#sparrow writes

Fuck this. 

If he’s moving on, you’re going to as well. 

You force your focus back to your date, who has been nothing but attentive, polite, and seems actually interested in you. So you eat your steak tartare and tell him stories too. You tell him about your job, your best friend, about Nori, that you like to paint whenever you can. But you don’t tell him about your fear of airplanes, that you’re allergic to bees and always get jittery when there’s one nearby.

You don’t tell him you love the summer but there’s something special about a rainy day when you have nothing to do. The way you fall asleep with the pellets as comforting sounds. 

He isn’t privy to those.

Out of the corner of your eyes you see Hajime’s date lean closer, taking a bite out of his entree with her own fork. You clench your jaw because eat your own fucking plate, he doesn’t like that. Hajime’s eyes meet yours immediately as she does, and he doesn’t seem surprised to see you looking. He looks down at his plate, then at you like “did you see that?” 

You saw. But you don’t find it as amusing as he did. So you huff slightly and look back to your own plate. That’s when you decide to continue with your plan. You take it a step further, leaning forward to thank Ren for the date by placing your hand on his forearm, which isn’t nearly as attractive as Hajime’s but that’s not why you’re doing it. You smile and wait a few seconds before checking if he saw.

He definitely did. 

He gives himself away by clicking his tongue, stabbing a piece of food and looking away. 

Serves him right. 

Your plan kind of backfires when Ren takes your move as freedom to do whatever he wants so he brings his hand up gently and takes a strand of your hair, playing with it. Which ew, who does that on the first date?

You smile through the cringe and when he drops it, excuse yourself to go to the bathroom because you could never control your facial expressions and you don’t think it would be polite to gag and make the staff think the food is bad.

“Shit.” 

You curse under your breath to yourself as you stand up because the bathroom is, of course, past the happy couple’s table. You can do it. You’re badass, you’re hot and fuck them. So you wipe imaginary dust off your skirt, square your shoulders back and begin to walk, letting your hips sway a little deliberately, but not too obvious.

It’s a feat that you don’t look at him, but when you walk by and you get a scent of his cologne, the one that hasn’t changed in three years, your eyes flutter for a moment. 

Fuck. 

Fucking fuck. 

Can he not be hot and smell so heavenly? 

You reach the bathroom out of utter willpower, bracing your hands on the marble faucet, trying to even your breathing. In and out. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You do that a couple times and get your phone out of your purse, thumbing quickly until you reach your best friend’s contact. You type quickly. 

you: guess who’s here

her: no.  her: please don’t say who I’m thinking of  her: oh no, you’re typing. 

you: hajime

her: fuuuuuckkkk  her: deadass?  her: gtg?  her: i can be there in five minutes if I break some laws  her: maybe your hot friend Daichi can cuff me MHMMMMM

you: down, girl you: im good, just you: he’s on a date 

her: well… so are you babe 

you: i know! 

You start your ranting paragraph as fast as you can so Ren doesn’t think you’d escaped through the window or something. Your breathing gets hard again as you’re halfway through the message.

Some part of you hears the door push open, but you’re too focused to look up and smile politely. There’s another three faucets, you can keep this one. 

“Bored already?” 

Your mouth parts, your fingers freeze, your breathing gets even worse. All because you recognize the voice. How could you not? It’s the same one that helped you through endless nights of English tutoring, that helped your little brother figure out how to pitch a ball correctly. The voice that told you years ago that he’s always loved you. 

But it’s also the one that decided that maybe your relationship wasn’t working out. 

You take a deep breath, look up and there he is. With a smirk on his face like he knew this would happen. 

“You’re in the wrong bathroom.” 

He shrugs, hands on his pockets which makes his biceps stand out. 

“Nah.” 

You snort. 

“No?” 

“No. So, you bored already?” 

“Why would I be bored?”

You turn to the mirror, fixing your lipstick when in reality you need a moment to recover. You see him take a step closer through the mirror. 

“Because instead of being out there on your date,” he says with a little tone, “you’re here, texting your best friend.” 

“So?” You bring the pad of your finger to your lip. “You’re here too and you’re on a date. Are you bored?” 

He pauses for a moment, huffing out a laugh before shaking his head. 

“You’re avoiding the question, sweetheart.” 

“And you’re being a bad date, Iwaizumi.” 

He takes another step forward and gently takes the same stand of hair Ren just had between his fingers. His touch feels entirely different though. 

“Who says I’m on a date? And don’t call me that.” 

You huff, pushing his hand out of your hair with your own and turning to face him. He drops his hand with a smirk. 

“Oh, I don’t know. The fact that you’re in a fancy restaurant with a woman who apparently steals food off your plate and laughs at everything you say?” 

He tilts his head. 

“You jealous?” 

“Fuck no.” 

“You are.” 

“No.”

He takes yet another step forward, the space between you shortening with every step he takes. 

“No? You’re so jealous you didn’t even notice who I came with.” 

“Why the fuck would I notice?” 

“Such a brat.” He laughs, shaking his head. 

He brings his hand up slowly, as if telegraphing and making you aware that he’s going to make contact with you. Always giving you a chance, an out, if you want it. 

But you stay rooted in place, eyes on him. His hand gets closer, his thumb reaching the corner of your mouth as if to fix your lipgloss. His touch is gentle, just like with the hair. 

“I’m going to go back out there-“

“Why—“

“Let me finish, sweetheart.” 

His tone is not harsh, not rude, but a little demanding and he knows for a fact you will listen. 

“I’m going to go back out there. On your way to your boring date, you will look down at my table and see who I’m eating with. Then you’re going to sit your pretty ass down and keep acting up. See what happens.” 

“Acting up?” 

He exhales, taking a step back. 

“If you’re truly into him, tell me and I’ll leave you alone. But if you’re not, you will continue your cute little act and see what I mean.” 

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You want to argue, to refute, to tell him you’re actually into Ren and that you don’t know what he means by “little act” but he knows you too well. You close your mouth and he smirks, turning to walk out to his “not date”.

Before he leaves, he turns one last time and says-

“See you later.”

Fuck. 

You delete the message and ignore your best friend’s messages asking where you are, if you’re alive, if she needs to come kill Iwaizumi, and leave the bathroom. Your eyes dart to his table immediately and you notice what he meant, who he’s dining with.

It’s his cousin from the Philippines, Isa. You’ve never met, but you’ve said hi once or twice through their facetime calls. 

Well, shit. 

You walk quickly to your table, smiling at Ren, who smiles back politely. 

“I’m sorry, my friend called and needed someone to talk to.” 

“No worries, hope everything is alright.” 

“Yes, she’s fine, thank you.”

He takes a sip of wine, nodding. You do the same, not knowing what to say. 

“I don’t think you’re into me.”

You almost choke on your wine. 

“W-what?” You stammer out.

“That’s okay,” he laughs, “I just noticed you’ve been staring at the table behind me quite a lot. You know them?” 

You deflate a little, defeated and very embarrassed.

“Yeah… he’s my ex.” 

“Oof. Since when?” 

“Couple months.”

He nods in what seems to be understanding. 

“Bad break up?” 

“It was kind of mutual.” 

“Is he on a date?” 

“I thought so, but it turns out it was his cousin.” 

He sucks through his teeth. 

“I’m so sorry, Ren. I was actually having a good time until he arrived. It’s just my first date since the breakup and I was not expecting to see him. Like, at all.” 

Ren nods.

“Don’t worry. I was actually thinking that you’re pretty hot but we might be better off as friends.” 

You laugh. 

“That's just a thing people say, no?” 

He laughs too. 

“Yes, but I truly mean it. Your personality reminds me a little of my sister so that’s a big no in dating for me.” 

It’s your turn to cringe. 

“Yeah… that’s not great.”

“Yep. So how about we finish our dinner as friends, without worrying about impressing each other and then you can go jump your ex’s bones.” 

“No!” You laugh. “I don’t want to do that.”

He stares blankly at you. “As your new friend, I can tell you that you’re full of shit.” 

You close your eyes. 

“Is it that noticeable?” 

“Uh, would you feel better if I said no?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then no. You’re good.” 

“Thanks, Ren. You’re a good new friend.” 

Now you’re actually enjoying dinner and your glasses of wine but you feel Iwaizumi’s gaze on you the entire time. You sneak a couple of glances too, and now that you know that the person across from him is actually Isa, you feel insanely better. 

You shouldn't.

Ren excuses himself to go to the bathroom and you take the chance to check your phone, texting your best friend everything is good and that you’ll call her later. Your heart skips a beat when a new notification pops down. 

Haji, it reads. You never changed the name or deleted his number. 

haji💛: he’s not your type 

You bite your lip

you: maybe my type has changed 

haji💛: you’re pushing it

you: i’m not doing anything. 

haji💛: you haven’t told me to leave you alone

you: no, i haven’t. 

haji💛: will you? 

You look up and he’s already looking at you. You shake your head. His eyes darken. He types something without even looking down at his phone, his eyes fixed on you.  

haji💛: knew it. 

you:  who’s the jealous one now? 

haji💛: never said i wasn’t

you: we’re broken up, remember? 

haji💛: trust me. i remember

Ren returns to the table with a smile, but it’s a little forced now. 

“Tall, dark and handsome is killing me with his mind.” 

“Ignore him.”

After a few minutes, you look down at the finished dessert. 

“That was so good. Thank you for bringing me here, I didn’t know this place.” 

“Oh, no problem. It's one of my favorites.”

“You mind if we ask for the check? I'm kind of worried for Nori.” 

“I took care of it.” 

You look up. 

“You what?” 

“I asked you out, so I took care of it.” 

“But we’re friends! you didn’t have to, Ren.” 

He waves you off. 

“We’ll split the next one.” 

You sigh but nod. 

“Alright. Actually, you have to meet my best friend. You two would get along.” 

“Sure. I’m in.” 

He stands up, taking the napkin from his lap and setting it neatly on his table. Then he stretches his hand out to you. 

“Let’s go, I’ll walk you to your car and you can get back to your newborn son.” 

You laugh, accept his hand, and get up easily. He drops your hand and pushes your chair in. You walk to the entrance beside him, but just before you step out, you look behind your shoulder to an already staring Iwaizumi. You mouth- 

“See you later.” 

Just like he did in the bathroom. 

You say goodnight to Ren as he walks you to your car, thanking him again and saying you’ll talk soon, actually looking forward to being his friend. 

You drive to your house, half-expecting a text from Iwaizumi, but there’s nothing, so you shrug it off and occupy your mind as soon as you get home.

You shower, do your night routine and cuddle next to Nori on the couch, putting on the tv show you’re halfway in. You text your best friend that you’ll call her tomorrow. She whines and argues, but gives up after you send her a selfie to assure her you’re fine. 

Twenty minutes later, a knock on your door snaps you out of the trance the tv show has put you in and you stand with a sleeping Nori in your arms. You open the door. 

Hajime is standing there with a frown on his face, it softens a little when he sees Nori, but then it snaps back into place. 

“Is he here?” 

“Who?” 

“The blond fucker. Is he here?” 

“No.” 

“Good.”

“Good? You come to my door in the middle of the night, ask me that and just reply ‘good’?” 

“Yes. What else do you want me to say?” 

“God, Hajime! Literally anything else.” 

Nori’s ears shift in his sleep, and you curse slightly, walking back to your couch and setting him there gently. You walk back to where Hajime still stands, hands in his pockets and a slight furrow between his brows. 

“What do you want me to say?” He says lowly, eyes hard as he looks at you. “That I wanted to walk up to your table and interrupt your date? That I hated every second of it? From the moment I first heard your laugh to the moment I saw you leave with him. I fucking hated it. And I have no right to, I know.” 

You’re speechless, but he’s not done. 

“I had to come. I had to know if he came over, if you’ve moved on. If you’re happy.” 

That triggers you. 

“You had to come?” 

He flinches at your tone, but doesn’t answer, letting you continue. 

“That’s the first date I’ve been on since we broke up! Of course I'm not happy! Are you?” 

“No.” 

“You were the one who suggested we break up!”

“You agreed!”

“Of course I agreed! Because you didn’t want to be with me! I wasn’t going to be in a relationship with someone who didn’t want me, Hajime!” 

You feel your eyes tear up, you fight them. He takes a step forward. 

“Of course I wanted you! I still do! But you deserved better than me. Better than late nights, my long hours of work, my travel schedule with the team, all of it.” 

“Did I ever tell you I wanted anything different?” 

“No. But-“

“Then what the fuck?” 

“I thought it was for the best!” 

“Did you ever stop and think what I thought? I loved you! All through the late nights, the long hours of doing what you love, the travel schedule and the fact that you came back to me and told me everything. Did I ever complain? I have loved you since high school, Hajime. Why would I ever stop?!”

Your chest heaves up and down as you finish your confession, your breathing is ragged, your eyes let escape the tear you’ve been trying so hard not to let go. But you can’t help it, any of it. Part of you is glad for this liberation. Hajime takes another step forward. 

“You love me?” 

“You’re such an idiot.”

He takes another step forward, stepping inside your home with a tentative step. 

“And you’re a brat.” 

He steps in fully, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. 

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Please. Say it again.” 

His eyes shut as he closes the space between you, setting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, breathing in his cologne, taking in the familiarity of his touch, it’s comforting but at the same time it heats you up inside. 

“I love you, Hajime.”

He exhales shakily. 

“God. I love you. Always have, always will.”

He finishes his sentence and proves his point by taking your face between his hands and slamming his lips to yours. You bring your hands to his forearms immediately, kissing back with the same urgency but needing the touch to ground you. To assure you this is real and not a figment of your imagination.

He sighs into the touch, into the kiss the moment you return it. You squeeze his forearms, then move your hands to the back of his neck, he moves his to your waist. 

The kiss turns from urgent to borderline desperate. Hajime turns you around and makes your back hit the door, you arch to reach him, his hands slide down, cupping your ass.

You groan in unison, all because you missed all of this so much. The teasing, the tension, the touching and kissing, but still, it’s not enough for either of you. 

You tug the small hairs at his nape, knowing his weak spots more than you do yours. He groans and it’s heavenly, a sound you’ve missed too much. He uses his strength to bring your legs smoothly around his hips, like you weigh close to nothing. He uses the moment to catch his breath. 

“Fuck. Missed this. Missed you.” He breathes out, his voice is rough, low and aroused. 

“Fuck.” You echo, leaning down and kissing him again. He hums and walks, still carrying you, through the living room and into your bedroom. He knows the steps by heart.

He sets you down gently on your feet, close to the bed, and takes a slight step back, just enough that the kiss is interrupted but you’re still close. You can’t help but whine. You’re desperate. It’s been way too long and now that you've had a taste again, you can’t help but want more. 

You crane your neck and take a step forward, eager to resume, but Hajime grabs both your cheeks with one hand gently. 

“You think you deserve it?” 

You open your eyes to find him looking down at you with a smirk. You nod. He mocks it, nodding too, but with a fake pout. 

“Aww, you think so? Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me why you think you deserve it.”

Another desperate whine escapes you, you pout and it’s exaggerated by Hajime’s hand still squeezing your cheeks together. He huffs a laugh and releases you. 

“Stop teasing, Hajime.” 

He tilts his head. 

“Teasing? I’m just asking a question. Teasing is what you did back at the restaurant, didn’t you? You wanted to make me jealous, right?” 

You shake your head, but your uneven breathing and flushing neck betray you as he takes a step forward, taking his hand and placing it on your jaw, angling your face higher and bringing it closer to his. 

“You’re a brat.” 

Your eyes flutter shut and you feel your brain turning into mush from the closeness, the teasing, the dominance and how his perfume is making you dizzy with need. 

“‘M not, Haji,” 

“Aww baby, back to Haji is it?” 

He leans back in and teases you by brushing his lips against yours making you burn all over. He lets go of you and takes a step back. Your eyes widen. 

“You want a kiss, baby?” 

You nod. 

“Admit it, then. Admit that the moment you saw me you were more focused on getting my attention than you were on your date.”

You nod because of course you were. 

“Use your words.” 

“Fuck you. Yes. I admit it.”

He smiles fakely sweet and it’s almost predatory. His eyes turn hard, his steps towards you are tentative, like you’re the prey he’s been stalking all night to catch. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“Hajim—”

He cuts you off by smashing his lips into yours, right hand landing gently on your throat while the other grabbing your ass so hard you moan, your back arching into him. It’s heaven, hell and everything in between.

You’ve missed this so much you’ve been wet since that moment back at the restaurant bathroom. 

He takes advantage of your moan and slips his tongue easily into you, groaning as you let him in so easily, like you’ve always done. Then he surprises you by pushing you to the bed, not aggressively because he would never be, not unless you ask him. 

You sit back on your elbows quickly, not wanting to get your eyes off him ever again. He smirks as he looks down to you.

You check him out, biting your lip at the unmissable bulge straining his black pants. You look back to him and his pupils are blown wide, more proof of his arousal. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Take me out.” 

You nod eagerly, pushing yourself to sit on your knees at the edge of the bed where you’re now face to face with his button and zipper. Your hands come up to them, eager to see, to taste, to have him close. You look up at him through your eyelashes and notice his breathing has turned harder. Good. 

His hand comes up to your face slowly, reaching your cheek with his thumb darting out to trace your bottom lip gently. His touch and the way he’s looking at you, they’re almost reverent. You blush at the attention. 

You continue with your task, fingers working quickly with the button and the zipper, tugging down the pants to reveal a pair of tight black briefs that always made your mouth water. The way they sculpt his strong tan legs and his perfectly round ass. 

Your hands go to the waistband, but you don’t pull them down yet, instead leaning forward and pressing your lips to the hard dick print. His hand caresses your hair, pushing it back slowly. Your pecks turn to lingering kisses all over. His breath catches and his touches become a little more pressing on your head. 

“So good.” He breathes out. 

That sets you off and you push his briefs down. His cock is as big and beautiful as always, standing proudly. You sit taller on your knees, hands shifting eagerly to get his shirt off. He gets the message and helps you.

Your nails rake softly through the rigid plane of his abdomen. 

“Off, sweetheart. Let me see you.” 

You nod, sitting back and taking off your skirt slowly, his eyes follow every movement, not wanting to miss a thing. Your blouse is next, you throw it to the side without a second thought. 

“Help me?” You pout slightly. 

He huffs, but leans down, reaching back to the clasp of your bra, his olive eyes moving quickly from your eyes to your lips, and down to your breasts as the bra falls off. 

Both of you move naturally, your thoughts and bodies attuned to one another. He brings both legs up beside you hovering on top of you as you slide further up the bed so you’re both comfortable. His hands trace your breasts slightly, making you shiver as they continue their path down. 

He leans down and finds your right breast, giving it a soft kiss before latching onto it completely. Your back arches and he takes advantage of it and removes your panties in the same movement.

His hand finds you immediately, he separates from your breast with a pop and groans. 

“You’re soaked.” 

You nod. “Mhm. Have been since I saw you.”

His fingers are torture as they slow down, but it feels good anyway because they’re his hands. He teases your clit, circling once. 

“Oh yeah? You sat there with your pretty outfit on your date all while you were this wet for me?” 

You nod, swallowing back a moan as he circles once more. 

“Poor guy never stood a chance, huh.” 

“No, no.” You shake your head quickly. “Please, Haji.” 

“Please what, baby?” 

You writhe, hips moving as you search for his touch, but he keeps pulling his hand back as you get closer. 

“Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

“Touch me, please.” 

“So polite. Good girl.” 

His thumb is mercy as he resumes touching you, he knows you too well- the pace you like, the spots that make you moan, the ones that make you whine- he remembers.

He teases your entrance with one finger as the other one stays on your clit. He does this for a few seconds until he slips it in slowly. 

You moan, Hajime groans as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. 

“Fuck, Haji.” 

He leans down and sucks your left breast, tongue darting out to your nipple. The dual stimulation feels too good, your brain turns to mush as your moans turn louder, higher. 

“That feel good, baby?” 

You nod, eyes closing. 

“Eyes on me.”

The demanding tone always does it for you, so you obey, eyes opening to find him looking down at you. 

“Beautiful.” 

He slips in another finger quickly and it feels even better than one. You feel the first orgasm of the night creeping in and it makes your whining turn desperate, which Hajime of course, notices. He kisses a trail up your neck to find your earlobe, so warm as he says—

“You close? Let go, baby. I got you” 

That does it. You close your eyes as the pleasure erupts. You feel it from the top of your head to the tip of your toes, the shaking that makes you feel so good. Hajime groans as he feels you arch your back, his fingers never stopping but slowing down, helping you ride it out. 

You open your eyes as you feel Hajime’s fingers leave you, ready to whine at the feeling of being empty. But all that flies out the window when you see him bring his fingers to his mouth, sucking you off of himself. 

He moans slightly, smiling as he brings his fingers out. 

“So good. Wanna taste?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer, he leans down and kisses you roughly, tongues dancing with each other as he makes you taste yourself in his mouth. You moan in sync. Your hands begin to wander all over his body. They go from the back of his neck to his broad shoulders, down his back and over his abs, reaching down to his happy trail and finally until you find he’s still hard. 

He groans as your fingers close around him. Your thumb circles over the tip slowly, teasing, he has to break the kiss to take a deep breath, which comes out uneven and shaky as you repeat the motion.

“Let me suck you, Haji.” You say, to which he looks into your eyes and nods. 

You give him a soft kiss and bring your hands up to his chest to switch positions. He follows the movement and lays down, not breaking the kiss. 

You’re now straddling him, kissing down the length of his neck, which he even cranes back to give you more access. You continue the path down his chest, his abs, the happy trail you’ve always loved and when you finally reach his cock, it twitches at attention. 

You smile, looking up at him. His eyes are closed shut, directed at the ceiling. You give his tip a peck before saying—

“Eyes on me, Hajime.”

He obeys, eyes opening, wide pupils looking down at you, you give him a kiss as thanks before you take him in properly, deeply, rolling your tongue around the tip and further down as you do.

The whines he lets out are music to your ears and you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each one. 

Your eyes flutter as you take him in deeper. It’s been a while and Hajime is so big that it feels like you need to get used to it again. 

When you’re ready, you bob your head up and down, using your tongue to give him the dual stimulation you know he loves. His right hand comes up to your hair, picking it up into a makeshift ponytail as he holds you, not forcing you. You lean back, mouth popping as you break contact for a moment. 

“Fuck my throat.” 

He looks down at you, panting. 

“You sure? It’s been a while.” 

You roll your eyes.

“I don’t care.”

“Brat.” 

He pushes your head down in a swift movement and you choke for a moment as you feel him at the back of your throat. You love it. He pauses, letting you get used to it.

You tap his thigh to signal you’re okay and he starts slow, thrusting his hips, his cock up and down. The sound is filthy–wet sounds echoing in your room. 

“Oh fuck. So good, sweetheart. Missed fucking your mouth.”

You moan and roll your eyes at both the dirty words and the speeding up. You let him use you. You like it, being out of your own head and letting the only thoughts in your head be Hajime, Hajime, Hajime. You love placing your trust into the man you love because you know he would never hurt you. 

“I’m so close. Just a little more” He groans out before his thrusts become a little more uncontrolled, his moans a little more like whines as he gets close. You feel his thighs tense under your hands and you know he’s about to come. 

“Fuck!” 

His movement stops, hips up and his hand keeps you there as he comes, so much it fills your mouth. You swallow and he lets go, slowly taking his cock out as you close your eyes and take a gasping breath. You steady your breathing, squeezing his thighs until you open your eyes, looking up at him, smiling softly. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

He says, taking your hand from his thigh and tugging you softly to him. You let him help you up as you follow. When you reach him, he kisses you softly, smiling into it as you kiss back. 

The kiss is sweet, hands gently caressing each other as you both come down from the high. You sigh into it, feeling his strong hands feel you up. It’s a minute before you both reach back for air.

“Give me five minutes and I’m ready to go again.”

You laugh, setting your forehead on his chest. 

“We’ve got time, Haji.”

The doctor merely stared at him through those stupid wire-rimmed vanity glasses. At least, Lucanis assumed they were vanity glasses. They were violet and mirrored, and it disturbed him that he could see his own reflection in them while the man's own eyes were furtive and hazy behind the lenses.

"Give me. More."

Lucanis sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. That it hurt? That I hated it? Hated her?"

"Did you?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. She did what she had to do, and it was a long time ago." He stared down at his hands. "What does it matter, anyway? Children hate things the way they love things. It's like the sun going behind the clouds."

"Smells like. Lies. And excuses."

"It's not an excuse," he snapped. "It's just… there are things I don't remember."

"You don't. WANT. To remember."

"I don't want to, and I can't." Something hot welled up in him, threatening to spill out. "That shit I was on fucks with your mind. You know that."

The other man said nothing.

"You know that," he repeated. Even to his own ears, his voice had a note of desperation.

He felt helpless. He didn't know what he was doing, had no frame of reference for how to move through this. Sometimes — most of the time — he thought the therapy was doing no good at all, or even making him worse.

"Isn't our time almost up?" There was no clock in the room, but it felt like he had been lying on this couch for hours.

"We have time."

"What if I just sit here and stare at the walls?" Lucanis asked. "Wait out the timer. What then?"

The doctor shrugged and regarded him with those unreadable eyes. "The less you talk. The longer. You stay here."

Fuuuuuuck. Lucanis ran a hand through his hair. His fingers were trembling; he curled them into a fist and pressed it into the cushion of the couch to still them.

He was never getting out.

⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸

Slumped against the high arm of the couch, Lucanis chewed his lower lip. He hated the silence, the constant exhortations to feel something. To do something. What was he supposed to do when he was locked up like this?

"You are. Unsettled."

Lucanis shrugged and studied the carpet. "I can't get hold of my grandmother. She's not answering the phone."

There was no reply. The silence made Lucanis itch. He could feel the doctor's eyes on him.

"My cousin supposedly visits every week but he… if I could leave, I'd go myself and check on her."

"You don't. Trust him."

"He's family."

It wasn't a lie. Illario was family. Almost like a brother. There was no one he trusted more. All of which somehow didn't quite add up to yes, I trust him. "I'm just starting to worry."

"About. What?"

"She's old. Anything could have happened. A fall. Her heart." He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. "Maybe she's just ignoring my calls. Maybe Illario said something."

"Said. What?"

His throat tightened, an aching cramp. He swallowed past it. "Maybe he told her what I am."

"What. Are you?"

Lucanis's upper lip curled into a snarl and he looked up to meet the therapist's gaze. "A user. A fucking junkie."

He didn't really expect the other man to respond. He never said much when Lucanis was wallowing like this, just watched him the way you might watch someone knock over their cup of coffee. Like he was just waiting for it to be over, to see how big a mess it would make.

"She would be disgusted." The idea made him feel bruised and savage. "She should be. I'm disgusted with myself. I let it happen. I kept letting it happen. It was just… so easy."

Easy was not really the right word for it. None of it had been easy. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes to quell the ache that had lodged there. "I should have left the party. I should have seen what was going on."

He remembered that night only in pieces. Illario had wheedled him into going. Said he needed help on a job but then abandoned him for a pretty face before they'd even finished their first glass of wine. He remembered music and heat and the smell of too many bodies in too little space. Seeking to escape the crowd, he'd found an empty parlor.

Or so he'd thought. Things got fuzzy around that point. He just remembered looking up and realizing he was not alone.

"She was there."

"Zara." The doctor spoke the name in a low rumbling growl.

Lucanis nodded absently. "I felt strange. I think… someone must have put something in my drink. There's no way I would have let her do that to me otherwise. Let her put a needle into my arm, and…"

He didn't remember the moment the drug hit his veins, only the aftermath. It was like drowning, like watching the waves close over him as he was pulled down into the enveloping dark.

"It was quiet inside my head. I could just… be. Think nothing. Feel nothing."

His eyes slid shut. The worst moment of his life had felt, paradoxically, like the best. He shifted on the couch as a craving hit him, crawling up from the depths to card its fulsome fingers through his mind. He counted breaths until it passed.

"I woke up the next day and everything I'd forgotten was there. All my faults. All my losses. All my failures. Everything, screaming even louder than before. Squeezing me harder. So hard it crushed me."

He pulled in a slow, shaking breath as if to remember that he still could. Then he continued in a voice so soft he might have been speaking only to himself.

"So I went back."

The doctor's nostrils flared. "Relief. And recrimination."

"Mostly the latter," Lucanis said in a dull voice. "I don't deserve relief."

His limbs felt heavy with the weight of it, as if he were trying to walk underwater. "It's my fault. Caterina has already lost most of her family. She doesn't deserve this, too."

He put his face in his hands. He wasn't sure he could bear to have her see him this way. "I took her grandson and gave her back a fucking addict."

I'm not this, he thought. I cannot be this.

⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸

"I had a dream." Lucanis said, staring at the floor. "A nightmare."

The therapist leaned forward, tilting his head like an eager bird. "Tell me."

"It was nothing."

"Tell. Me."

With a sigh, Lucanis leaned back on the couch. He didn't know why he'd bothered trying to deflect. Once the doctor got hold of something, he never let go. "I was at a funeral. Caterina's funeral."

"Ashes. And regret."

Guilt needled him, prickling up the back of his neck. "I was looking for Illario. He was supposed to help me carry the urn, but I couldn't find him. I finally gave up. Said I would do it myself. But when I lift my hands, they're covered in blood."

He flexed his fingers, rubbing them against the fabric of his trousers as his pulse began to skitter. "Everyone is looking at me. They know what I am. I try to leave but the door is locked. I can't get out."

Abruptly Lucanis pushed himself up from the couch, palms sweating. "I… I can't do this. You've got to let me out of here. I've got to check on Caterina."

"Tenderness and terror." The doctor's tone was low, the reverent murmur of one spellbound.

"I said let me out!"

"I don't. Keep you here."

"Then who?" he shouted. "Who do I talk to? Do I have to sign a release? Post some kind of bail?"

"You are not. A prisoner."

"The fuck I'm not."

He looked down at his hands. They were shaking, and he half-expected to see them stained with red. A sickly plume of guilt began to spread through him. "Maybe she doesn't want to see me."

The doctor snarled. "Old, stale fear of disappointment."

"Fuck you."

The corners of Lucanis's eyes began to burn and he fought to blink the sensation away. He felt suddenly foolish standing here in front of the the other man, throwing the kind of tantrum he'd have been whipped for as a child.

He drew in a long, shuddering breath and then slowly sat back down.

⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸---⫷⫸

Lucanis paced in front of the couch, too agitated to sit. The therapist merely watched, head turning right and left to follow his restless movement.

"I called Illario. I thought he could tell me where Caterina is. Whether she's all right."

He remembered staring at the screen and listening to the phone ring and ring. It had rung so long he'd nearly hung up.

"Finally someone picked up." He dragged his palm down the side of his face, scraping his nails at the roots of his beard. A woman's voice. One he knew. "It was Zara."

The therapist's head snapped up and the violet mirror of his glasses caught the light.

"She answered his phone!" Lucanis heard his own voice rising. "Why does she have his phone?"

Nausea twisted his gut and he stopped pacing to slump against the arm of the couch. "At first I thought maybe she had come after him, too."

But that wasn't it. He knew, if he allowed himself to. Because of the word.

He had yelled at her over the phone. Asked all the questions he was asking now. Why? How? She'd laughed and taunted him in that slow, syrup-sweet voice. Then he'd heard her volume change as she turned from the phone, speaking over her shoulder in words that were mostly muffled.

There must have been someone else in the room, then. Someone she called amatus.

His jaw ached from clenching. He drove his fists against his thighs as he struggled to keep it together, to keep it in, keep his head above water as a flood of revelation threatened to tear him apart.

The party. Something in his drink. The woman waiting. The needle in his arm.

"Illario, you idiot." His voice broke on the last word.

"Jagged edges." The doctor's gaze locked onto him. "Hurt with every breath."

A groan escaped him though he strove to stifle it. "I can't," he whispered. "I can't."

"He. Put. You. Here."

"What am I going to do?"

Pain made his voice hoarse, a stifled scream that ravaged his throat. He'd rather that Illario had stuck a knife into him. Rather be dead than simply removed like this, to have his family severed from him while he was still alive to see it happen.

Again.

"What am I going to do?" he repeated, lips barely moving. He didn't know. Except that he was going to find Illario, and then he was going to take everything from him. Everything.

He rose from where he'd rested against the arm of the couch. "I can't stay here. I've got go and find Illario."

"I told you. I don't keep you here."

"Then—"

"You. Keep yourself here."

He stared at the doctor and violet eyes stared back. He saw himself in them, his grimace reflected, reversed.

Everyone knew from the way you looked at him, the way you felt. You couldn’t hide it from anyone on set except the person you quite grown fond of and had feelings for. All the other cast members pushed you to tell him. Telling you that it would make you feel better but you didn’t want to lose, someone as wonderful as Jeffrey. 

“ It’s not going to make it any easier if you keep looking at him like that” a voice inturrupted your thoughts turning your head to meet Steven who stood next to you. He was a close friend of yours and someone you trusted. A lot. 

“ I wasn’t” you liked averting your eyes from him. He snorted shaking his head. 

You were part of The Walking Dead cast, Katherine Rhodes. One of the Saviors and Negan’s love interest. You were there with Negan since the beginning, knowing his wife. 

“ You should talk to him before you leave”  Steven said, patting your shoulder as he walked away. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Jeffrey, everything became brighter when he walked into your life. He made you laugh and smile like no one has ever done before. 

He adores you. 

Danai and Lauren walked over bringing over a bottle of water for you as you continued to watch Jeffrey talk to Norman. He laughed at something Norman had said. What a beautiful sound. 

 “ you got it so bad for him” Lauren nudged you as she watched you. “ I know” sighing, you took a drank of your water. Danai pulled you into a hug.

“Just talk to him, he’s a big teddy bear. He will understand and listen” 

You hadn’t noticed that Jeffrey walked over.

“ Hello ladies, what are you chit chatting about?” His smiled pulled into that dimple smile you love. 

“ Oh nothing, but Y/N has something to talk to you about” you sent a glare Lauren’s way, but both her and Danai shot you looks to talk to Jeffrey. 

Looking down at the ground your face going red as you tried to figure out how tell Jeffrey how you felt.

“ is everything alright, Y/N?” He put his hand on your shoulder causing a shiver to go down your spine. You nodded still keeping your head down. Your stomach was in knots and your palms became sweaty. 

“ You look like you’ve seen a ghost” He frowned, putting a finger under your chin lifting your head up to meet his gaze. Your eyes locked with his. 

“ It’s nothing” you shook your head turning away from him, ready to leave. You turned your back to him feeling words stuck in your throat. 

“ Talk to me” he tried to get you to turn around and look at him. He really does care about you. 

“ I can’t…” you mumbled. 

“ You’re making me worried”

You closed your eyes taking a deep breathes spilling the words out.

“ I like you a lot. More than a friend. I have feelings for you and it’s really hard to be your friend” 

He stood and stretched in an attempt to clear his head, and as he did so he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. “Hey, Lo. You doing alright?” It was Virgil, still in his pajamas, purple hair mussed from sleep.  

“Virgil, good morning. I’m fine, thank you,” he replied as he sat back down. “Did you sleep well?” Virgil nodded in response and sat on the floor, legs crossed and back against the couch. Logan couldn’t help but smile at his best friend and set his book down on the coffee table.

“Hey L, did you make coffee yet? I’m still sleepy and some caffeine would be great.” Virgil ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Logan expectantly. The logical side felt an unexpected tightening in his chest. He ignored it and said “I haven’t yet, but I can go ahead and start it now. Is anyone else awake?”

“Yeah, Dee should be heading down soon, and I heard Patton singing with Roman in his room so they’ll probably be down in a little bit too. Thanks, L, you’re the best.” Virgil gave Logan an easy smile and there it was again. That pang in his chest. Shoving the feelings aside, he muttered a “No problem” at Virgil and headed into the kitchen to make coffee.

The routine of the morning helped a little: Logan always made the coffee in the morning. The others preferred it when he made it, for some reason, and Logan was happy to oblige. He made just enough for the three of them who liked coffee, as not to waste any. Logan leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath. What was that pattern I always tell Virgil? In for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight…

He repeated this to himself until he felt steadier, then busied himself with other tasks he didn’t usually do. Water on the stove to boil for Roman and Patton’s morning tea, setting the table, taking out three coffee mugs from the cabinet. It was something concrete and ordered for him to focus on. Logic was what he was best at, after all.

He heard more footsteps and talking coming from the living room. He went to stand in the doorway and looked on. Virgil was now on the couch, head in Dee’s lap. Roman was telling a story from his time in the dreamscape and Patton was watching him with a soft, fond look that he never gave anyone else. Another feeling he didn’t have a name for made his heart ache. Loneliness? Longing? Perhaps even jealousy? No, that was impossible. What reason could he possibly have to be jealous? Just because the others found love and he didn’t? Just because he felt like the odd one out? Just because Virgil and Dee were having a low conversation and Dee said something that made Virgil laugh and they kissed and Logan wanted to—

“Hey Lo, good morning!” Patton’s cheery voice pulled Logan from his whirlwind of thoughts.

Logan schooled his expression into something neutral and nodded. “Good morning, Patton. I went ahead and put the kettle on for you and Roman, and the coffee is ready now."

“Thanks, Lolo, you’re the best!” Patton headed into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to give Logan a hug that he barely managed to return. Roman followed right after, leaving Virgil and Deceit to their conversation on the couch.

Logan cleared his throat and the two sides looked up at him. “My, my, Logan, don’t you look ravishing this morning?” Dee said, mismatched eyes sparkling with mischief. A flicker of something like hope rose up in Logan’s chest but a sharp voice echoed in his head, shoving that feeling back down. “He’s just in a good mood because Virgil is with him. That’s all. He’s never commented on your appearance before. It doesn’t mean anything that he’s saying something about it now.”

“I- ah, thank you. I don’t know if you heard me but the coffee is ready.” Logan turned, thoughts racing, and went back into the kitchen before anyone could say anything else. He was being ridiculous. Surely he was imagining things, and this was just a one-time occurrence, and everything would go back to normal soon. Right?

***

The day did not get any easier by any means. Roman and Patton disappeared off into the dreamscape not long after breakfast, leaving Logan alone with Virgil and Deceit. He tried to excuse himself but Virgil coaxed him into staying downstairs with them and watching documentaries. 

He only stayed because Virgil said it was a documentary about space. Definitely not because Virgil was pouting, and definitely not because that look in Virgil’s eyes made it impossible to say no.

Which is how Logan ended up sandwiched between his two best friends on the couch, trying and failing to focus on the tv and not on Deceit’s thigh pressing into his, and Virgil’s hand inching slowly closer towards his own. Logan felt like he couldn’t breathe. He wanted desperately to hope that their actions meant what he thought they did, to ask if it were possible to be in a relationship with two people at once and could they please try it, but that sharp, cold voice in his head shut it down again. “In the past, neither have expressed affection for me. Therefore it would not make sense that their feelings about me would change now.”

The documentary finally finished and Logan took the opportunity to try and leave. “Thank you for inviting me to watch this with you. Now if you'll please excuse me, I really should be going.”

Virgil looked up at him, frowning. He shot a glance at Dee before turning his gaze back to Logan. “Oh, um. Are you sure, we can watch another-”

Logan shook his head adamantly, already heading towards the stairs. “No, thank you.” He was gone before Virgil or Dee could say anything else.

***

Logan spent the rest of the day in his room. He paced back and forth, hands alternating between running through his hair and fiddling with his tie. That had been a less than ideal situation. It left Logan feeling even more confused than before. Patton had come to ask if he wanted lunch, and he declined, claiming that he had too much work to do. He didn’t feel hungry anyways, though he knew he should eat something, at the very least for Thomas’ sake. Despite that knowledge, he couldn’t bring himself to go downstairs, to face Dee and Virgil.

He sat down at his desk and turned on his laptop. He wasn’t really able to focus on anything else but the problem at hand. Perhaps he could do some research on his earlier questions after all. Surely he couldn’t be the only one who had feelings for multiple people at the same time. At the very least, it was worth a try.

He wasn’t sure what to type at first. Maybe information on if it was possible to date more than one person at the same time? He took a deep breath and started taking meticulous notes on what he found.

He worked steadily and didn’t stop until he heard another knock at the door. He ignored it at first, but after a minute had passed another knock sounded. Logan sighed and stood, taking a moment to stretch before he went to open his door. “Patton, I told you I’m very busy, I’ll be-”

But it wasn’t Patton who was at the door this time. It was Dee, dressed not in his usual outfit but a white button-up shirt and a pale yellow skirt. Logan felt heat rise up to his cheeks and he turned away slightly. “Deceit. How can I help you?” 

Dee took a step forward. “May I come in?” Logan stepped back out of instinct and Dee was in his room before he knew it. He sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing out his skirt. 

“I believe we should talk.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. Logan closed the door and sat down at the desk, facing Dee. He closed his laptop and turned his notes over. He didn’t want to talk about what he’d been researching. He only hoped Dee hadn’t noticed.

“What would you like to discuss?” Logan asked. Dee didn’t answer right away. Then, in a voice that was gentle yet firm: “You’ve been lying a lot lately.”

The words struck Logan like a blow. He blinked, all train of thought derailing. “I- what? I’m not sure-”

“Don’t.” Dee held up a gloved hand. “You know I can tell, right? I just know when people are lying. Mostly I try to focus only on Thomas, but sometimes I just get worried about others enough to warrant checking on them. Roman. Patton. Virgil.” Dee scooted closer and rested a hand on Logan’s knee. “You.”

Logan opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. “Do you-” he started, but didn’t finish his thought. What was he supposed to say? He knew what he’d been lying about. He’d been lying to himself this whole time. He was jealous. He had feelings- romantic feelings- for both Dee and Virgil. But he’d been denying it. Or at least he’d been trying to. He gulped and looked down at Dee’s hand.

“I- Can you, I mean. Do you know the nature of said lies?” Logan couldn’t meet Dee’s gaze, though he felt Dee’s eyes on him. 

“Not exactly. All I know is that it’s been lies of omission and that it’s been mostly to yourself. But you lied to Patton earlier, when he came up to ask if you’d be joining us for lunch. I felt it.” Dee gently reached out to cup Logan’s face, guiding him up so Logan would look at him.

Dee’s mismatched eyes were full of concern. “Why didn’t you come down for lunch? Are you okay?” Logan shook his head, moving back and away from Dee’s touch. He didn’t see the hurt in Dee’s eyes when he did so.

“I was doing research and did not want to be pulled away from my work.” A truth. Dee’s gaze shifted from Logan to the desk behind him. Looked at the closed laptop, the papers beside it.

“If I ask what you were researching, are you going to tell me?” Logan didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure if he could answer. What was he supposed to say? “I’ve been researching and I found out I’m polyamorous? I have romantic feelings for not only you, but Virgil as well? I want nothing more than to be a part of your relationship with Virgil? That I love you both?”

Dee’s gaze shot back to Logan the moment he thought it. Logan bit his lip, his heart racing in his chest. “Dee, I-” 

But Dee turned and sank out. One moment he was there, eyes wide and intense, the next he was gone. Logan didn’t know what to do. He sat at his desk, staring at the space Dee had occupied only moments before. If Dee had heard the admission he’d thought in his head, the logical thing to do would be to tell Virgil. If Dee felt the same way, he would have said something instead of running off. Which meant that he didn’t. Something in Logan’s chest cracked, and his breath caught in his throat. 

A sob escaped him unbidden, and he covered his mouth, desperate to stop it. He wanted to force the feelings down again, but that first sob had been like a dam breaking inside of him. The tears flowed freely down his face, and he cried.

***

“Wait, he what?” Virgil’s voice was incredulous. Dee had run right to his boyfriend and told him everything. Virgil almost couldn’t believe it. What had Logan been thinking, keeping those thoughts to himself?

“But we- I mean, we’ve been flirting with him for months and he never-” Virgil shook his head. He didn’t know what to feel. Relief that his and Dee’s feelings were reciprocated? Happiness at the idea of dating Logan? Sadness that Logan had been lying to himself this whole time, for sure.

Dee sat next to Virgil, taking his hand. “I love Logan, you know I do. But we both know he can be a bit.. dense.” Virgil nodded, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“That’s true. Listen, we should really talk to him about this. And it has to be up to him, and at his pace. Whatever he wants to do, whatever he’s comfortable with. No matter what.”

“Of course, Virgil. Here,” he said as he stood, pulling Virgil up along with him. “Let’s go get our man.”  

They appeared outside Logan’s bedroom door. Dee raised his hand to knock when Virgil stopped him. He held a finger to his lips and shook his head. “Listen” he mouthed.

The sound was muffled, but it definitely sounded like crying. Logan was crying. Panic and worry flooded Virgil’s face and Dee didn’t hesitate a moment later as he opened the door. To hell with knocking, not when Logan needed them.

Logan was still at his desk, head in his hands. He looked up when he heard the door open and saw them there, his two best friends. He quickly wiped the tears away and shook his head. “Virgil, Dee, what are- I mean, I…” his voice trailed off. Dee and Virgil came in and were by his side before he had even finished speaking. Dee stroked his hair and Virgil grabbed a tissue from the box on the desk and handed it to him.

“Logan, hey, it’s okay. We’re here now, it’s alright. Just focus on your breathing, okay?” Virgil’s voice was soft and Logan nodded, taking deep breaths in order to try and calm himself enough to speak. 

He looked at Dee first, then Virgil. He wasn’t quite sure where to begin. Why were feelings so difficult? He hadn’t realized he said this aloud until he heard Dee chuckle softly and saw Virgil smirk. 

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy, is it?” Dee asked. He held out his hand to Logan, who tentatively took it. Virgil repeated the motion, and Logan took his hand as well. He gave them both a gentle squeeze before finally finding the courage to speak.

“It would seem that I have… feelings for the both of you. Romantic feelings.” 

Virgil grinned, and Dee’s eyes glinted with happiness. Logan blinked in surprise as they hugged him, and he hugged back.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that, L,” Virgil said as he gently pulled away from the hug to look at Logan. 

“I am too; it’s nice to finally hear you admit the truth after all these months.” Dee gave Logan a conspiratorial wink. Logan blushed. “I can and yet can’t believe it took you so long to realize Virgil and I have romantic feelings for you as well. We’ve been flirting with you for months now. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?” 

Logan scowled. “Apparently that’s true only when it comes to common sense or things steeped in general logic. Not emotions. But I will admit it seems I may have made a few logical fallacies.” 

He hesitated for a moment but decided to continue. “For example, earlier today when we were watching that documentary. And this morning, when you told me I-”

“Looked absolutely delicious? Because that’s true.” Dee leaned in and brushed his lips against Logan’s cheek. Virgil laughed at the look on Logan’s face and shook his head. “Actually, you said he looked ravishing, if you want to be technical about it,” Virgil said teasingly.

Dee shrugged. “Delicious, ravishing, tomato, solanum lycopersicum.” This made Logan laugh, and neither Virgil or Dee wanted him to stop. Logan’s laugh really was a delight to hear. 

“In all seriousness though, Logan. We do need to discuss some stuff, okay? Things like boundaries and how we want to go about doing this.” Logan tilted his head to the side quizzically. 

“What exactly are you saying?” 

Virgil looked at Dee, who nodded encouragingly. “I’m saying that Dee and I love you, and we want to be with you. But we also want you to be comfortable, so we’re going to do this on your terms.”

“Oh. What does that mean specifically?” Logan studied Virgil’s face intently.

“It means that if you want to start by just dating one of us, you can. Or if you don’t want to date at all right now, if you just want to think about it, that’s okay too. I, we, don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or rush into things and cause you to become overwhel-” Virgil was cut off by Logan pressing a soft kiss to his lips. When Logan moved back, Virgil was at a loss for words. Logan gave him a smile, his dimples showing, and Virgil thought he’d melt right there.

Dee cleared his throat. “Well, that was lovely to watch. However, don’t I get a turn? After all, it’s only polite to share.” Logan smirked and kissed Dee as well, just as softly and sweetly.

“I want to be with both of you. We can take things slow, but I love you both. I think we’ve all been waiting long enough.”

Virgil and Dee hugged Logan tightly, and Logan never felt happier than he did in that moment. He felt something in his chest, like his heart was a roaring fireplace. 

It was love.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this story! Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Tell me what you think! Comments add 10+ years to my lifespan. If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my taglist, please let me know by sending me an ask. You can find me on ao3 at Storytelling_Sparrow. Thank you so much for your continued support!