prohibitions | When love became an act of defiance

He thought that it would be more overwhelming to be around so many people. While the thoughts around him were abundant, it was more like white noise. Perhaps it's because he had always been stuck in situations that he didn't want to be in. With nothing to focus his attention on, all he could do was concentrate on the medley of thoughts around him. Here though, there were other things to focus on. Things to enjoy.

Maybe that was the difference. He had little to enjoy, but here he could appreciate and enjoy himself completely. There was nothing to distract his wandering mind in most situations before. Here though, he has too many things to distract himself with. New experiences one after the other. Being a nobody in a grand city was...nice.

They spend much of their time just wandering. In particular, Jonathan finds the other dragging him into quaint little bookstores and music shops. It seemed that Abel had hobbies and interests of some sort. Particulars that was hard to know about because all he did was work. Yet, Abel seemed to be particularly fond of romance novels and he seemed rather taken with music; spending a rather long amount of time admiring some beautifully restored violins or lingering at sleek pianos. He didn't buy anything, but at least Abel seemed to not be completely devoid of any interests.

If he was tired, he shows very little signs of being so. Perhaps there was just too many things to enjoy for him to think about how his body aches. It isn't until they're eating dinner that he really feels it catching up.

He doesn't answer his question right away as he examines the flower in his hand. His mother was an avid gardener. He remembers the time he spent with her when he was younger. Before things turned for the worst. The meaning wasn't lost to him. "Quite so. It's far more interesting than behind a tinted glass window." He looks over at Jonathan. "Were there particular reasons you chose a carnation and in this color, Jonathan?"

As the other pulled him along, he made it a point to pay attention to the little things. Jonathan wasn't a musician or by any sense musically inclined but the instruments in the music shop were beautiful. Watching the other spend his time staring at such things made him wonder but he's also glad to find out what might pique the other's interests.

He was elated to hear that Abel enjoyed the day's adventure. He's not sure if they'll ever get the opportunity to do this sort of thing again after these next few days but it was worth it.

Jonathan knew very little about flower language, what he did know, he learned from the little sister of one of the agents working under his parents who owned a flower shop. She was patient with him the few times he was ordered to ever bring flowers for any of his jobs, giving him little crash courses here and there.

So when Abel asks him about the choice of carnation and its color, he flusters a bit more, "I thought... a rose would be too formal." A rose and a carnation had similar meanings along with the color red, however, the rose was the only one of the two that had another meaning attached to the number you gave.

His voice softens a little as he focuses on the flower in Abel's hand, "It means love and affection from what I was told." Jonathan could have easily picked a flower in yellow for friendship or something else entirely but he didn't. At first, it was just a going to be a simple gesture, one he's done before with others but now that he's having to explain himself, he knows its more than that.

He might as well be honest about his choice, had he not, Abel could very well have read his thought process. "Sorry... should I not have?" He asks.

"I used to garden with my mother," Cain comments. It's innocuous, but Cain rarely talks about any details about himself. "She quite fancied flower language."

He looks at the flower in his hand again; brows furrowing a little as he twirls it. "You know that it won't work out, right?" It isn't an outright denial of his emotions or a proper rejection, but an observation. As if he can freely pursue his valet. Cain didn't have the luxury of getting to choose who he wanted to be with. He didn't have that kind of freedom.

"The sentiment is nice though. Thank you. You know you're really much too kind," he replies with a soft smile. "An absolute idiot though. I don't know why you go out of your way, honestly. I can read your thoughts, yet I really don't understand." Jonathan is so simple to understand, yet perplexes him so much.

"Really? I never would'v taken you as someone with a bit of a green thumb." Jonathan replies, he keeps the little fact in mind if he ever gives Cain flowers again in the future. It was nice to learn more about him than just what he kept at the surface.

When the other reminds him that this sort of arrangement would never work out, he smiles a little, "I know." A valet falling for his charge was always going to be a bit of a double edge sword and he knows nothing longstanding may come from it. Even if it was a secret they held in subtle touches or behind closed doors, it was bound to hurt both of them if Cain's father found out. "Still... It doesn't hurt to try, right?"

The acceptance of the flower makes Jonathan smile wider, his gaze lingering on Cain's soft smile. Though, his expression is quick to change to being fake hurt at being called an idiot, chuckling it off. "Treating people I care about to nice things that may make them happy is just what I do. There aren't any hidden strings."

He holds out his arm, "Do you want to go home or did you still want to walk around for a bit?"

"Gardening is probably a strong word for pouring water onto plants until she told me to stop less I drown them," Cain replies back. "My mother enjoyed tending them and I enjoyed spending time with her. I believe I spent more time admiring than actual gardening." He also hadn't done those kind of things in a long while. Decades.

And he can't help but laugh. It's such a naive statement. Another reminder that he would be dirtying the other and causing unnecessary heartache for the other. Jonathan deserved much more than a jaded man who had no freedom or happiness in his future. "I think if you have to ask, you already know the answer." Cain doesn't give the other an answer, but perhaps there's something warning in his tone.

A click of his tongue. "I really don't understand," he reiterates, but ultimately drops the subject.

"I'm tired. I think I've had enough of the city for the day." It's a good ache though. Physically and mentally. An experience he won't be forgetting for the rest of his life.

As Cain talks about his mother with such fondness, Jonathan wonders how different of a person he might've been had he been raised in her care instead of by his father's cruel hand. "I'm sure you were a great helper. Watering is equally an important step alongside everything else in gardening." He can certainly see the other as more of an observer in that memory.

Cain knew that he was the stubborn sort and wouldn't give up on him so easily despite being told too for his benefit. The heartache or the other's concern of dirtying him weren't really thoughts he kept on the table to worry over. He hums as if considering the other's words though he doesn't say much in return.

Jonathan smiles softly, giving a final comment before letting the subject be dropped, "You'll figure it out one day." Cain was one of the smartest people he'd work alongside so he knows he'll understand in time.

"Home it is then." He leads the other back in the direction of where they had parked earlier in the day, a majority of the spots around them still filled with the nightlife crowd. The drive to his parent's home wasn't nearly as far as the drive from the estate to the city but still long enough if one wanted to doze off, which he thinks Cain might fall for.

The home itself was located in one of the more fancier neighborhoods, not nearly the size of the estate but still large enough to house a family of nine comfortably when everyone made a home visit, which was... more often than most for families whose children have left the nest.

He just kind of gives an undignified snort and a roll of his eyes. Sentimentality isn't something that Abel often partakes in. Possibly because he had very few good memories to look back to or perhaps it's seen as a point of weakness that he couldn't show.

The car ride is quiet, but partially because Abel dozes off in the car. The smaller man is curled up in the seat; fingers still curled around the flower that the other had given him. Despite his words, he seems to cling to the flower in his sleep, betraying his real feelings about the matter.

In the low light, Jonathan had only managed a few glances in Abel's direction during the drive, long enough to catch he had dozed off and that he was still holding onto the flower whenever they passed under a streetlight but he hadn't really thought much of it until they reached the house and he had parked in the driveway.

He wasn't quick to leave his seat as he took off his seatbelt, leaning over to do the same for Abel without waking him up in the process. The gentle lift of the other's arm through the seatbelt, the gentle maneuver of inching Abel away from the door to slowly easing off the seatbelt so it didn't clink against the door.

It takes a minute to get out of the car and make his way over to the other side, easily picking up Abel to carry him inside. The other was light enough for it not to be an issue, Jonathan did have to motion to his parents when they come to greet him at the door to be quiet so as not to wake the other before carrying him to his room.

Jonathan slowly places Abel onto the bed as he sat on the edge, gently taking the flower he had been clinging to, making a note to get a small vase for it later, and running his fingers against the other's hair to brush the strands away from his face.

Abel didn't really known the feeling of being safe with another. Not since loving embraces with his mother years ago. That was ages ago and all he had left were letters his mother would write to him that were delivered by staff. Love letters between a broken relationship torn apart by his father.

Jonathan felt safe though and so Abel doesn't stir much when they lift him up. Instead, he merely tucks his head against the other; seeking warmth while blissfully lost in his slumber.

It isn't until he is settled into bed and fingers gently brush against his face that he shifts. Eyes fluttering open, though unfocused. He doesn't sit up, but his eyes dart around to take in his surroundings. His voice a little hoarse when he speaks. "Did I fall asleep?" A dumb question, but he earnestly might still be half asleep still.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He smiles softly at the other, "Yeah, you were pretty much out like a light during the drive. We're at my folk's place now so you can rest easy." Jonathan tilts his head, running his fingers through Abel's hair before he slowly took his hand back. He was prepared to let the other go back to sleep on the bed while he probably took a spot on the floor, they had a long day after all.

Jonathan shifts to get up, mostly to find an extra blanket and to make Abel more comfortable, "Go back to sleep." They didn't have any sort of schedule to keep while they were here so he wasn't about to wake the other up early tomorrow, though whether or not Abel actually slept in for once was up to him.

While his family was excited to finally meet Abel for the first time, they also didn't want to overwhelm and potentially crowd his space while he visited.

Abel lets his eyes flutter close for a moment when Jonathan runs his fingers through his hair. Sleep. That sounded good.

But then the other moves to get up and he knows he should let the other do so. Yet, Abel reaches out to grab Jonathan's wrist. Abel knew that them getting attached to each other was a bad idea. He knows better, but- "Stay."

Well, it's not as though Abel was very good at doing what was better for him.

Jonathan wasn't expecting the other to grab his wrist to stop him from leaving, he turns towards the other, "Okay." He wouldn't deny such a rare request. He scoots Abel a little further towards the other side of the bed to give him enough space to lay on his side next to him.

He figured once Abel had gone back to sleep, he would find that extra blanket but for now he just cups the other's cheek and places a soft kiss on his forehead before he wraps an arm around the other's waist to keep him close. It wasn't until he laid down himself that he realized how tired he was, finding it rather easy to slowly drift off, though still attentive.

He wants to tell the other he's an idiot. The kiss was completely unnecessary. Even if it makes his heart flutter.

Abel just clicks his tongue a bit but shifts to settle back down. He's quick to fall back asleep. He usually doesn't sleep well, yet the other makes it so easy to fall asleep.

Jonathan's family had gone to check up on the pair when Jonathan hadn't come back to say hello after taking Abel to his room. Sayre had simply smiled before pulling an extra blanket out of the spare closet in the hallway and draping it over the two, closing the door to let them rest until morning.

The same tender attention could not be said for when his sisters quietly half dogpile him out of his sleep with soft giggles, careful not to jostle their brother too much with Abel so close. To which he quietly grumbles before swatting at them to leave, they tell him to hurry and get up cause they wanted to meet Abel before they leave the room again, after leaving an outfit behind for the other.

Getting up was an effort all its own, he was too comfortable to want to get out of bed before he looks down at Abel, smiling gently before carefully sliding out of the other's grasp after a few long minutes and pulling the blanket moreover him while he went to get ready for the day. He's slow to wake up Abel when he returns, running through their usual routine of getting ready.

When they go downstairs, the family greets Abel like he's always been a part of the family. His parents were collecting ingredients and cooking tools from various places and placing them on the kitchen island. Jonathan's sisters easily bound up to their guest, each taking one of Abel's arms and asking where Jonathan had been hiding him for the other not to have visited sooner. His brothers, on the other hand, were seated on the barstools on the other side of the counter space, out of the way for now as they both raised a hand in greeting.

Jonathan looks a little worried at the sudden onslaught of attention his sisters are giving Abel before they drag him off to the living room. He rubs at the back of his neck with a sigh before turning to greet his parents and apologize for not coming back down to say hello when they arrived.

This had been the most well rested he had felt in awhile. He doesn't remember a time where he was so comfortable and at peace. Even the thoughts don't really seem to bother him so much. He wonders if this is what a normal home feels like. It seemed nice.

And he had no idea what to expect

He had charmed socialites aplenty. Knew how to play them like an instrument. Abel knew how to play a person because he had no personal stakes or interests in impressing people on a surface level. With Jonathan's family, it was completely different. There were no backhanded thoughts or snobby assumptions being made of him. It was just a genuine curiosity and-

Well, he was flustered. Shy even. He had never been so out of his element before. And it's probably knew for Jonathan too. To see Abel lose his composure in such an innocent way. A stutter of a greeting and answer before he glances at Jonathan as his sisters hook their arms around his and drag him off to the living room.

This trip was certainly one of firsts. Jonathan never expected to see Abel out of his element like this, it was almost adorable but it spoke volumes of what a simple change in an environment and the people in it could do. All he could really do is softly smile at him before being dragged off.

His sisters excitedly complimented Abel and his good looks as soon as they plopped on the couch, what started off as inspiration ramble quickly turned into asking Abel to model for them some time because he would be absolutely perfect for it to wanting to know more about him. His likes and dislikes, what he did for a living, and if their little brother had done anything to embarrass himself yet.

Of course, the last question catches the attention of his brothers who sneak away from the kitchen to lean off the couch edge because any dirt on their youngest sibling was too good to potentially pass up.

Jonathan is slow to realize what his siblings were up to as he took it upon himself to help his parents find the last few ingredients before noticing all four of them had somewhat surrounded Abel. A sight that never worked in his favor. He seems completely defeated on the thought of what they must have asked before his parents summon everyone to the kitchen to help out with the meal and dessert which usually ends with someone getting dusted in flour.

Its a moment of laughter, jokes, and reminiscing of stories the family wanted to tell Abel because what were guests for if not to embarrass someone. The meal itself equally carried the same energy.

In any other instance, he would possibly preen himself and rise to the conversation. It's the genuine interest and curiosity to learn more about him that catches him by surprise. he was so very used to being asked such questions by people who were just being polite and formal. People who didn't care about what you answered with and he had never answered back honestly because there was no need to. Here though, they wanted to genuinely know things about him.

And there was an issue with that, he was finding. He disliked plenty of things, but it wasn't like he thought about it and those things generally stemmed from his dislike of his father and work. He can't say he had any particular likes either. Abel didn't have any personal hobbies because he didn't have time for them. He absentmindedly wrung his hands as he tried to answer any of the questions; hands still bandaged and fragile (though he had forgotten all about it).

Answering questions about what he did for a living was easier to talk about. Politics and what came with it.

As for stories. Abel had plenty of those. Things like Jonathan accidentally spilling a drink on what was a particularly expensive dress or the one time Jonathan knocked someone into the fountain. While, others probably were far less pleased, Abel had found it quite hilarious. Not that he laughed out loud. That would be dreadful of him!

The meal is wonderful. It was nice. Abel couldn't help but dislike it in someway. Is wasn't anything that they did, but it was being in such a loving environment and seeing a family that wasn't fallen apart like his own. Perhaps he was envious. He wasn't sure. It was a bittersweet feeling.

He merely excuses himself to take a step out to take a smoke. They were a beautiful family and for all them easily including him, he wasn't sure if he belonged there. Abel lights a cigarette and takes a long drag before glancing back at the household as he exhales.

At first, the sisters were slowly beginning to think asking about likes and dislikes wasn't the best first question to ask. They were clearly curious and interested in what Abel had to say when he talked about politics since they weren't completely versed in that sort of thing, especially on Mage terms. The fashion world offered very little a view into such a world.

The siblings ate up Abel's stories about Jonathan messing up on the job, grinning as they looked over at their younger brother. To which Jonathan simply accepts his fate at the ammo Abel just provided them.

Jonathan enjoyed the meal, not so much being the one most picked on by everyone's stories but it allowed for a good time nonetheless. He can't help the pang of worry that maybe all of this was overwhelming to some degree but he doesn't follow as Abel gets up for a smoke, letting him have a breather from being at the table. At some point though, Sayre is the one that gets up and follows after. Smoking wasn't so much a habit of hers but she still kept a pack in a drawer if the need or excuse was there.

"Spare a light?" She asks, holding out a cigarette before leaning against the wall of the house. She's quiet for a moment as she looks up at the sky, "You know... I didn't think I'd get another opportunity to see you again."

It was a long time ago but the two had met before, even if Abel didn't remember. Sayre never did forget that job or having to work for Abel's father once before.

Abel merely holds his lighter out to her. Not to be rude, but the shake in his hand is telling enough that it'll probably be easier for her to just use it than for him to fuss with it with his banged up fingers.

It isn't that he doesn't remember her, but that she was also a distant memory. And memories are very fickle to Abel who had trouble telling what might be his own and what might not be his own. It wasn't like he can experience other memories that weren't his own, but he could barely parse thoughts apart that memories were shaky. That's really just an excuse though. His memories are faulty because he just doesn't remember a lot and what he does remember weren't pleasant. What pleasant (and he remembers every moment of those) memories he does have he cherishes closely because they were so far and few inbetween, but they didn't play in his head like they were his. It was like watching an old, faded film more like.

"I can't say it's surprising that you two would be related." He taps his cigarette absentmindedly. "So why would you want the opportunity to see me in the first place? I was just a dumb kid." He doesn't remember how he was, but just that he spent a lot of time alone if he couldn't be with his mum. "Hardly memorable."

Sayre takes the offered lighter with care, lighting her cigarette before holding it back out towards Abel, "Is it that obvious? The similarity?" She asks.

Out of all the clients she's worked with, young and old, there were a handful that she would never forget and Abel happened to be one of them. His childhood situation wasn't the first she'd seen on the job but it was one that stuck with her for more reasons than one. His mother's words have haunted her for some years now, on and off with the worry that stuck along with it.

She takes a drag of her cigarette before dropping her hand with a smile, "I think you're selling yourself a bit short there. You were quite the little darling back then... though you still have that same sad look in your eyes. Always trailing after your mother whenever you could or helping the staff when they'd let you." She remarks, dropping her gaze from the sky, fiddling with the cigarette between her fingers. "I hear your father is still as much of a dick as when I used to work for him."

Working for a man like that wasn't easy and left a terrible taste in her mouth after that contract was over and dealt with, and now her son was in the same position as she was. "The last time I saw you, your abilities hadn't manifested yet which... would explain a lot." Sayre tilts her head, obviously reminiscing on something Abel's mother once said, that at the time, she didn't quite understand.

"You don't think so?" Abel raises an eyebrow. Maybe they feel similar. Their thoughts don't stray too differently, but he had recalled her being kind. kinder than he usually would have expected someone in the position she was hired for. Perhaps that was merely because he was young and innocent and he didn't understand cruelty yet. He had yet had to suffer so heavily.

Abel takes the lighter back before furrowing his brows. "Isn't that how kids are? Always darling and then they grow up." He doesn't talk about looking sad. He isn't interested in getting personal. Doesn't want to become personal, so he speaks generally. About children and how they're all like that. They grow up to be kind like Jonathan or cold like his father. He doesn't think about always wanting just a bit of attention even if it was from the staff. He doesn't want to talk about himself so vulnerably. "Well, all politicians are. I find that I'm not particularly pleasant during meetings either." Which is also not what she means. Both of them know, but Abel continues to try and not put any of his personal feelings in.

And then he freezes up. He stops breathing and he feels a moment of panic. It shouldn't have come to a shock that Jonathan has told his family about his abilities, but it makes him no less nervous. It wasn't something well known and had been a heavily guarded secret. No one that left staff kept any knowledge of those particulars. Like it was dirty and something that others shouldn't know about him. Abel swallows and finally remembers to breath. Tries to keep himself steady but he's fussing with his cigarette now. "Even if you had known, you wouldn't have gotten to keep those memories," Abel replies carefully.

"I never really gave it much thought, to be honest," Sayre replies with a little shrug. Jonathan didn't live at his parent's home anymore nor was he a part of the organization that his parents and brothers were a part of and regularly saw each other at. So the thought of the two of them being similar never really crossed her mind.

"After raising five of my own and babysitting countless others, not every child is the same. Take them for example, each one of them was a tiny terror and not nearly as well behaved." She says with a huff of a laugh as she motions back to the house before the smile slowly disappears. She's seen children that were well-loved, those in similar situations to Abel, those that were worse off or had a constantly hovering parent that judged their every move.

She almost gets lost in her head trying to remember all those faces, how some grew up to be if she was rehired for a particular contract but she's quick to shake the thought as Abel comments on his father's behavior on being a politician. She only replies with a soft hum as if considering it to be an appropriate answer when they both know it wasn't.

Sayre was more in tune with a body's subtleties than Jonathan due to the level of expectation expected of her so the held breath doesn't go unnoticed, raising a hand up to mean no harm, "Easy. I'm the only one who knows... because I made him tell me more about you... only fairly recently though." She felt the need to both reassure and explain herself, she opens her mouth to speak more but doesn't. Instead a thought rings out, I just wanted to try and understand what your mother once said.

She pushes herself off the wall and takes a few steps forward towards a small table to tap the ashes off into a hardly used ashtray, "You say that like being psychic is a one in a million type of ability. There are more like you than you know." She takes one final drag of the cigarette before putting it out.

There's an almost pained expression when she turns to face him again, "He really sweeps that kind of information under the rug like that?" She pauses, "Every time?"

He bites his tongue on the matter. Perhaps he would have been a little miscreant if he had not so desperately sought his father's approval. Just even a moment of acknowledgement from the man. He had never been his father's favorite. He had never been anyone of interest to his father.

He had merely hoped that he could be good enough that his father with look at him.

A foolish thing to seek, but he wasn't about to talk about that. "Well, it certainly sounds like you didn't love them any less for being as such." He tries to keep his tone neutral. He refuses to let himself be bitter. He had already accepted his father's disdain or so he keeps telling himself.

Abel clutches his cigarette between his thumb and index finger a little too harshly. He feels the slight burn on his fingers and loosens his grip. He swallows and he wonders if it's audible because it sounds so loud in his ears. Only drowned out by her thoughts. Had his mother spoken about him to others? He wasn't privy to such things when he was still young and only showed signs of being an excellent mage.

"I don't know." It isn't said to be belligerent but as probably the most honest statement he has actually said to her. It isn't that he didn't know intellectually. It would be foolish of him to think he's the only one, but it's also hard to feel like he isn't completely alone.

Not when it has done nothing but caused a rift between him and anyone else. "It has never been mine to tell," Abel replies after a moment. The bitterness in his tone is obvious. It was his abilities, but it was never his to speak about. It was something to be hidden away in his father's drawer as medical records or in a contract where the information was never one for someone to keep. His father decided who knew. Who would receive it and who would lose that knowledge.

It didn't feel like it was his even.

Even now. The information had been given to Sayre by Jonathan who had been given such details by his father.

He smiles, but it isn't one of happiness. "It wouldn't be very smart to let just anyone on a trade secret, after all." Because that's what it was to his father. Something of use to further his business.

"I didn't. I always thought that if you brought life into the world, it was your duty as a parent to give your kid unconditional love no matter the circumstance or situation." She says softly, letting the subject drop. They always say your perspective changes once you have children of your own and Sayre never really believed it until the day it actually clicked.

To wipe the memory of such valuable information would have its benefits if you were as high standing at his father was. She gets it. But it doesn't make it any less awful. Every bodyguard being hired, wiped once the contracts were over so such information couldn't be potential sold off or told to someone else's benefit. Jonathan must obviously know those same conditions and yet, even she wonders how that would go now seeing how attached her son was to his charge.

That would be heartbreaking to see at the end of this.

Sayre's heart aches as Abel says that his abilities were never his to tell. She huffs a breath as she brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose, dropping her hand after a few moments, brows furrowed, "It will always be yours first before its anyone else's. Don't let anyone tell you any different especially that man." She says with a bit of a bite in her tone, knowing that was easier said than done especially with how long its been going on for.

There's a bit of a half smile that she gives as she shakes her head, "Trade secret... man I might just end that man myself." She jokes but the thought had always been there since the first day she met Abel's father and maybe she should've followed her gut instinct back then, suffered whatever consequences it might've presented. The past was done and dealt with and there wasn't any use thinking about what could've been.

She walks back to her former spot, tilting her head as she looked in Abel's direction, "You're more than welcome to stay here, ya'know. You don't have to go back there..."

Abel can't help the way he crushes the lit cigarette in his hand. "Do not-" He tries to keep his voice steadied, but he can't help but be irritated with her words. The only thing keeping him grounded is the burning pain he can feel in his fingers. "Do not lecture me. My life has not belonged to me in two decades and I won't have someone tell me I have a luxury I do not have," he says in a harsh and hushed tone.

He watches the crushed cigarette fall to the ground for a moment before he finally bends down to pick it up. It doesn't bother him so much and he doesn't know if that's merely because he's used to the pain or if because his hands still ache, so it all feels the same at this point. "I do not have the freedoms many others probably have. That is how it is." Even if he resented it, there was only so much he could do.

A sigh as he moves to place the ruined cigarette in the ash tray and digs for his box of cigarettes to shake another one out. "He's an old bastard, but he's a powerful old bastard," Abel says with a shrug. He fusses with his lighter before he gets his new cigarette lit. Abel places the new cigarette into his mouth.

And there's a moment where he's quiet before he responds. "It's not that easy. I'm on borrowed time." A fact that makes him somewhat anxious.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

It's been so long I've been using Cain instead of Abel LMAO

whoops on both of us lol

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject