One Drizzling Day
-•-•-

While the rain outside continues to fall
Inside she watches
as he flicks the pages I of his
thick medical tome

His long, slender fingers
caress each thin page
and then he turns
to a new one

She watches
as his eyebrows
pull together in concentration
His dark hair shining
under the dimly lit chandelier
Every time
he tilts his head

The raindrops outside smile at each other
witnessing the scene
occurring before them

"Poor child, she does not even know,"
One whispers to another
as they fall.
The other agrees,
"It has begun. She is falling in love."

Growing up I remember I thought about marriage a lot. Many would say that I thought about it more than an average person would. I won't deny it, I suppose I did.

Marriage has always fascinated me. Maybe it's because of was how different the couples in my family around me in my childhood were. Whenever we visited family or had gatherings — I noticed. The couples. Some were happy, some were sad, some didn't care and some didn't exist anymore. I remember the first time I wondered how my marriage would be like was when I was in primary school.

At that time I wondered if my marriage would be like how it was in the movies. Would I stay at home and bake pie every day for a stern husband with a moustache and styled back hair that stuck to his head as if he had used glue instead of gel? Would I serve him tea and cookies every time he came back home from work? Would I press his clothes to perfection? Would I spend my days in the garden? Would my life revolve inside the perfectly white picket fence? Around my husband? Around us?

When I reached high school I had more knowledge about marriages — or more so about the people that were in these arrangements. It wasn't wise to classify marriages into categories, after all, how could all of them possibly be the same when the people were different? Still, I was sure I was going to marry someday. I just needed to find a suitable person.

During my teen, I wondered if my marriage would be like my mum and dad's. If I would find someone suitable, someone whose heart personally sung to mine, someone who balanced out my interests and filled up the voids I had like I filled up his? I wondered if when I found someone compatible would my husband and I really be okay with talking to each other while one sat in the toilet, right in front of the other, and pooped? Just like my parents? By the end of high school, I swore to myself that I would never let my husband hear me fart or know when I pooped.

By the time university rolled in, unlike Saara, my belief in the institute had almost shattered. After my last failed relationship in high school, I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't fall back into that trap. Still, how was it possible to just simply abandon a fantasy that I had weaved ever since I was a child? Maybe that was why I have always secretly still believed in a possibility.

Under the secrecy of my own thoughts, I wondered if marriages were like they were in the novels I read. Of course, I had been warned not to believe the idealistic romance and bed scenes these novels possessed. In fact, I knew not to believe them. But this tiny voice in the back of my head refused to stop — after all, where could such moments appear from if not from some small part of reality? People had to think of these ideas from somewhere, didn't they?
By university, my thoughts and opinions were a large mess — a blend of idealistic and realistic, immaturity and maturity, ignorance and curiosity. A lot more reluctant to believe, but a lot more dreamy.

During university, I wondered what it would be like to sit on the sofa together and watch movies. I wondered what it would be like to hold hands without having a reason to. I wondered what it would be like to be willing to die for someone who was not the family your God had given you, but one that you had decided to give yourself. I wondered what it would be like to have a fight and who would be the one to first apologise. I even planned out ideas on how I would apologise if I were in the wrong. Would there be hand grabbing? Crying? Door slamming?

After all, people didn't always stay happy when they were in love, did they?

I wondered what it would be like to fall asleep in each other's arms. How it would feel like to wake up with my husband's arms protectively around me. How it would feel like to be loved by a man. A man I could hold and call my own. Until death would do us apart?

By the time University ended and I began working, I completely forgot about marriage altogether. There was a sharp progression from fascination to disillusionment. Priorities changed and so did goals. I didn't care for a companion. Marriage suddenly seemed something I could see myself being happy without. So did a husband. So did love. I began thinking about myself more. Self-love, self-care, the beauty around me, my small home, my small family, and my small world. I thought I was happy. And I was, I was content.

Then I met Isaac... and his quiet dad.

Right now, as I lie awake in the still dark room at the crack of dawn, while the birds outside begin to wake alongside the slowly rising sun, while the neighbourhood traffic slowly begins to buzz with movements to begin a new day, while the help downstairs begin to awake too, I don't know much about the other things — I also don't know much about being loved or having a husband but I sure can tell how it feels to wake up with a man's arm wrapped protectively around me.

It feels... warm.

While I lie on the king-sized bed on my back and stare at the ceiling above me slowly become more and more visible to me, I can't help but ignore the two boys snuggled around me.

At first, when I woke up, I was shocked. My frazzled, foggy brain rushed grasp the scattered remnants of last night's memory — and when everything began making sense, I felt a bit stupid for thinking we would be holding hands all night long.

In the slowly brightening room, I turn my head as much as I can and gaze at the sleeping man beside me. He looks beautiful even when he sleeps. His slightly swollen face only makes him look more like his son... a child. It's surprising just how child like someone can look while they sleep. It almost makes me want to reach out and slowly trace the soft planes of his face.

Then I slowly turn my gaze to the large warm arm wrapped around my naked waist and feel myself blush. My shirt must have ridden up during the night. For a second I wonder how I feel about this. About this sudden intimacy. Should I remove his hand? That would be the most decent thing to do, right? Would he feel awkward if he woke up and saw us like this? Would we never be able to talk to each other normally?

Oblivious to the storm in my mind, William sighs in his sleep and shifts. A gasp rips out of my lips when I feel his arm tightening around my waist, riding my shirt even more up in the process.

Aborting the thought of removing William's hand entirely, I turn my attention towards my right instead and smile when little Isaac shifts under his blanket too. Curling himself further into a fetal position, he continues to shove his bum into the side of my waist. Smiling at the sleeping little peanut, I reach to brush his hair away from his eyes when I decide that I should slip out of bed now.

It's around the time when I've always gotten out of bed, and the sudden pressure on my lower abdomen subtly reminds me of my daily habits and duties. I need to use the loo. At the realisation, my attention goes back to the arm thrown around my waist. But how will I get out of bed?

Normally it's easier to get out of bed. Issac isn't one to cuddle on the majority of the days so it's not hard to remove myself from bed usually. The hard part is that William wakes up every single time I try to get out of bed. He's a light sleeper and even though that has not been so bad for me on other days — today, I feel like that's the worst sort of trait to have.

If I move, he will wake up too. If he wakes up he will see his arm. If he sees the position we are in, he'll get awkward. If he gets awkward... It'll hurt.

I stop, not wanting to go any further. A sad sigh slips from me and I bite my lip, trying to think about what to do now.

Maybe I can just get up really fast? That way he won't be able to grasp where his hands were?

I freeze and grin. The idea in my mind seems so simple I don't know why I hadn't thought about it from the start!

Slowly I begin moving my left arm up until they are covering William's. Then maneuvering my palm around his own, I slowly slide my fingers between the spaces of his. As if by reflex, his own fingers tighten around mine and I smile triumphantly when I tighten our hold and slowly begin moving our arms to a safer zone.

When our hands are safely between us, I wonder if he will buy it. He was holding hands with me with his right-hand last night, and today he's holding my hand with his left? I want to scoff. Even I wouldn't buy it.

"Oh well! It's too late for that!" I tell myself, "You have things to do now!"

Then I begin trying to get up. Getting up to a sitting position, I slowly begin removing my hand from William's. And when I'm successful, I throw a bewildered look at the still sleeping man. Normally he would have woken up by now.

Slowly though my shocked expression melts into a sad one.

"He had a rough day at the hospital yesterday, he must be tired," I tell myself as I carefully begin to move to the edge of the bed and climb off, standing steadily on my feet when I'm off of the bed and standing beside it.

For a second I stare at the boys sleeping on the bed. My mind swirls around the fact that I was in the small space that is now empty, only minutes ago. I was there... where the woman of the house should be. Where Isaac's mother should be. Where's William's... I stop, biting my lip to stop the thought from progressing.

"It's dangerous to keep walking along that path of thought — it's dangerous for my heart," I tell myself for the thousandth time. Still, I find myself bending over a surprisingly still sleeping William. Up close, I can see the tired eye-bags underneath his eyes, the tiny sharp facial hair he will probably shave when he wakes up, I can see every pore and every spot tiny spot of discolouration that can only show if you're as close to him as this — and I smile.

The feeling of gratefulness seeps into my chest as I gaze at the sleeping man. To be able to lie beside him... I must have done something good in my earlier childhood.

My eyes trace the bridge of his nose, his cheeks and then the mass of thick hair that is usually styled back now falling over his forehead in abandonment, almost completely covering his eyes. For a second I wonder if I would be able to realise if his eyes were open and he was looking at me behind the dark mop of hair. At the thought, my fingers automatically find themselves reaching forward and softly moving his hair away from his eyes. Watching my fingers touching the softness of his skin, I blink and quickly retract my hands back to my chest. My heart beginning thump wildly in my chest.

"This is dangerous. I shouldn't do this," I scold myself under my breath as I begin to turn around and escape — I find myself frozen on the spot. A sigh leaves my lips and I turn back around. Slowly reaching forward, I pull the blanket comfortably up till William's chest. Then I turn around and quietly make my way to the bathroom, just as I've done a dozen times whenever I've stayed over during the past two months.

It has become a morning routine of sorts — waking up alongside William and then going to freshen up, going down to stroll in the gardens, afterward going to help in the kitchen, and then walking back upstairs to wake Isaac. He's usually less moody if he's woken around six-thirty. I'd know because I've done a bit of experimentation with his waking times. Anything before 6.30 AM leads to a very moody and pouty Isaac.

His father on the other hand, for the past two months, has usually been up by now and out of the door by 6.40 AM. His shifts start at 7 AM and end at around 5 PM, 7 PM on busier days, overnight on days when he is on-call, which are Mondays. Growing up being half brown, I was always expected to have 'doctor' as a career option — I remember I often thought about how cool the profession must be. Now that I see it first hand... apart from having the opportunity to save lives, the pay-check is the only cool part about it.

I frown settles on my face as I flush the toilet, and begin making my way towards the shower, still half-naked. By the time I'm under the warm beads of water falling on me, I'm completely naked.

My frown deepens. William works long hours, and barely gets time to have a proper 8-hour sleep unless it's Saturday when he has a day off. It might not matter to him because he's a bit of a workaholic, but the amount of time he gets to spend with Isaac is compromised. It makes me realise how much patience and understanding it takes for the family of a surgeon to have.

Washing shampoo off of my hair, I bite my lips. In fact, didn't I read somewhere that surgeons had a high divorce rate?

I reach for the conditioner, a long sigh releasing itself from my lips. Is that also why Shirley couldn't stay? Was she not prepared for her husband's long hours away? But... didn't she love him enough to understand? To stay?

Quickly I shift my wheel of thought elsewhere. Speaking of William, it's surprising how today he didn't wake up when I did.

"Oh well," I sigh before I turn the shower off and, twisting most of the water out of my hair, wrap a towel around myself and begin walking out, making my way towards the vanity. I really should brush and get ready. After all, I have to go to work today as well.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Could you pass me the salt, Gem?"

"Here you go," I beam at Mary as I pass her the salt before turning back to the cucumbers I am currently slicing.

In a normal household, it's unusual to see the house bustling with life so early. In this household, though, the house comes to life at the strike of five.

Around Mary and I, the housekeepers are also on a roll. In front of us, Lilly and Ren are setting up the table. Out in the living room, Tara and Sandra are already taking down the curtains for a wash and to let some more light into the house. Outside in the gardens the gardener Robert is probably watering the flowers or already beginning to plant the sunflowers he told me he wanted to plant last week. The security guards out the front of the house must also be changing shifts — two going home and two signings into work.

"Good morning!"

At the cheerful deep voice my eyes snap up and I smile when I see Olly entering the kitchen, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

"Good morning!" Everyone in the kitchen echoes his bright greeting with the same enthusiasm. I watch as Olly turns to grin at Ren and the boy blushes under the muscular man's attention. Then Olly turns his gaze to me and his stride quickens.

"What's little Issac getting for lunch today?" He asks as he comes to stand between Mary and I. His tall form looms over our tiny forms and Mary quickly swats at his chest when he manages to steal a few cucumbers away from me.

"Naughty boy!" Mary scolds him, waving her wooden spoon at him in warning before turning back to the shreds of chicken she's lightly roasting.

"Chicken Sandwich and salad," I answer, looking back and tilting my head up to smile at him brightly. I don't know why but Olly makes me feel like a little girl again. That's why it's unusual when I find myself being cute and childish in front of him most of the time. He treats me like a child too, trying to take care of me like one. I don't know why but I guess that's why I treat him like an older brother.

"Someone's in a good mood today," Olly chuckles messing up my hair as he instantly gives into my idiocy like he always does. I pout at the man before turning back to the vegetables.

"Don't tease me, I'm a morning person," I grumble under my breath. At the thought of the word 'morning, my eyes glance towards the wall clock and I perk up when I see that it's almost 6.30 AM.

Turning towards Ren I smile when I catch him already looking at me. At my smile, his eyes widen in surprise and he nods immediately, knowing already what I'm about to ask him to do.

"I'll wake him up now,"

"Thank you, Ren!" I call after the rushing boy.

When I had arrived here first, the help had hated me. A smile flutters on my lips at the reminder of those times. It has taken a lot of time and communication to gain their trust. A lot of time to redeem myself in Shirley's place. I still get happy when I think about the day Ren approached me first and apologised.

"Boss is late today," Lilly blinks after she comes around the kitchen Island and stands beside Mary, having set up the breakfast table.

I turn towards a suddenly concerned looking Mary and smile, putting my hand over her cold ones, "He had a rough day at work yesterday so I let him be."

"I just hope every day that the boy takes more care of his health. So far I'm only disappointed—" Mary sighs but stops when the fresh, crisply dressed person walks into the kitchen.

"Good morning,"

My eyes roam along his meticulously ironed and matched outfit but I grin when my gaze reaches his socks and I realise he's wearing the black and grey bat printed pair that Isaac had gifted him last week.

"Good morning!" Mary beams as William settles himself on the dining table. Still grinning, I turn my attention back to the cucumber and slicing the last bits. Setting it aside I reach for the slices of bread and begin to toast and butter it.

"Hey!" I hiss when a strong hand reaches forward and sneakily grabs the buttering knife and toast from my hand, and begins buttering it himself. Twisting my neck and looking up, I try my best to glare at the tall man trying his best to look as straight-faced as ever.

"Give it back," I whisper at him threateningly.

"Go have breakfast," Olly replies simply, whispering back at me as he motions towards the dining table.

His head-bopping towards the dining table makes me glance in its direction too. At the table, four spots have been made, one of which is occupied by a silent William looking down at the toast before taking another bite of the buttered piece of bread. I glance in the direction of the empty spots and bite my lips, glancing into Mary's direction.

"Go on, sweetie," She waves her hands towards the table, catching me looking at her.

"Gemma,"

I stop, noticing that everyone beside me except Olly does too. My eyes shoot up and meets William's dark, piercing ones. He smiles at me. I blink.

I feel the strings of my apron being pulled and falling loose on either sides behind me. Still, my eyes continue to hold William's. My eyes widen, when I notice the exact moment when his gaze dulls and he looks down, back at his food.

"Go on," Mary whispers, pulling the apron from over my white blouse and pale peace coloured office skirt before pushing me slightly to get me walking.

Sliding into the chair beside William, I look at the silently eating man curiously.

"You okay?" I lean towards him and whisper.

"I'm fine," He mumbles under his breath so that we are the only two people who can hear. Somehow his reply only makes me more curious.

"You're upset," I state in a matter of factly way, turning towards the spread laid out before me. Truthfully, I've been craving roti and curry for breakfast ever since I woke up today. Seeing chicken, egg and smoked salmon sandwich in-front of me instead is a bit off-putting, but I figure I'll just make myself some brown breakfast when it's my turn to take Isaac home. So, I pick up a smoked salmon sandwich and take a bite.

"And you're clumsy," William mumbles as he reaches forward and rubs mayonnaise off from the corner of my mouth.

Our eyes meet and I find my hand shoot up and grasping onto his arm to stop it from moving back, "So you admit it. You're upset."

William and I just look at each other for a few seconds before he slowly pulls his arm from my grasp. I watch with wide eyes when he brings his thumb and licks the mayonnaise off, his eyes still on mine.

Behind us, Lilly begins to start coughing erratically and I immediately turn towards her with a concerned expression to see a grinning Mary patting the back of a now completely red looking girl.

"Are you okay?" I call out to her, only to have her shooting me a thumbs up and nodding like a crazy woman.

"She's fine just drank water in a rush," Olly chuckles, his sparkling amused eyes on me.

"Oh," I nod, still not understanding why the girl looks so embarrassed.

"What time do you get off of work today?"

I blink, my attention shooting back to William at his question.

"Around 5, why?"

"I'll pick you up."

Lilly's cough starts again and I cringe when I hear Mary hitting her back loudly. That must hurt.

Still, my attention remains on the man beside me nibbling on his toast. Surprise bubbles in my chest at his statement, and I can't help but wonder if he's trying to be nice after last night. That does make sense.

"Okay," I nod, accepting his offer. However, I wonder if he'll even be able to get off by then — although he does get off at 5 PM officially that's still a rarity. Usually, he can't get out till after 7. Sometimes even not even until 10.

"Mummy!"

I can only turn around in my chair and open my arms before a growing bundle collides into my chest.

"Good morning, handsome," I beam at the child as I tuck a small rebellious strand of hair behind his ear.

I don't miss the proud grin Isaac sends in his father's direction as he blossoms under my compliment, his smile widening from one ear to another.

"Your mother will come home late today, Isaac. So don't make a fuss and go to bed when Grandma Mary asks you too, okay?"

"What?" Isaac and my identical outburst echoes around the room as we stare at William.

"Why?" Isaac turns towards me this time, his eyes wide and mouth set in a pout. He already looks like he's about to cry. I brace myself for a fight between the father and son pair.

It isn't like I'm not used to this, I've noticed that both father and son are quite alike. Both competitive and protective. Still, it's never great to be the subject of their competition.

This time, however, William's gaze slowly moves from his son to me and I find myself straightening in my seat. Like every time he looks at me like this, I can feel something inside me beginning to bubble under his deep, piercing gaze.

"I'm taking her out tonight,"

Lilly almost faints.

So do I.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

An hour later finds me in the SUV, my lips pursed, hands clutching my bag tightly against my chest as I quickly sneak a glance in John's direction before looking at the back of the front passenger's seat where Olly is seated. A low sigh leaves my lips after a few seconds and I let myself slump back against the back seat.

The silence in the vehicle is deafening. It has been this way since the driver, John, Olly, Isaac, and I left home. It has been this way ever since we dropped Isaac at his school. Actually, the silence has been a companion of the entire household ever since William indirectly asked me out for a date in the morning.

I'm sure the entire household has been aware of the dance William and I have been doing around each other for the past two months. Mary has even tried to indirectly blow wind towards the topic of conversation a few times. Almost always praising William and then encouraging me to begin a relationship with him if we were both interested in it.

I think the entire household knows I like William. Saara even swears that William knows too. I pray every night that he doesn't. It's no secret between myself and I thought; I liked him two months ago when I barely knew him and I like him now, as I continue to learn about him more and more each day. But despite knowing my feelings clearly, I still can't tell what William feels.

That is what scares me — not truly knowing how he feels. Not having any verbal confirmation. The funny thing, though, is that no matter how much I keep warning myself to stop — to steady my heart — I can't help but like him more and more every day.

During the early mornings when I discover myself strolling the gardens just as the sun rises, and find William suddenly joining me — just sitting beside me silently or walking with me. Neither one of us talking, both being comfortable only in each other's presence, our hands brushing against each other's innocently — I find myself liking him more and more.

During the nights when I'm deep into a book, editing and proofreading away without hours of break, and a milky hand extends a steaming cup of tea towards me without so much as me asking for it — but knowing that I secretly might need it and so making it for me — I find myself liking him more and more.

During days when it's my turn to stay at my house, and hearing my doorbell ringing at night or early in the morning — only to find a tired William on the other side of the door with a lame excuse even he doesn't believe. Knowing that he knows I can see that he's seeking comfort from me, and still letting me witness it... witness his vulnerability — I find myself liking him more and more.

There are these moments and more, moments when I realise that I have started liking him a little bit more. Moments when I wonder if maybe it's not like anymore... if it's more.

"We're here,"

My eyes snap up at Olly's words and I look outside to see that he's right, we're already stopped in front of my office. And it's drizzling. The car's windows are now matted with water droplets. Thankfully though, the driveway is partially roofed and so I can at least manage to save my dignity and remain dry before signing into work.

Without wasting time, I quickly get out and shut the back door before moving to the already opening passenger side's window.

"Thanks, John," I smile at the middle-aged man before turning towards Olly, "Thanks Olly. See you later!"

"Bye!" John grins, waving his hand.

"Have fun on your date!" Olly winks at me mischievously and I find my cheeks beginning to warm. It's time to escape!

"Bye guys!" I blurt out instead, instantly turn around and begin walking away before they shoot another cheeky remark my way. The fading laughter that erupts behind me only makes my cheeks warmer. The light rain does little to soothe the sharp sounds of amusement. I pout sadly. The jerks are laughing at me!

Getting into the elevator, I try to console myself for ditching the stairs today but I know that I can't deny the fact that my legs need a bit of a rest. That and the fact that I really need to sign in before 8 AM in order to not get my pay cut — and it's almost 7.56 AM.

Pushing in my floor's number, I quickly step back and lean against the metal wall, dropping my head down as I begin to analyse my nude heels.

"Wait!"

The sudden yell and hand shooting between the almost closed elevator doors has me letting out a shrill, loud yelp and shuffling myself even more into a corner of the elevator out of shock.

Still, I stare at the entrance as the elevator's door slides open slowly, ready to ask the person on the other side of he's okay! That must have hurt!

But as the door opens and the man beyond it becomes more and more visible, I find myself forgetting every single ounce of concern. Instead, my eyes widen as fascination and disbelief washes over me instead while I stare at a male model from some Armani's photo-shoot, standing on the other side of the elevator's door staring at me as well.

"I'm sorry, I seemed to have frightened you," The man turns towards me after a moment of silence when he walks into the elevator and steps back, seemingly okay with my floor selection.

"Ah, it's no problem. I overreacted, sorry, I was just startled. I hope your hand is okay," I wave my hands in front of me dismissively, shaking my head as well.

"Excuse me,"

My head snaps up towards the man and I bite back my gasp, my eyes widening when they land on his ocean bluish-green eyes. Looking at him this closely, I realise that although I was spared from the rain, he wasn't. I watch as a tiny droplet drips from his wet hair and onto forehead, trailing down his temple and jaw. Like liquid diamond.

Then it slowly begins to make sense. He's tall, with almost perfect visuals, he's chocolate skinned and also has the eyes! He's also going to the same floor as me! Oh no...

"Are you Gemma Windly by chance?"

Oh God... It's him... It's my boss.

"Yes, I am," I smile at the man instead. I refuse to show him how nervous I am, our first impression has already been ruined and there is absolutely no way I'm going to let him be mistaken about my personality. This way he won't take advantage of me as much as Alicia did.

"You're just as beautiful as you are in pictures,"

I still, my eyebrows pull together in a frown as I stare up at the man, suddenly not nervous at all but curious, "Excuse me? I don't understand what you're saying."

"You were the model for a charity art and photography exhibit around two years ago, am I correct?"

Recollection begins to settle into my foggy brain and I find myself perking up with understanding, "Ahh!! Yes, I did it when my cousin who is a photographer told me that the bidding on the piece would go to the charity. Unfortunately, I had exams on the day of the exhibit and couldn't attend. You attended the event?"

Nathan smiles and nods, "Your portraits had a lot of audience around them."

"Oh!" My eyes widen into small saucers at the statement, "My cousin just told me that the pieces did well. Did all the pieces sell well?"

"Yes," Nathan smiles as the elevator doors begin to open, "All four of them were bought by a single buyer."

"Oh!" My eyes widen with surprise once again before I take a step out of the elevator, behind him.

"Well, that's good to know. Thank you for telling me. Have a nice day, sir!" I smile at the man before beginning to make my way towards my desk without a second glance back. We're in the office now and I think it's best I act as I should, as one of the editors underneath his supervision. That and I don't want Sean to spot us talking and accidentally run his Volvo over me one day on the street.

"Gemma..."

"Yeah?" I glance up at the man on the opposite cubicle to mine with a bright smile.

"Why is Nathan looking at you?"

I pale.

"Or maybe he's looking at Jennie. She's sitting right beside me," I reply lamely, looking anywhere but in the direction of Nathan's office where I know, he must be standing.

"You'd be an idiot to expect me to believe that, girl!"

"Oh relax, Seany! I'm not interested and neither might he be! Maybe he's just looking at me because he hasn't seen me around the office before?" I totally omit out any information that Nathan and I met in the elevator today, knowing that that will only lead me to lose precious minutes of my life explaining everything in detail to these curious people. Especially Sean and Tully.

"As long as you remember that I called dibs!"