for what he has in mind."
And that really should have creeped Jared way the hell out.
The next day when Jared reported to work, Mark was there with a new crew and two muscled, tattooed dudes who sized Jared up like he was a fine cut of beef. The rest of the crew had cleared the set except for a lone cameraman who Jared didn't recognize.
"This is Buck," Mark introduced one of the men, then gestured to the other. "And this is Irv. They work together."
"Always," agreed Buck. Irv smiled and cracked his knuckles, and Jared felt his stomach sink. None of this looked good. At all.
"So for this first piece, we need you to play a virgin college student," Mark explained. "Buck and Irv have picked you up in a bar and brought you back here, to this motel. You've never had gay sex before."
Jared stared at him, horrified. "No, I haven't," he agreed as panic rushed through his veins and sweat dampened his palms and the back of his neck. "I really never have. For real."
"Ah," Mark nodded, folding one arm in front of his chest and resting his chin on his other hand. "Then you won't even have to act, will you?"
Jared's mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Irv and Buck were watching him with smiles that were almost feral, and Jared was reminded of hungry wolves.
"You can't – You can't be serious," he stammered as Buck and Irv moved toward him, circling. "I can't do that. I'm not – I don't swing that way.. I'm not gay."
"No," Mark agreed. "You're bi. You just don't know it yet. Any more questions?"
Jared finally found his voice, pulled himself up to his full height as he put his hands up in front of himself in the universal gesture to stop and back off.
"Wait," he demanded. "This is crazy. I can't do this."
"Why?" Mark shook his head. "What's the problem? Do you need drugs? A fluffer or two?"
"No!" Jared snorted out a laugh of disbelief. "I can't do this because I just can't, okay? This is a no-go for me. I'm drawing the line here."
"Why?" Mark seemed genuinely surprised, although the smirk on his face gave him away. "Is it because there's two of them? Would it be easier if there was just one to start?"
"No!" Jared exploded, angry now because Mark seemed to be taunting him. "I'm not doing this. It isn't what I signed up for!"
"Oh, see, that's where you're wrong, Jared," Mark smiled, but his eyes were cold. "I paid for you. You're mine now. You'll do what I say because you owe me money, and I always collect my debts. Always."
Jared could feel the ground shifting under his feet. He could feel his chest rise and fall as he started to hyperventilate. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be real.
"I'll go to the police," he gasped out. "You can't make me do this."
"You're a porn actor, Jared," Mark reminded him. "That's as good as a prostitute to them. Scum of the earth. You think they're going to take your word over mine? I'm a respected businessman. Pillar of the community. I give money to charity."
Mark took a step closer, and Jared physically recoiled. Every bone in his body rebelled against the things Mark was saying, even while he knew they were true. Jared had done this to himself. He'd gone down this road of his own volition, and this was where it had led him. He was trapped.
"Hey, it's not that bad," Mark purred. He seemed to read the defeat in Jared's face. "The pay's good. The market for this stuff is growing, especially among single straight women. You'd be surprised at the number of women who subscribe to our channels. You get good at this, you'll be a star in no time."
Jared felt tears smarting at the backs of his eyes. He was certain he would never get used to this. Ever.
"Look, we want you to enjoy it, obviously," Mark seemed to soften now that he was sure of Jared's cooperation. "Why don't we start with something a little more romantic, huh? Nice quiet dinner, maybe some dancing, a little walk in the moonlight? Sound better?"
Jared blinked back tears as Mark pulled out his phone to make a call, and within minutes Buck and Irv had been replaced by a clean-cut young man in jeans and a tee-shirt, a casual jacket hanging off his broad shoulders.
"Jared, meet Eric," Mark introduced the young man. "Your date. A blind date, set up by your girlfriend at the office where you intern because she wants you to be happy. She's a good friend, and she sees that you're probably gay, even if you haven't admitted it to yourself yet. Eric's going to take you to dinner, then back to his apartment. Okay? Are we good? Everybody having fun now?"
Jared wasn't, actually. But Eric Johnson was a pro. Once he realized it was Jared's first time having sex on camera with a guy, he convinced Mark to let them take a break, get to know each other first. Build the trust that Jared would need to allow this to happen.
"Okay, but I need you both back here tomorrow morning, nine a.m. sharp." Mark admonished. "And Jared needs to be ready to film that first time like it's the real thing."
Eric had a nice car. He wore nice clothes, and he knew where to take Jared to eat and walk on the beach. He had an easy, comfortable way about him that put Jared at ease, and even though he knew what was coming, Jared was almost able to forget about his contract with Mark Pellegrino. He could almost believe he hadn't backed himself into a corner and couldn't get out.
But he had. Eric had a nice apartment, and when he assured Jared that he was welcome to stay the night, Jared understood this was all the training he could expect. Even though Eric took things slow that night, explained gay sex as patiently as possible as he guided Jared through the mechanics with lots of lube and encouragement, it was still painful and humiliating. He did his best to imagine it was Genevieve or Danneel sucking his dick, penetrating him with a dildo.
But of course it wasn't. And no matter how Eric kissed and caressed and whispered soothing words, Jared couldn't shake the feeling of being used. He understood that if he did this job well, he could end up with nice things, like Eric had. And if he thought about this as another acting job, as just a role or a series of roles in which he had to pretend he was into guys, he could make himself do it, even if it never felt as comfortable as having sex with women.
But when he lay in bed with Eric's arm draped over his hip later that night, Jared's body was flooded with a despair deeper than any he'd ever known. He yearned for his parents, his sister, his friends back home in San Antonio. He was filled with homesickness and gut-wrenching loneliness. He was sure this path led nowhere good. He could see himself taking drugs now, something he'd avoided up to this point but which he now knew he would need if he was to survive this. And starting down the road to addiction was something he had promised himself he would never do. It was the line in his mind that he had drawn from the day his family died.
Heavy-limbed and bone-weary, Jared pulled himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower as hot as it would go, leaving the lights off so he wouldn't wake Eric. He scrubbed until his skin was raw, then toweled off and wrapped the towel around his waist, standing in front of the mirror in the moonlight, just trying to center himself. He was still thinner than his usual self, still looked younger than his twenty-three years. There was a vulnerability about him, despite his height, and he could see why Pellegrino had wanted him. The gangly boy he had been was being replaced by something older and harder. Jared could almost see the outline of the muscular body he would have in a few months, after the work-out schedule Mark had planned for him. His face would lose its baby-fat and harden. His chiseled cheek-bones would become sharper and higher, giving his slanted eyes a calculating shrewdness that bordered on malevolent.
Jared saw himself a year from now, almost as if he were having a vision of his own future, glaring back at him from the mirror, strong jaw tensed in anger, body a wound-tight killing machine. Deadly.
Within a year, Jared would be luring younger men into Pellegrino's business. He would be seducing and conditioning them, just as Eric was doing for Jared.
"Oh no," Jared breathed, feeling his knees weakening. "Oh God, no. Please, no."
Jared grabbed the edge of the counter, just to keep from falling, as the truth of his insight whirled around him, the horror of his situation crashing down in the tiny bathroom. Pellegrino owned him now, and Jared had no doubt the man would send thugs after him if he tried to escape, would beat Jared into submission if he had to. Or worse.
He wasn't sure why he fell to his knees on the little soft rug in the bathroom that night. He wasn't even sure he knew what he was doing when he whispered to a God he didn't believe in. Praying hadn't worked for him before, all those years ago when his brother had died and Jared begged God to bring him back, to take Jared instead.
Praying hadn't worked before, and Jared didn't expect it to work this time. It was more an expression of his utter desperation than any real plea for celestial intervention. Jared understood now that his life was cursed, that every decision he had made over the past few months had been leading him deeper and deeper into Hell.
He was beginning to think there was only one thing he could do to stop it.
"Come on, Jeff," Jensen pleads. "This kid needs me."
The two angels stand quietly in a corner of the bedroom, unseen by Jared as the young man returns from the bathroom, drying tears from his cheeks as he gazes down at the sleeping form on the bed. Jensen can hear his prayer as clearly as if Jared was speaking aloud.
"Yeah, like he needed you the first time," Jeff answers, shaking his head. "See how well that worked out."
Jensen frowns. "That was my first assignment," he reminds his mentor. "Before I knew what I was doing."
"You do realize he's thinking about killing himself," Jeff says darkly. "If he goes through with it, you can't interfere."
Jensen feels a tingle of fear go up his spine, but he manages a stiff nod. Whatever it takes, whatever promises he has to make to get close to Jared again, it'll be worth it.
"I know," he says, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Being this close to Jared always throws him off. He doesn't know how he's managed to stay away as long as he has. "I can handle it."
He's not sure about that, to be honest. The idea of Jared going through with his plan is terrifying to Jensen. He's only stayed away from Jared as long as he has because he knew Jared was still out there in the world, still alive and breathing. As long as there was the possibility that Jared might pray for him again, as he had all those years ago after his brother's death, Jensen could leave him alone. Jensen could wait.
But if Jared really tried to kill himself, Jensen's not sure he could stand it. He's pretty sure he would do anything in his power to stop it, as a matter of fact.
But now Jared's prayed for him again. Now Jensen's got a last chance to save Jared before he does something stupid.
And maybe, if he plays his cards right, Jensen's got a chance to set right the mess he made seven years ago. The mess he created by appearing to the distraught sixteen-year-old on that fateful night when Jared kneeled by his bed, praying to whoever would listen to bring his brother back.
Seven Years Ago: May, 1999
"It doesn't work that way, you know," Jensen said quietly.
Jared startled, whirled around so quickly he fell on his ass, staring up at Jensen with big, red-rimmed eyes. His cheeks were streaked with tears, his nose was red and runny, and Jensen had to choke back a gasp because he'd never seen anything so beautiful.
"Who – who are you?" Jared demanded, his voice hitched and broken from crying. "What are you doing in my room?"
Jensen smiled gently and slipped to his knees on the worn shag carpet, his eyes never leaving Jared's face.
"I'm your guardian angel," he said softly. "You prayed for me."
Jared's eyes widened even further and he crawled backwards, crab-like, till his back was up against the side of the bed.
"No you're not," he protested weakly. "That's impossible. I don't have a guardian angel."
"Yes, you do, Jared," Jensen assured him. "Everyone does. You just didn't know it."
"No way," Jared shook his head. "If I have a guardian angel, he never would have let my brother die."
"I don't know about your brother, Jared," Jensen said. "I'm not his angel. I'm yours."
"No you're not," Jared said again. "Guardian angels are supposed to keep bad things from happening. And in case you didn't notice, something really really bad just happened to me. So if you're my guardian angel, I'd say you're doing a damn shitty job."
Jensen felt like he'd been kicked in the gut, which didn't make any sense since technically he didn't have a gut. Or a body at all. But somehow, making himself visible to Jared had given him a physical form that could register emotional pain, and he was definitely feeling that now.
Along with an overwhelming need to touch Jared, which also made no sense. The sixteen-year-old boy on the floor in front of him was definitely pretty, in a young-boy human kind of way. But it was his soul that took Jensen's breath away. It shone around the boy like an aura of pure light, brighter than anything Jensen had seen outside of Heaven. It didn't matter than this was Jensen's first job on Earth, his first time face-to-face with a human charge, and he didn't really have anything to compare this to. Jensen was just sure Jared's soul was the purest soul on Earth.
How could one human boy be this beautiful, inside and out? And how was Jensen not expected to fall in love with him?
"I'm sorry," Jensen said, finally tearing his eyes off Jared's face to stare down at his hands, lying loose in his lap. "It's my first job. I guess I'm not very good at it yet."
Jensen could hear Jared suck in a breath, then shift a little as he crawled forward, apparently drawn to Jensen despite himself. Jensen looked up again, startled, when Jared touched Jensen's cheek; the boy was staring at Jensen with a look of wonder in his multi-colored eyes from only a foot away, and for a moment all Jensen could do was stare back, mesmerized.
"You're real," Jared whispered after a moment, then he pulled his hand back as he seemed to realize what he was doing. "You feel human."
"We take human form when we need to," Jensen explained. "It makes it easier for our charges to trust us."
"So you don't always look like this?" Jared asked.
"I appear to you in a form you might find most pleasing," Jensen said, then quickly looked away because his face was heating up under Jared's gaze. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth and sucked on it, then let it go with a pop, glancing up again as Jared sucked in another breath.
Jared was staring at Jensen's mouth, his lips parted and eyes suddenly gone dark in a way that made Jensen's heart pound.
"How – how old are you?" Jared asked, his voice lower than it had been a moment before.
"I'm very old, Jared," Jensen said, trying to keep his voice steady in the midst of the influx of human emotions. "But in this body I'm sixteen, just like you."
"So you've been watching over me all my life?" Jared asked.
Jensen shook his head. "No," he admitted. "We only come when you call us. When you pray for us."
"And you can bring my brother back?"
"No, Jared," Jensen shook his head, genuinely sorry for the grief-stricken boy. "No one can do that. All I can do is offer comfort in your hour of need, as corny as it sounds."
Jared grinned, and it was like sunshine breaking through clouds.
"You're not really very good at this at all, are you?" he teased, and Jensen couldn't help smiling. The fact was, the longer he maintained this human form, the more his angelic self receded, taking with it the lists of rules and regulations and ways of expressing himself that Jensen had been taught.
Which wasn't such a bad thing, really, when he stopped to think about it.
"Guess not," Jensen agreed.
"So now that you're here, how long will you stay?"
Gazing into Jared's eyes, reading the hope and hurt there, the possibility that Jensen could really make a difference by helping to heal this boy's pain, by easing his grief just a little, Jensen couldn't remember why he should ever do anything but stay right where he was, with Jared, for as long as Jared needed him.
"However long it takes," he answered, and the look of relief in Jared's eyes was everything he never knew he needed.
They sat up and talked together for most of the night, discussing everything from Heaven to high school. Jared rambled on about his friends, his favorite books and sports, his love of drama and speech clubs. He asked questions about Heaven and angels, particularly about any superpowers they might possess, and Jensen answered as truthfully as he could, which was against the rules, of course. Jared seemed delighted by Jensen's tendency to break rules, and Jensen regaled him with stories of the antics and pranks he had committed. Jensen's misbehavior had resulted in his getting demoted time and time again, and he'd still be sitting in some filing office in Heaven if it wasn't for Jeff, who had only recently taken over the Guardian Angel Division in Heaven. Jeff had seen something in the errant angel that others had not, and it was on Jeff's recommendation that Jensen had finally been given the chance to work in the GAD, as it was referred to among the other angels.
"Jeff believes in me," Jensen explained as Jared listened raptly. "He's giving me a chance to prove myself here, and I intend to make him proud, if I can figure out what I'm supposed to be doing."
"Well, if my recommendation counts for anything, I'd give you at least a star-and-a-half for effort," Jared quipped.
"Out of five?" Jensen widened his eyes. "Only a star-and-a-half out of five? For effort? Are you kidding me?"
"Out of ten," Jared corrected, grinning wildly as Jensen threw a pillow at him. "Ooh, rookie move," he exclaimed as he grabbed the other end of the pillow, pushing it back at Jensen and following it with his weight, effectively wrestling Jensen to the ground with the pillow between them.
Jensen stopped struggling as soon as he felt himself pinned under Jared, keenly aware of Jared's bony knees and hips, the bird-like bones of his ribcage pressed against him as they panted and gasped for breath through their laughter.
Jensen lay on his back and stared up at Jared, studying him, trying to understand his own intense feelings. Jared's eyes were twinkling, his cheeks were flushed, and his hair was mussed in such a way that Jensen wanted to run his fingers through it but knew he didn't dare. Jared lay on top of Jensen just a moment too long, and when his eyes dropped to Jensen's mouth Jensen licked his lips almost unconsciously, making Jared blush furiously and sit back, letting him go without even being asked.
"I should try to get some sleep," Jared said, keeping his eyes down, and Jensen was sure now that he had felt the outline of Jared's erection through the thin cotton of his pajamas. Jensen was wearing only a tee-shirt and sweatpants himself, so he should know. "Do you sleep?"
"Not usually," Jensen admitted. "But I can. Do you want me to stay while you sleep?"
Jared raised his eyes to Jensen again, and the naked emotion there nearly took his breath away. It wasn't exactly sexual, although that was undoubtedly part of it. Jared was intensely attracted, and Jensen had already established that the feeling was mutual, which should not have been happening. Getting personally involved with a charge was forbidden.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" Jared asked, plaintive.
"I can be," Jensen nodded. "I can stay as long as you need me, although your parents might think it's a little weird if you never leave your bedroom."
"Can you – can you come to school with me?" Jared asked, and Jensen smiled.
"I can," Jensen said. "Although you're the only one who can see me."
"Okay," Jared grinned. "I can live with that."
Jensen had the distinct impression Jared was relieved that he was the only one who could see Jensen, and Jensen thought there was something a little possessive in that relief, which Jensen didn't mind. Belonging to Jared, and only to Jared, didn't seem like a bad thing at all.
Jensen was in trouble and he knew it, but he was already too in love to care.
PART TWO | BACK TO MASTERPOST