Thursday, December 10, 2015

Chapter 2



Notes: 
1)He's supposed to be emotionally stunted because he's not wholly human. That's the reason for all the "huh, what's this feeling?" type things.
2)I am torn between making her believe completely in what she saw or believing the logical explanation more. That's why she seems to change her mind quickly. Not sure which I'm going with yet.

Comments required at the end of course. :p Huggles.
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Chapter 2




Brooke stared out the window. The hospital building obscured all but a small slice of scenery; a narrow strip of city lights against the darkness of night. Inexplicably, tears welled in her eyes, and the orange sulfur streetlights blurred into a wavery mass not too different from flames. She swiped her stinging eyes with the back of the arm that didn't have any tubes.

She would be released in the morning, not too much worse for wear. Well, except for her foot and leg. She shifted the sheet off of it, looking at the mass of bandages. She really was very lucky. Everyone kept saying so.

The burns weren't too severe, and would only require salve and bandages for awhile. Her throat was raw like it had been scrubbed with a wire brush, but the damage would heal in a few days. Her lungs hurt, but even without the oxygen they gave her, her breathing had recovered remarkably quickly for someone who inhaled massive amounts of smoke. She had a pounding headache and felt a little sick to her stomach too, but all things considered, she was really lucky.

Smoke inhalation usually kills people before the flames do.
Yeah, she could believe it. She remembered the weakness, the dizziness. The apathy, as she looked at the danger all around her and couldn't summon the energy or the breath to do anything about it.

She shivered at the recall. She remembered something else, too. Something inconceivable.

Just then, a knock came from the door, and it opened up quickly to a large bouquet with balloons.

“Helllooooo Brooke, my dear.”

Debbie, her boss from the paper, pushed her way in behind the bouquet. Brooke took a steadying breath. She was a sweet, old-fashioned lady in her sixties, who dyed her blunt shoulder-length bob a deep red and had blue eyeshadow as thick as her Texan accent.

“Come in,” rasped Brooke.

“Oh my darling, I just couldn't believe it when I heard what happened! You poor thing. You're so very lucky.”

Debbie set down the flowers and came over to the bed. She grabbed Brooke's hand in hers, studying her with pursed lips.

“We're all so glad you're alright. Don't worry about the paper, okay? You've got two weeks off, paid, and since the Spring Wedding issue is out already, everything's going to be pretty low-key for a while. Adam is helping us, telecommuting, sending us all the ads from where he is. If you need more time, it shouldn't be a problem.”

Brooke swallowed what felt like broken glass and tried for a little smile. “Thanks.”

Debbie patted her hand and pulled a chair up to her bedside. She sat down and opened her over-sized handbag, pulling out an open notebook and pen.

“Now I know you can't talk much, so I'll try to just ask yes or no questions and you can nod.” The pen clicked, at the ready.

The change from concerned boss to reporter with a story happened so fast Brooke didn't know whether to laugh or be insulted. Yes, Debbie was editor-in-chief, but they all had multiple roles when staffing was short. And staffing was always short at a small town paper.

“The fire department says the fire started about nine a.m. Does that sound right?"

She hadn't been able to eat much breakfast, way too excited to walk to the convenience store and get her paper. Then mailed it to her mother. Flirted with an extraordinary stranger on the sidewalk. How long had all that taken? She tried to remember, but all she could think of was the choking smoke, the heat. Desperate for a single good breath.

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.

Debbie, noticing her reaction, grabbed her hand again and gave her a gentle squeeze and a sympathetic smile.

"I know it's hard. I'm sorry we have to do this now," she said, her expression changing from regret to pleading. "It's for tomorrow's edition.”

Brooke nodded to let her know it was okay, though it felt anything but.

Debbie took back her own hand after a final quick squeeze.

“The initial statement is that they think this was some kind of gas explosion, does your experience coincide with that assumption?”

Brooke focused her thoughts on the moment she turned her key in the lock; the slight rumbling vibration that she felt through the floor and the door knob.

In hindsight, she's been an enormous idiot. Her few minutes of waiting to be certain of danger, were exactly what put her in that life threatening position.

With tight swallow, she said, "Yes. I felt the building shake a little bit. But I didn't know what it was."

“Did you smell any gas?”

She shook her head.

“Did you see any other residents?”

Brooke hesitated a moment before saying no, but Debbie didn't catch it.

“You were trapped momentarily, correct?”

She let out a wavery breath as that oppressive, hot feeling from the stairwell crept back. The burn of the smoke in her throat and nose and lungs. Realizing that she'd lost consciousness and caught on fire. If it hadn't been for...

She nodded.

Debbie put away her pad and pen and stood, her voice and gaze softening.

“I'm sorry, I'm done.” She stood and fluffed Brooke's pillows and pulled the thin blanket up to her chest.

“Listen,” she said, grabbing Brooke's hand into her own again. “I already spoke to the paramedics and the E.R. staff, your injuries are pretty minor. I'm sorry to tell you though, that your apartment's... ” She shook her head. “The management company is going to put you up in a hotel until they can find you a place though, okay?”

Brooke closed her eyes, nodding.

The one good thing about being a workaholic is that she didn't have too many irreplaceable things in her apartment. Except for a few pictures, most of her memories were still in boxes at her childhood home.

When she opened her eyes, Debbie's face held another concerned smile.

“The Red Cross is going to help you with necessities and clothing. They've got resources to help you with literally everything.”

Debbie patted her hand. Standing, she slung her large bag over her shoulder.

“I've got to go type this up for the morning. If there's anything else you need, just let me know, okay?” A quick kiss to Brooke's cheek, and she turned away.

Before she made it out all the way out the door, Brooke came to a decision.

“Debbie?”, Brooke asked with a croak.

She stopped with her hand on the door and looked back at her. “Yes?”

Brooke looked down at the sheet she was strangling in her hands.

“Did anybody say anything about a... a man?”, she asked hoarsely, looking at Debbie from under her bangs.

“A man?”

Brooke nodded.

Debbie turned back into the room, her face serious. “Well honey, there was a man killed in the fire. Another resident. Did you know him?”

Brooke was shaking her head before Debbie even finished. Yes, she'd heard, and she felt bad for not wanting to think about him, but her mind was set instead on her rescuer.

“No, there was a man there. He... he saved me,” she said, tapering off to a whisper. “He got me out of there.”

Debbie eyes lit with intense interest and she came to her bedside once again.

“Do you mean a firefighter?”, she asked curiously.

“No. He was... ”

Different? God-like? On fire?

“ ...Good looking. Dark hair. Light eyes. Black leather jacket.”


She'd already asked the paramedic, the nurse and a few others. No one knew anything about the darkly handsome man who had carried her out of the blaze. After plenty of introspective thought and examination of her memories, a hallucination didn't explain her escape from the burning apartment building. She'd been suffocating, burning.

Dying.

“No, no one's mentioned anything about it. You said he saved you?”, Debbie asked, amazement and curiosity in her voice.

Nodding, Brooke said, “I was stuck in the stairwell. I couldn’t find my way out, and I couldn't catch my breath. I was dizzy. My foot…” Brooke paused, twisting the sheets in her hands again. “He carried me out.”

The hungry reporter was back instantly. The notepad and pen came out, and Debbie scribbled across the pad.

“Did he go back into the building?”

Brooke frowned at the new and horrifying possibility. But... from what she remembered, even if he had, he should have been okay, right?

“I don't know. He wasn't there when I woke. Just the paramedics.”

"Can you give us a description? Will you talk to Cecil tomorrow?"

Cecil was their crime-beat reporter, and a retired police artist. Brooke nodded.

"Great," Debbie said with a grin, "We'll find him!"

She rushed out the door, calling out, “Anything you need, call me!” The door snapped shut.


Brooke sighed as she laid back, gaze once again on the tiny slice of orange city lights.

What if he didn't want to be found? Her brow wrinkled. A man with those kinds of abilities probably wanted to keep a low profile. But she just desperately wanted, needed, to say thank you for rescuing her.

And to find out if he started it.

-----




"What the fuck is this?"

A newspaper slapped down on the table in front of Levi as he ate his third protein bar. He looked at the paper, and then at Walker who stood there implacable, arms crossed.

"A newspaper?", he drawled, ignoring it on the table. Walker chewed his ass so bad when they got back from the fire, that he still simmered, days later. The worst part was that everything Walker said rang true. He fucked up. It still sat under his skin like a thorn though, pricking him. And every time he thought about it, his powers surged. So he tried not too.

"No shit. Open it." Walker stood at the head of the table with his legs planted. Face hard and empty.

Levi chewed slowly, eying him. He didn't so much as blink.

With a sigh, Levi flipped the paper open, looking for whatever ticked his commander off today. He skimmed the pages as he turned them.

"Stop."

Levi focused on the page before him, and his hands curled in. He focused on relaxing them. 'Mysterious Hero Saves Woman From Fatal Fire'. She lived then. Good. A little bit of the tension he'd been carrying around the last few days drained away.

But wait, this was a problem. Half way down the page was a sketch of his face. A very good one. He didn't bother reading the article because that was enough. In a small town like Canton? Someone was bound to recognize him, especially since he and the other soldiers had only 'moved' there six months ago. They kept a seriously low profile, but in a town where everybody knew everybody, strangers were noticed.

He folded it up and tossed the paper on the table. It skidded to a stop, and Walker slapped it up.

Pointing it at him, he said, "Your little fuck-up was enough of a risk on its own. Erratic dead, Chaolt still at large."

Levi's chest tightened. No, he hadn’t been able to save the erratic, and people had been put in danger. One more life lost, one more point in the enemy’s favor, and that fucking sucked.

But his only fault was not finding the guy in time. And he'd been trying, but was unable to pin anything down. "I told you -- "

"I know what you told me, and what I saw. You didn't find the Erratic because you were distracted, chasing after some tail."

Levi felt his powers flare, and he knew his eyes were starting to glow.

They all chased some occasionally, seeing to the needs of their bodies to keep their minds sharp. And yes, he'd been known for chasing his fair share. Sex was free and uncomplicated when there were so many willing human women. A one night stand left little risk of exposure, so they all 'chased' when they needed to.

But that wasn't what had happened at all. As attractive as the woman had been, as hungry as she'd made him... something had been wrong. He couldn't pinpoint the Chaolt, or the Erratic, and not for lack of trying.

"Fuck you. That wasn't it, and you know it."

"Bullshit. Take care of this, today."

Walker left them room while Levi yanked back hard on his anger, the heat shimmer before his eyes an indication that he was way out of control.

With a deep breath, Levi leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. Breathe in, breathe out, mind blank. Slowly, the fire inside him subsided.

He'd take care of it. He couldn't wait to, actually. 


What did that mean?




-----




He approached gingerly across the grass, not wanting to startle her.

She sat by the creek at her cozy new rental home, courtesy of the apartment management company. He'd knocked on her door, but got no answer. When he'd gone around to see if she was in the backyard, he'd seen her sitting there in the sunlight.

Her eyes were closed, arms crossed over her knees, face turned up to and outlined by the sunshine. Her silky braid hung down her back, shining with coppery light.

She took his breath away.

He hung back a minute, in the shade of a nearby evergreen. With a thought, he extinguished his cigarette and put it behind his ear.

It had been a week and a half since the fire.

She looks good. Healthy. Back to normal.

Her mouth turned down and she put her cheek down on her knees. Perhaps normal was still a ways away. Understandably.

A slight pressure in his chest caused his voice to come out raspy.

“Hey...” He cleared his throat. “Sorry to bother you.”

She sat straighter, swiping away the moisture that had gathered in her eyes. Surprise registered on her face as she looked his way. He almost smiled, she looked so shocked.

She stood up, wiping her palms on her denim capris.

“Um, hi.” Her eyes skittered from his face to his hands and back again.

Suddenly he was unsure of himself, palms sweaty. It was an odd feeling.

“I... I just wanted to see how you were. Since the fire.”

She kind of nodded. “I'm okay. You know... Thanks to you.”

He rubbed his neck and looked at her from under his brow.

She turned her gaze to the river, seeing a different scene.

“I was in and out of consciousness, but I can remember a lot of it.”

She turned back to him, tilting her head to the side.

“It's kind of hard to forget a guy with glowing eyes and hands, controlling fire as he carries you to safety.”

His chest tightened, and he peered at her from the shade. Shit.

With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms. “You must have been hallucinating. That much smoke inhalation…” He smiled in a way he hoped looked understanding, but it felt tight and flat.

Brooke shook her own head, looking down at the ground.

“I thought maybe I was at first, but the evidence suggests otherwise.”

She gestured at her still bandaged leg. Meeting his eyes again, she said, “There was no way I was getting out under my own power. There was no way anyone was getting out of there. Without some kind of miracle.”

“No miracle,” he said pointedly, leaning forward for emphasis. “Just lots of luck”

She considered him, unsmiling.

“I know what I saw.”


Dammit. Levi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his mood suddenly really freakin' sour. He didn't need this.

“Look, you were delusional. Dying.”

The moment he'd seen her in the stairwell had almost stopped his heart. She'd looked relieved. Happy. And mostly dead.

Even now, his chest hurt a little remembering it.

He looked her in the eyes. Living, blue, stubborn eyes.

“I didn't do anything but run you out of there. Anything more is your imagination.”

He gritted his teeth and added, “The police put my picture in the paper. Please ask them to stop. Tell them you made me up, or imagined it, or -- "

"It was me."

"What?"

"It was me. I work at the paper, and I asked my boss to help me find you."

"Why?"

"To thank you. For saving my life." She turned to the side and blew out a breath. "And to see...," she gestured with one hand, "If what I remembered was real."

"It wasn't."

She nodded with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Thank you. How ever you did it. I'll tell them to stop printing your picture now."

His eyebrows went up. It was going to be that easy?

She walked closer, until she stood in the shadow of the tree with him. She looked into his eyes. Here in the shadows her eyes were darker, endless. Beautiful.

She offered one uncrossed hand. "I'm Brooke."

Levi gave her hand a slow shake. “Nice to meet you, Brooke.”

It suited her. Lovely blue eyes, and that smile he remembered that sparkled like the creek behind her. She wasn’t smiling now, though, and this close he could see dark skin under her eyes, and how pale she was.

She cocked her head to the side, her soft, cool hand still in his grasp.

“Can I ask your name?”

He considered a moment. Did it matter if she learned it now? “Levi.”

“Levi,” she said, and then nodded. “Thank you again, Levi.”

He nodded and reluctantly let her hand go. The silence stretched between them as they stared at one another.

“Okay then,” he said. “Glad you're okay. See you around.”

With a two-finger salute he turned to leave. He'd only taken a couple of steps when he heard her say his name again quietly.

“Yeah?”

“There was one more thing I wanted to know.” She walked into the sunlight, favoring her left leg ever so slightly.

“Sure,” he said, putting his hands in his back pockets.

She wrapped her arms around her middle, and when she looked at him, her eyes were troubled.

“Did you start the fire?”




-----



“You’re accusing me of the setting the fire?”, he asked quietly. Levi crossed his arms over his chest, leather jacket creaking with the motion. Brooke couldn’t miss the warning undertones of his voice.

Her chin went up a notch.

“I think I’d be stupid not to. I almost died in that fire and I-” Her voice broke, and she shook her head and looked away blindly. “And even though you saved me, I just can’t excuse that if you did. That other guy, he died, and a lot of people lost their homes.”

"Of course I didn't. I saved you."

“Let’s pretend for a second that I hallucinated. Didn’t see you walking through fire unharmed. Let’s also pretend, that I didn’t see your arms glowing and - and your pupils b-burning,” she stuttered. “You were still there, in front of the building when we ran into each other. Twice. Why? Canton doesn’t exactly have a booming tourism industry,” she added.

Quieter, she said, “Now let’s pretend that I really did see all of that. What am I supposed to think?”

The frustration she’d felt for days leaked into her voice, making it raspy and wavery. “That it’s just one huge coincidence that a guy who can somehow control fire just happened to be outside my building before it exploded and burned?”

She kept thinking of the other resident, how he might have died. How he might have passed out just like her, only to awaken when it was too late. How it must have felt to have burns like the one on her ankle and foot, but everywhere. She'd had nightmares ever since the fire.

“Brooke, I didn’t cause the explosion,” Levi said, gentler. “After we bumped into each other, I’d only gone a few blocks when everything happened. I’d seen you walk in to that building and I…” Levi shook his head. “I was wishing I could say yes to coffee. I just went looking for you.”

Brooke swallowed. He'd wanted to say yes to coffee. With her. It made her want to smile, made her a little giddy, but...

Brooke put her hands in her hair and gripped it tightly, closing her eyes. Why couldn’t she just let it go? Chalk it up to the chemicals in the air and the lack of oxygen instead of this crazy idea?

“Did I lose my mind, Levi?”

She looked at him again, eyes damp and pleading, heart pounding. “Did I see you controlling fire? When you saved me?”

He only paused a second, and the look in his eyes was enough to convince her he was telling the truth. Pity.

She had imagined it.

“You were hallucinating. There are a lot fumes in fires, a lot of chemicals…” He shrugged. “Who knows what you were breathing in.”

Brooke’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I guess.” She gave a humorless laugh and scrubbed her eye with the heel of her hand. “Sorry. For the picture. For the craziness.”

Levi closed the gap between them, stopping just a foot away.

“You’ve been through a lot, Brooke. Take it easy on yourself. You’re not crazy.”

Brooke looked at him with a ‘yeah right’ expression, and he smiled at her, causing her heart to thump in her chest.

“All humans are a little crazy. The world is crazy." His smile dissolved. "Chaotic."

Brooke sighed and nodded, feeling like an idiot. He was right. What she thought she saw, wasn't real. Couldn't be real.

“You just need a little time. I’m sorry this happened to you, but you’ll be okay.”

He was right, of course. She’d been okay when her dad left, she’d been okay being the sole provider for her and her mother, and she would be okay now.

“Thanks, Levi,” she said with a little smile as she looked up at him. She immediately blushed and looked away. This close he was even more handsome, and his eyes... they were too direct and too warm for her comfort.

Her breath caught in her chest when his hand came up, and she looked back up at him, heart in her throat. It stopped inches from her cheek, and then he let it drop.

“Take care of yourself Brooke,” he said with a half smile, and turned away.

“You too Levi,” Brooke murmured.

He gave her a little wave but didn’t turn around.

In the vacuum his presence had left, she could feel her nightmares waiting for her.


-----




Levi crossed the street to his car.

He’d hated seeing the vibrant woman he’d first met on the street changed into a somber and anxious version of herself. He hated that he couldn’t see her again, couldn’t stick around to see that brighter version of herself return.

Hated too, that he had to lie to her, but it was in his favor that what she was saying sounded so crazy.

A guy that could control fire? That only happened in the movies.

He took the cigarette from behind his ear and put it between his lips with a sardonic smile, the end already cherry red.

As he opened his car door, he felt odd. Unsettled. Pausing a minute, he looked up and down the street, but saw nothing to explain his disquiet.

He got in the driver’s seat and shut the door, sitting quietly.

Five minutes later, he was sure.

The enemy was near. Somewhere. Still impossible to pinpoint.

Fuuuuuuck.

Luckily he didn’t feel any drain on his powers yet, so that meant they had some time.

There was only one reason the enemy would be here, and that was for an Erratic. That meant Brooke was in danger until they could find the Chaolt, the Erratic, or both.

Guess this wasn’t the last he’d see of her after all. The little thrill he felt at the thought gave him pause.

That was a dangerous thing, human emotions getting in the way of his mission. Which was to protect humans, fight the Chaolt, right the balance. And then fuck off back to his world.

Levi dialed the compound and started his car while it rang. When he heard a ‘Yo’ on the other end of the line, he said, “We’ve got another situation. Get the guys together, I’m one hour out.” Then he hung up, slammed the car in gear, and peeled away from the curb.



4 comments:

  1. So I know it's only been two days... but, it's been two days! Read it yet?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sorry i was slacking on the comments sis. I had a bone graph and it got infected so I've really been horribly sick. I'm turning a corner now though and trying to force myself to be productive :p


    So regarding the kinda disclaimers at the top. If I was a reader they would not see them. So I know the saying that says show not tell. But i think that it's best to do both. So somewhere in this chapter I think it would be nice to see it plainly where it says something like elementals have simpler emotional lives, or emotions are muted from the elemental energy or it takes a lot of practice to deal with the emotions that this human form comes with. Then after that the rest of it will make more sense.

    As far as blelieving goes. That's usually part of the trope for this genre of books is they steadfastly don't beleive and it has to be hammered into their minds and then that leads to some sort of demonstration wheather by asking for it as proof or by clearly witnessing another event. My problem with all that is many books take it too far and I end up rolling my eyes and saying come on stop being so stupid and blind. So right now I'm tottally ok with her going back and forth and then making up her mind. But doing it more than two more times would be too much. And yes I too would like to either see a demonstration or be there when she is clearly convinced :)

    Regarding repetition. Lucky is used 3 times pretty quickly. I love hammering home the idea that she feels fortunate or blessed!

    I really like how you handled the interaction with her boss though where she goes all business like and Brooke is surprised. Very deftly done!

    I'm very good at suspension of disbeleif and that is the point of writing right? To make a world or a story function as you want to. However, i was having moments of disbeleif because the average person's boss would not be that nice especially for minor injuries. Also the average person would be devastated by the loss of an apartment. Even if nostaligc things are out of the way every day things gain nostagia too. She lost thousands of dollars of clothes, her favorite blanket, the bottle of wine she was saving for 5 more years etc etc. Maybe that feeling of loss would compell her to further emotion or activity. Like I will find out what happened etc.

    I love that she did make it happen that she got a sketch into the paper. That rocks! It's like tv lol

    I love how ballsy she is confronting him and asking if he started the fire. The way you have all the clues lined up is impressive also.

    I don't know why you want any comments from me lol I'm not a writer and I can't do it. I'm not sure why. I've always felt I should be able to write. Maybe I get too anxious and in my way. Honestly that's why I'm just so impressed seeing writing from you. It's amazing and I'm so glad to see the story take shape.

    Hugs and loves sissy

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  3. Formulating a longer response when I have a bit more time, just... thank you! You're awesome!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I am so sorry you’ve been so sick!! That sounds AWFUL. Where did you get the bone graft?? And don’t worry about being slow to comment, really, it’s just my horrible insecurity talking. :p I hate that feeling of waiting. :p

    The disclaimers are only there until I figure out how to show or tell that information the right way. I have not figured out how to do that yet in a scene, so it will have to wait until the next draft when I go back in and layer. I just am at a loss at that, because supposedly exposition is bad, but that’s what I’d have to use to tell it. Or I could put a scene in their world to ‘show’ it, but you're not supposed to use scenes that don’t move the plot forward… So many rules! And a bunch that contradict each other lol.

    On to the comments!

    THANK YOU. There were some I was nodding at like, omg duh, lol, especially the realism parts. You are so right!

    I took the boss parts from when I was in the hospital with my liver surgery actually. I guess I just had a super great boss?? I’d like to leave that in kinda just a secret thank you, but I’ll add something about after 3 years at a small paper they were more like family than co-workers blah blah. Will that help enough you think?

    About a chapter and a half away is the demonstration scene where she is finally fully convinced.

    And the ‘lucky’ thing obviously needs more work. I was trying to show that she was feeling like she *should* feel lucky, but didn’t really feel that way yet. More just shock and trauma and trying to convince herself she was lucky.

    I’m actually super close to being done with this draft I think, like at least ⅘ of the way. So most of it is (poorly) written, and when Im done I will go back and do some rewriting/layering/edit and hopefully make it awesome. Which is why I need your help!

    Your comments RIGHT THERE are what my story needs lol. So hard to see things sometimes when you’re the one writing it and it’s playing out in your head. Also these first scenes are literally the first fiction I EVER wrote, so hopefully the writing gets a little better from about chapter 3 on, lol. But I will always need your insights as a reader and my sister, always.

    “I don't know why you want any comments from me lol I'm not a writer and I can't do it.”
    SERIOUSLY???

    Ok, two things.
    1) Writer or not, you’re A READER, an avid one at that. And even though Im writing this story for myself, it has to be good enough for readers too or there is no point. No point, and no money to be made. Your input is SUPER important to me.
    2) You know ALL the lingo I’ve spent months learning (suspension of belief etc etc) and more importantly, you know where something feels like it’s missing. Writing is a skill, like any other, and Im certain you could do it if you wanted to. But it is really HARD sometimes, and anxiety about your writing is a bitch. I have learned though that every single author goes through it multiple times, even the best ones. You just have to push through it. I have a writing partner that suffers from a lot more anxiety when it comes to writing, but we are helping each other through it. If you ever decide to try your hand at it, I’ll be your partner!

    Thank you so much again, and I love you! I hope your health and your mood gets a lot better soon. Huggles!




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