—chapter twenty-eight.

 ❛ you know i still care about you. ❜  

HE SAT FORWARD, ELBOWS ON HIS KNEES as his eyes stared into the fireplace. The fake flames inside jumped and danced, begging for his approval -- but no sound came. He just watched, stone-faced, and let the orange-red dance across his weary face.

Any wounds, small as they were, had been cleaned and bandaged at that point. He had been quiet for all of it and had only muttered a small 'thank you' when she left, promising tea.

Truthfully, Elodie had left only for her own sake. The tea kettle sat humming on its own as she leaned over the sink, trembling. She wasn't made for this -- not that night, not after everything, not when her hands burned at merely the thought of his face. And the news that he had brought...Grace was by every sense but biological his mother. A beloved one at that. She might not know what that really meant but she knew loss' bite stung more than any physical wound could. Especially with someone like Diego, who dealt with pain so stoically, who never knew how to solve his problems through words.

She sighed and turned the kettle off just before it could start squealing. Leaving him alone wouldn't help. Loss required the touch of another. If he could do it for her, she would have to be there for him, too.

"Hey," Elodie said quietly, reminding him of her presence reentering the living room. Two steaming mugs trembled in her hands but miraculously, not a drop spilled. One got handed off to Diego, who took it without raising the mug to his lips. The other was placed gently on the coffee table in front of them. 

"Diego?"

He did not look her way. Something had caught his attention and it remained face-forward, staring down the mantle with a twisted frown. "You remember when you bought this place? Wh-when I made fun of you for this fake fireplace?"

"Course." All too well.

He had frowned down at the artificial flames, watching them flicker and flutter under his watchful glare. Like he wanted them to mess up, just so he could swoop in and berate them more. 

"Why a fake fireplace? I mean, c'mon--" he had grinned down at her, lips just grazing the tip of her ear. "Someone like you deserves at least the real deal."

Elodie had batted him away with a frown. But it wasn't genuine. He had known that, because he knew her, all too fucking well.

"Don't be a dick. I think it's nice. It's like a metaphor, or something."

"A what? How?"

"Metaphor," she had huffed. "And, you know...something like when a marriage counsellor gets cheated on. Or, or, the milk man has a lactose allergy. You know?"

"Baby, I don't think that's what that means."

"Well, whatever it is, I--don't laugh at me! It's not funny!"

But it had been funny then. It was frivolous and ridiculous and hilariously fun to walk around a real house and mock things like fake fireplaces and tiny garages like those were things they had experience with. She had laughed so hard she almost cried in front of the real-estate agent with him -- and she hadn't cared one bit, because it was him. It never mattered with him.

Before, at least.

"Feels like so long ago." His head hung down low, leaving the flames to dance for no one but themselves. He sighed, "wow."

Elodie raised her hand and dropped it to his shoulder. She patted it awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Diego."

"It's all his fault. Or hers," he choked out. He laughed glumly. "Maybe both."

"Who's?"

He didn't pay her question any mind. "I swore, I'd never be back there. The day I left I promised him that I would never step a foot inside that house again. And I-I thought, maybe because he had cracked that things - things would be diff-different, but...now this. And it's always hi-him."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too," he gritted back. "I -- ghh -- I never wanted to see them again. Any of them." Diego paused, swirling his mug gently in his hands. "Or...no, I do, I just, I-I--"

"--it's okay. You don't have to explain yourself."

"I do. I just -- the words..."

Without thinking, she moved. Gently, her hands tugged on his own and freed the mug from them. Placing it next to her own, she turned back to grip tightly to his shaking fingers. 

"I understand, Diego," she said in a hushed tone. "Okay? You're okay. I...I get it."

Only then did he look up at her. His eyes were dry, but they ached, large pools of sorrow she wished she could wipe away for him. Diego was desperate for something and he searched for it in her own gaze frantically. Whether he found what he was looking for or not, his hands timidly squeezed back.

"Okay," he mumbled, watching her closely. 

Her thumbs brushed against his bruised knuckles, soothingly rubbing against the skin. "It'll be alright." Elodie tried to make herself sound like she believed that. "I know...I know it's hard to see that right now, but it...you're going to figure this out."

"How?"

"I don't know, but I know you can."

He scoffed gently. His hands withdrew a little. "Don't say that."

"What?"

"You don't have to butter me up, 'Lodie. I don't know what I'm doing and I especially don't with these -- these -- her killers."

"So you'll figure it out."

"How?!"

"I don't know," she huffed. It came out more frustrated than she meant it to be -- but unwittingly, he made her frustrated. And she wasn't so great at the whole comforting thing, even if she'd do her very best for his sake. "But you'll do it. Because that's who you are."

"Elodie, sto--"

"--an' I mean that." One hand pulled away; she pointed her index finger at him, poking angrily into his chest. "You are much too stubborn to give up just 'cause of a couple of assholes. And with this too. I know you. I know you're going to find a way to avenge her, because you'd never let someone you love...go for nothing."

Diego shied away from her sharp gaze. "This is different. These people are different."

"Different, how?"

"I don't know. But they knew who we were, and they were -- they could take us. Even with Luther an' whatever he's turned into."

She did not bother to ask what that meant. Chances were he wouldn't explain it anyways. She would chalk it up to one of his oddball siblings doing something that was even more strange than usual. The name 'Luther' didn't particularly stick out in her head, but it had to be one of them -- Diego wouldn't speak like that if he wasn't.

Elodie made a mental note to return back to Vanya's book. She had only ever skimmed the pages (and avoided reading it when she was with Diego, for his sake). But if their visits were going to happen again...maybe a history lesson would be necessary.

"I don't know what to do. I just wa-want them to pay."

"And you'll figure out how," she replied plainly. When he scoffed, she had to fight a smile -- not because of him, but because of the memories that one sound brought. "You're too stubborn not to."

"I...I dunno."

"If I know anything about you, it's that you're a dumbass who'll do anything for the people you love. Anything. Even if that means hurting yourself, which I would really rather you didn't do. That's a bravery few got, you know."

Diego looked at her again. His brows had furrowed and his eyes were sharper, curious as they listened to her stammered words.

"You're a good guy, Diego," she finished off. "Your mom knew that, and I still know that. Even after everything. You have your siblings, and...and, you know, worst comes to worst...you can call me and I'll come roast their asses alive for you. So you're not alone."

"Yeah?" the word crackled.

"Yeah. Absolutely."

Diego didn't smile. But his eyes softened a tad, and that was at least something. "Thanks. But...I'll pass on that offer."

"Really?"

"You know I work better alone."

"Right, so that's why you keep turning up all bruised and bloody?"

Elodie's words were in jest and the same tone as his had just been. Yet they made Diego freeze up. His grimace fell just past her right shoulder. "Look, I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"It was a joke, I'm sorry--"

"--I'll leave."

"No!" 

The single word was a command, a shout that echoed through the room and up the stairs were Ellis was supposed to be sound asleep. Her eyes snapped up, waiting to hear any hint of footsteps of someone stumbling around. When nothing came, she twisted back around to see him standing awkwardly to the side, jacket in his hand. He was ready to go, her heart pleaded, tell him you don't want him to go.

But why? her brain screamed back. Where will this go, and when will it stop? Will it burn just as badly again? Maybe he should go.

But he's hurt.

Hurt people do stupid things. You know this, you fucked up so much because of your pain.

This isn't like that.

Isn't it?

"I didn't mean you had to go," she said finally. The corners of her lips were forced up like two strings had attached themselves, pulling together a faux grin. "I was just joking."

"I get it. But you're right."

"Right? About what?"

"I shouldn't be here," Diego shot back. With one arm, he scooped his jacket up and managed to wriggle it around his body with moderate difficulty. "Don't need you caught up in this."

"Hold on, you cannot just come in here and then leave like this!"

"It's for your own safety."

Elodie huffed and crossed her arms taut against her chest. "Safety, really? Let me remind you about the whole 'roasting people alive bit' here!"

"Which you should not have to pull out."

"Whether I pull it out or not," she resisted the urge to make a dirty joke there, "I don't need you to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I have, all my fucking life!"

"You don't get it, Elodie."

"What don't I get, Diego? What don't I get?!"

"These people--" he gestured wildly, clenching his jaw at the pain the motion brought, "--these guys are not -- they're not normal people. They're not just idiots you hit off and forget about. They knew who we were, knew how to get in, how to take us all down. We were trained for this fucking thing and they didn't even break a sweat! And you're saying what, we should just go tag-team them like it's a joke?!"

"They clearly weren't that great," Elodie shrugged, like maybe it was just a joke, "I mean, you're here in front of me now."

"What's your point?"

She gestured vaguely towards him, "clearly you made it through, you can do it again."

"You aren't listening to what I'm saying," he growled.

"I am listening, but I'm saying--"

"--you're not understanding what I'm saying! Just listen!"

"No!" Elodie snapped back. Anger flared hot and dry inside her chest; she choked back the smoke, letting it simmer in her gut and wait out its time. "I'm not going to listen. You're doing exactly what you did before. You're coming here looking for one type of answer but I can't give it to you. And I'm not going to try and dish back what you want to hear, because it's not what you need to hear. And I -- and you don't get to push me away now that you don't like the results you're getting, okay asshole?!"

"This is for your own good."

"You know what's good for me?" She seethed. Her hands were clenched tightly by her sides, fists rippling with a glowing power that, had either of them noticed, would have been quite worrisome. Her chest began to burn worse. "You realising that I still care about you! And that you coming in here bleeding all over my floor and then leaving ten minutes later freaks me out! I don't know if I should expect you dead the next day sometimes because you push me away just like that! All the time! It's so fucking hard, Diego!"

He stumbled back at the outburst, eyes widened. For a moment, Elodie thought she had actually gotten through to him, but then his expression hardened again. "I'm trying to protect you from all this. That's all I've ever wanted."

"You don't have to protect me. And you know this, because you wouldn't have come here if you didn't know that. Because you are not stupid."

Her mind harkened back to their fights, years and years prior. The screaming and the way her arms used to fly around in the air like furious hornets when she was unable to get her point across. How he used to turn away and stare at the way, and she knew it was cause something had dug a little too deep into him, and he didn't want her to know. They could fight for hours and they would never get anywhere because neither of them wanted to admit the real reason they were upset. Why something had hurt them or vice versa.

How different things were. She used to cry when they fought; she stood stone faced then, staring him down like she knew a word of what she was saying. And he used to fight for the last word even if it didn't make any sense but she watched as he curled inward, bruised and battered from so many hits. She used to leave when things got too bad, fighting off bad memories of all the times she had lost to her father -- but those times only fueled her, standing tall across from him.

Elodie didn't leave, because she couldn't. If they were going to exist in the same universe at any point after that fight, they had to talk this out. And she had to make sure he knew that beneath it all, she still cared if he made it through. Or it would kill her, too.

"You have a family," he said, softer than he had their entire argument. "Your brother...doesn't need this. You don't need this...me, making you suffer caus'a my problems."

"So you can run off and die alone? Diego."

"I won't."

"I know what it's like to hurt," she said, grimacing at the sting, "and wanting nothing more but to make the person who hurt you pay. But you cannot do that alone."

"Who's gonna stop me?"

"Me! I--jeez, didn't you get my voicemail?"

"Voi-what voicemail?"

Blood pounded in her ears, roaring as she came to the thudding conclusion that she had messed up. "You...uh...didn't get my voicemail?"

"I don't have a phone," he frowned, scratching at his forearm. "I got rid of it a while back."

"What? When?"

"I don't know, a while back?"

Her face scrunched tighter. Frustration was the only thing keeping her going ,at that point, and even if it was childish and leaving her arguments just crumbs of a half-good though, she'd use it anyways. "Why wouldn't you tell me you did that? What if I had to contact you?"

"We weren't even on talking grounds when I did. What was I gonna do, march into Firebird's and let you know there's no way to contact me anymore? I'm not stupid enough to think that's a smart idea."

"You're not stupid," Elodie barked out, frowning. "Okay? And -- I don't know, I just...I don't know. I didn't think that out. But it wasn't like we haven't talked in all that time, you could have just...let me know."

Diego sighed. Maybe he already knew the argument was going to lead to another pointless fight. At least he'd be right, there. His free hand moved up to run a hand threw his hair, messing it up even more. She tried to ignore the funny feeling in her heart that came with it. "What did you say on it?"

Somehow, that question left her mind completely void of any words. At all. Nothing but static echoed from one ear to the other and she stared, blankly, at him waiting for something to come. 

What were words again?

"Elodie?"

"Yeah, uh...you know...just...uh...that we needed to talk. Cause we did, after...everything."

"About?"

She glanced away. Looked anywhere but him, darting across the faux flames dancing, the mantle glowing with all the pictures scattered across, mocking her. He used to sit up there, framed prettily next to her. She still had the stupid photo in her bedroom drawer -- even though it should have gone out with the trash aeons ago. 

"We need to talk properly," she said finally, blindly repeating the same thing spat before. "And...you know, we've never been good at that. But for both of our sakes, we have to. Sort out what we're doing here, what it means, and...all the stupid feelings attached to everything."

Diego shifted, lips twitching up at the corners. "Feelings?"

"Don't you dare laugh at me."

"I'm not."

"You want to," she pointed out, jabbing a hot finger his way. "And - and - you know, whatever we do about us--" if there even was an 'us' between them, "--we have to do so maturely, and properly, and...you know, realise that we didn't do things right the first time around. And you can't just come in here, back to me and I can't ignore that I still care about you." She shuffled her feet, tracing the swirls of the worn carpet below her. "We need to work this out. Even if it's just to say goodbye again, y'know?"

Elodie meant for that to come out chipper and light. It was supposed to be a joke, even if it was a terrible one. But her voice cracked halfway through the sentence and the goodbye rattled through her chest like a promise she knew she couldn't go through with. There was nothing behind her words but insecurity and a fiddly old feeling she hadn't addressed in a long, long time.

Not for the first time, Elodie wondered if her brother had been right.

"You're saying that like we're not capable of conversation."

She shot him a pained smile. "Diego, we just screamed at each other over nothing at all. I don't even think we got anywhere with that fight. Hell, I don't even remember why we started."

His head dipped, nodding slightly. "Sure. But...do we have to--"

"--I'm not going back to how it was before. I--you just left. We didn't even say goodbye, man."

"That's not fair."

"How so? You--" she paused, hearing the ever distinctive creak of the landing. 

Ellis.

Before Diego could interject again, or try to at least, Elodie pushed forward and slammed her hand against his mouth. He protested, but she held tight, pulling herself and his squirming limbs back and out of view of the stairs. Only barely did he comply when the wood started squeaking down and he realised what was happening.

"Stay here," she hissed, pushing him gently against the pantry door. "He can not know you're here."

He glared at her, shoving her hand from his mouth. "You're lucky I didn't lick it."

"Gross."

The footsteps came down swifter and closer and Elodie knew her time was up. She spun away from Diego, who was still grimacing angrily (like he had any reason to be upset? this was, after all, her home) and hurried out of the kitchen. It really wasn't that good of a cover considering her hands were empty, but at least the main issue would be out of sight.

And silent, too, if he had enough grace for that.

"Hey, bud," Elodie greeted. She faked a yawn and rolled her shoulders, "man, what time is it? I feel like I missed like, hours."

Ellis' eyes raked over her mussed appearance, lingering on her drooping eyes like they would spill any secrets. Rarely did the boy ever look out of place but by the way his hair flew all over the place and the wrinkles in his pajamas, it was clear he had been fast asleep. It took a lot to wake up the boy -- which meant she must have really, really messed up that time.

"It's late," he said finally. His voice was hoarse from disuse. "I - I heard voices. Was...were you talking to someone?"

Elodie shook her head violently. "Nope! Just me, my tea and -- I was practicing my Spanish for a little while, actually. You must have heard that. And...just that. Only that."

"Oh."

"I was just...you know how I get, translating. Makes me pissy as a blowfish. I didn't mean to wake you up."

Ellis scratched at his head, still looking bewildered and the slightest bit suspicious. "Did something come about your mom?"

"What? Oh. No. Nothing like that, just..." she fought hard not to glance back to where she knew Diego was. Her eyes focused just past her brother, digging into the clock tick-ticking away without a care. "Practicing. Badly. You know how it is."

"It's really late."

The clock echoed that same sentiment back; she glared at it, wishing it wasn't so eager to agree.

"I didn't realise the time," Elodie said lamely. "But I'm going to bed soon. Okay? I'm sorry for waking you up."

He shrugged. "It's okay. I was just worried."

The pure earnesty in the boy's wavering voice got to her. It wasn't ever easy to lie to him, but especially when he pulled out that card. And even if it was for his own good, well that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Still she carried on. "Don't worry, it's just me and my tea. I'll be heading up to bed in a few, okay? Just need to clean up."

"Good," was all he mumbled back. Ellis turned away from her, waving his hand back to her sleepily. "I love you."

"Love you too buddy. Sleep well."

She waited several seconds, listening to the floorboards creak and waiting for the familiar sound of his bed springs before even daring to move. Once certainty could be made that Ellis was in fact, back in bed (and probably fast asleep again, knowing him), Elodie turned back around and--

"--crap," she wheezed, clutching at her pounding heart. Diego was just a foot away from her, looming over silently waiting for her to turn around. "What was that for?"

He was smiling at her, genuinely that time. It was tired and sad but still him, teasing a cheeky humour she used to say she hated him for. "You're learning Spanish?"

"That is none of your business," was all she shot back, hiding her heated cheeks with a swoosh of billowy hair. "And definitely not connected to you, so don't get any ideas."

That was actually the truth. But Diego didn't seem to buy it as his smile grew wider and slyer. 

"Whatever you say," he grinned. 

She didn't offer him a response, just waved him off with her hand and left him standing in the tiny kitchen space. Her bones ached with a sudden heaviness and it lingered even as she sank into her couch, slumping against the mahogany cushions and wishing she could escape into them. The weight on her shoulders hadn't been so bad in a while, yet that night it felt like a thousand worlds rested on her, waiting for her to screw things up and send them careening into hell. 

"You okay?"

Elodie didn't look at him. She didn't have to, to know exactly how he was standing. He always chose a dramatic lean when he could, letting his weight be supported by the doorway. She could feel his eyes raking over her, just like always did. Trying to read her, trying to get more than he got so he could piece together the right answer like her mind was a problem to be solved.

She wondered if he was ever successful.

"I should be asking you that," she mumbled, hand over her eyes. "Speaking of, are--"

"--I'm okay. But you...?"

Elodie shrugged. Her hand fell off her face, leaving her staring up at the ceiling and its many carved stories. She could still remember teasing a much younger Ellis about the designs he never saw -- trying to tell him about the battles waged, the romances built and the hearts that broke in all the little squibbles he saw as random. She tried to trace back to the stories, but the ceiling didn't offer any that night.

"I just...I didn't expect this tonight. I thought I'd leave you a message and we'd like, meet up at a coffee shop and talk over things, sort things out like normal people. And I'm not mad at you for being here, but..."

"...it's weird."

"Yeah. And hard. Seeing you like this, all over again."

"I know." She heard him shuffling his feet against the carpet, an old habit she used to watch him perfect before. It used to be adorable. "I didn't want to come here."

Elodie sighed. "Then why?"

"I needed to talk. And...you're one of the only people I have that gets it. That knew about m-mom."

She still didn't look at him. The ceiling mocked her high above but she stood her ground, knowing one glance would wreck her entirely. "I'm sorry, Diego. Really. And...I didn't mean for things to play out like this, after what happened."

"It's fine. We both did it. I don't know why I thought this wouldn't happen."

"Don't say it like that," she said softly, "we are capable of talking without arguing. We just..."

"...yeah."

Opposites attracted, but that didn't mean they were meant to stick together forever. And for two people with horrible communication skills on two ends of a shitty spectrum -- one who never got any of his thoughts out right and the other spitting too much out without thinking -- disaster brewed easily.

Footsteps echoed softly against the living room carpet and soon, Diego came into view. His weight sank down next to her on the couch, jostling her just enough to lose her grip on the ceiling pattern. He mumbled the softest excuse of an apology; she didn't offer anything back.

"Losing...losing mom," he started, hesitating between each word, "I...I realised...again, how short life is."

Elodie glanced over to him, tracing the soft muscles rippling in his jaw. She didn't speak.

"After...I thought of you. And how...I've lost so many people. Too many...too many I c-care about. And the idea...of losing you too...I used to have nightmares about that shit."

"Diego..."

"I still do, sometimes," he continued. "It-it eats me up. Makes me want to ru-run over here and wake you up, just so I know you're still with me. But-but I can't. Couldn't. But seeing you again, I can't...it's so hard, to stay away from you."

Elodie sat up on the couch, too perturbed by the sudden confession to try and look unbothered. She stared at him, waiting for his next words to shake her up even more.

"You know, b-b-before, she...she...I told her. About us."

"About...?"

"Told her that I couldn't look at another person, without seeing you in them," he muttered gruffly. His hands turned over and over in his lap. "You're fuckin' everywhere. All the time. Like a curse."

She huffed, a breath of mirthless laughter that died just as soon as it left her lips. "First time anyone's called me a full-on curse."

"I didn't mean--"

"--I'm just kidding around," she interrupted. Elodie tried to offer a smile, but it strained and hung ugly on her lips. "I was just kidding. I...know what you're saying."

She shifted her weight on the couch, much closer to him. Their thighs brushed and that time she didn't flinch and pull away, but pressed closer into his body like a nervous foal searching for comfort. Slowly, her hand stretched out and moved, trembling, over to where his sat wringing. It fell around them and clutched softly.

He didn't move.

"I know what you mean," she murmured gently. Her fingers traced down his scarred skin gently, wondering if they had the strength to curl up and hug it. "I...I don't know if I've gone a day without thinking of you."

"I don't want to h-h-hurt you. Again."

"Me neither."

"I don't want to bring you into this, either," Diego said. "This life, these...it ruins people."

"I can--"

"--I know you can take care of yourself. And I, I hate that I said you couldn't. I know you can. But I can't stop myself from just--" he stopped, screwing his eyes tightly shut. "I c-can't be the reason you, or your brother gets hurt."

Elodie sighed, leaning back against the couch again. Her pose matched his almost perfectly, save for her eyes, which remained trained over his face. "Out of all the reasons we didn't work before, Diego, fear wasn't one of them. And I wouldn't let you in my home if I was scared now. For me or my brother."

"But--"

"--the only fear," she continued, narrowing her eyes when he tried to cut her off, "I have ever had is for you. And this constant decision to throw yourself into danger without considering your life, hanging in the balance. That hasn't changed."

Diego's eyes finally reopened. They blinked and batted away tears from harsh light hitting them, before refocusing down at Elodie beside him. His hands folded around the one she still had in his lap and laced tight, like he was afraid any second, she would let go and leave him. His eyes still hung heavy and sad, but they seemed a bit warmer again. A little more hopeful, ready to see a new way into that shitshow some called life.

"I..." he paused as a while away, his jacket crackled and static voices echoed from it. Immediately Diego was pulling away and back on his feet to reach for it. He yanked out a sort of walkie-talkie and held it to his ear, listening intently. When the crackles ceased, he was moving again, pulling on his jacket and rushing about to gather his things.

"What's going on?" Elodie asked, wearily curious.

"I -- I gotta go."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, and there was some genuineness to the apology in his eyes. He had that decency, at least. "I have to go. This - the people - they--"

"--go," she said quietly. "It's okay. I get it." A lie, but a damned one that had to be said. She didn't bother finishing the rest of her thought -- how this was what had broke them up before. "Be careful."

Diego hesitated before pulling forward and standing in front of her. He looked down at her, mournful eyes full and large. It'd be a pretty sight, if it didn't hurt so. "We will talk about this tomorrow. Or -- soon."

"Yeah. Okay."

"I promise you. As soon -- as soon as possible."

"Okay," Elodie repeated again. Her chest twisted and throbbed and it took all her energy not to unleash it onto him. It would feel better in the moment, but they had pushed so far. Saying goodbye would be easier. "Go do your thing. Just...be safe. Okay?"

"Yeah."

"I mean that. Take care of yourself, Robin Hood."

He gaped down at her. "You...uh..." The name had obviously struck a chord. "Yeah. Okay. I will be."

Elodie nodded, and watched as he tore out of the living room and back over the kitchen door from whence he had come. Another moment and he was gone, vanished into the dark and ready to chase after another threat, save another family, leave another sufferer to stand for his crimes.

"Please be safe," she whispered. "Please...for me."

No one but the clock answered back.

There are so many exclamation marks in this chapter. I'm reading this over and just wondering how on earth I managed to cram so many '!!!' into this damn chapter. Wow.

Also, this chapter is so chaotic and messy and is it just them going back around in circles, making no sense at all?? Absolutely. This was written without rhyme or reason and I am sorry for those who sat through it. Lmao.

Just as a head's up -- the next chapter'll be long and discuss the past years of Elodie's life. And then we'll ram right into the end of TUA season one, but that comes next. It'll be a lot.

Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought.