A/N: Wow... it's been a while. I don't even know what to type here. Well, as for the series of events, this takes chapter takes place right after the last. I'd understand if you have to reread the last chapter to know what's happening, haha! Oh yeah, I want to thank you all for the tremendous amount of reviews and notes you leave after reading. Reading through them makes me really motivated to write the next chapters; many of you have left reviews that have helped make each chapter come out. Thanks a lot. :)
NOTE: There will be lotion used in this chapter.
Also, it's not proofread. I'll read through it again in a while.
The next day, Elliot found himself at the hotel's restaurant bar, sighing as he held a drink to his face, enjoying the soothingly cool surface of the glass against his cheek. The wedding was in two days, so last minute preparations were reaching their climax. Everyone was bustling around, carrying ribbons and candles and flowers and dresses and what not. Elliot helped, but for most of it, he just wasn't feeling the excited mood everyone was in. It was kind of funny, actually. He arrived, not knowing what the heck he was doing and what he wanted to do, but now he was quite sure all he wanted to do was lie on his bed and watch mindless television on HBO and eat Chinese take-out until the wedding was over and get back home.
He sighed and brought his drink to lips –
"Elliot's it's only one o'clock."
He jumped in his stool, a bit of his drink dribbling down his shirt. "What the – "
Allison plopped onto the stool beside him, a cheeky smile on her pretty face as she set her bag on the bar counter. The first thing he noticed was her long red hair was now cut to a short bob that curled just below her ears, giving her a more 'innocent' look.
Elliot's eyes widened. "Wow, you cut your hair."
"I was going to say the same thing about you," she said, reaching over to run her hand through his cleanly cropped hair. She smiled and pulled her hand back so she could tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I went back to school, so... time to look a bit more mature and collegiate."
"Same reason for my haircut," Elliot said, shrugging as he scratched the hair behind his ear. "For work and all that. Have to look more presentable and stuff."
Allison nodded. "I guess we've both... matured... since the last time we saw each other."
He took a sip of his drink. "Yeah..."
Elliot was about to comment on the strangely mellow atmosphere – he figured his reunion with Allison would have been a lot more energetic (and louder) – when Allison turned around and pointed at his drink. "Elliot, it's only one o'clock," she repeated, raising her voice. "What are you doing drinking alcohol? Have you suddenly turned into an alcoholic?"
He laughed, relieved to see the Allison he knew from the last time he saw her was still there. He rolled his eyes as he lifted the drink. "Relax, it's only soda."
Allison wrinkled her nose as she reached for the drink and sniffed it. When she realized Elliot was right, she shrugged and took a sip. "Jeez, Elliot, you couldn't even do being an alcoholic right," she muttered, setting the glass back down as she crossed her legs. "So, what brings you to the bar this early?"
"Ugh. Elliot turned away and slumped against the bar counter.
"Hmm..." Allison said, his drink in her hand. She tilted it and watched as the ice sloshed from side to side before giving Elliot a sideways glance. "Could it possibly have to do with... Quinn?"
Elliot paused. "I guess it was kind of predictable."
"Yeah, Quinn's mood has soured considerably ever since you got here."
Elliot did feel himself cheer up at the thought that his presence did affect Quinn in some way. Sure, it wasn't exactly a pleasant kind of way, but he had affected him nonetheless. He sat up and took his drink from Allison's hand and took a sip. He ignored the fact that it was kind of sad that he was actually feeling a bit better over the fact he was annoying Quinn.
"Yeah, we were supposed to go out for drinks last night," Allison said, swivelling around on her stool to face the bar. She drummed her fingers on the counter as her eyes wandered around the restaurant. "But when I went to his room, he said he wasn't in the mood anymore, and bailed on me."
Elliot pressed his lips into a thin line. "Oh..."
"Which brings me to the conclusion that you must have done something," Allison began, her voice a slow drawl as she gave him another sideways glance, the corner of her lips quirking upward. "And you didn't do it right – "
"I hate it."
Allison's eyes widened, taken aback by his interruption. "What? Hate what?"
Elliot licked his lips and frowned, pausing before taking a shallow breath. "I hate... how it's so obvious for you, for everyone," he murmured, his thumb tracing the rim of his glass. "But not for me. I just... it's like, I have a feeling of what I should do, but... I'm not sure if it's the right one, or if there's any point to it anymore, or if... I'm making the right decision or not... or..."
He stopped. He looked up from the bar as he saw someone enter the restaurant. It was the same guy from Quinn's room. He watched as he took a seat at a table and asked for a menu. He was probably having lunch.
Elliot gulped. Maybe Quinn was going to join him any minute now.
His stomach dropped at the thought.
Without finishing his sentence, Elliot downed the last of his soda and fished some money out of his pocket. After paying, he slid off his bar stool and set his feet on the floor before hunching forward. Then he crept toward the other restaurant exit, making sure his head stayed below the level of the bar counter so he wouldn't be seen.
The entire time, Allison was staring at him. "What... exactly are you doing?"
Suddenly remembering he wasn't alone, Elliot glanced up at Allison. "I just saw Quinn's new flatmate enter the restaurant," he whispered, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. He watched as her eyes followed the direction he was pointing at. "So... I'm just going to go now."
Allison let out a small whistle. "Oh, yeah, let me tell you, first time I saw him – "
She looked back at Elliot and only managed to catch him slipping out the exit.
Elliot let out a long exhale as he walked out of the hotel and took a stroll around the park near the pool area. After a few minutes, he found a nice grassy spot and sat down, pulling his legs close so he could rest his elbows on his knees. He watched the kids playing in the pool, some of them the same kids he was seated with just the day before. He reminded himself to make sure to go swimming before he left. Maybe he could get a nice tan.
After a few minutes, he sighed and tilted his head back before lying on the grass, tucking his hands beneath his head to make himself comfortable. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, feeling the warm sun on his cheeks, the cool breeze that swept through his hair, and the rustle of the leaves as the wind passed through their branches.
Elliot was never one for long moments of deep thought. Sometimes it was much easier to just do things rather than spend so much time thinking about it. It wasn't that he was pro-active, no, he was very much attracted to days of lying on his living room couch and not doing anything at all, but thinking too much about things made him uncomfortable. Usually if you thought about something too much, you'd realize there was actually another thing to think about hidden underneath it, and another one after that, and so on, until you're suddenly faced with more things that need to be thought about than the original one that needed to be thought over.
He shook his head. Great, now he was confusing himself.
Elliot ran a hand through his hair. The fact was, he realized that this thing with him and Quinn was something that did need to be thought over. It wasn't that he only realized it when Quinn called him out on it the day before; he knew even before that he needed to go about this whole thing differently. But sometimes people needed to be pulled out denial and Quinn had done just that. Now Elliot was sure he couldn't run on pure instinct and 'do-whatever-it-feels-like-I-should-do-now' momentum anymore. And it scared him. He needed to finally ask himself...
He swallowed nervously.
Exactly what did he feel for Quinn?
He set his hand over his eyes and let out a loud groan, scaring some of the families that were on the way to the pool; the mothers pulling their kids away from the strange man groaning on the grass. But now that the question was finally out there, Elliot felt an odd sense of relief. Like a bit of weight was finally off his shoulders. He figured maybe that's what alcoholics felt, when they finally break away from their denial and admit they have a problem. Not that this issue was in any way parallel to any alcohol problem, but... yeah.
But now that the question was out there... exactly what was the answer to it?
Elliot knew that the very fact the question existed in the first place meant that the way he felt for Quinn now was obviously very different from how he felt for him back when they were sharing a flat... or now that he was thinking about it, maybe he had always felt it but it was only now that he was realizing? Or maybe he was just confusing friendship with something else? So maybe he was just overthinking this entire thing?
He groaned and frustratedly ran his hands through his hair. Why were feelings so hard? Why didn't they come with a compass or any sort of directions or manual on how to do things right?
Elliot sighed and folded his hands behind his head once more. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, to refresh his mind. He thought about that heightened consciousness thing Rosh once talked about as a method for relaxation. He took another deep breath. He thought of the wind rushing through the trees, the prickly grass beneath his hands, the birds chirping a few feet away, the splash of children jumping into the pool...
... When Elliot opened his eyes, the sun had already set.
Oh, damn, he thought. He sat up and almost immediately, he felt a sharp stinging pain spread across his neck and face, like a thousand toothpicks were stabbing his skin.
"Ahhhh!" he yelped, his face stinging even more as his mouth moved. He pulled the collar of his shirt down to see if ants had bitten his neck while he was asleep – but it wasn't ants. His eyes widened when he saw the considerable difference in colour between the skin around his collar and the skin beneath the shirt.
"Oh my God."
He picked himself from the ground, biting his lip to control himself from crying out in pain, and tugged the top of his shirt over his head to cover his face and neck, not caring that he looked like quite the deranged idiot. He raced back to the hotel, ignoring the looks from the other guests and hotel staff as he slipped into an elevator to head to his room. When he ran down the hallway and jerked to a stop in front of his room, he slammed his fist on the door.
"Rosh! Open up!" he hissed, looking around the hallway in case anyone saw him.
There was a long pause on the other side.
"... Who is it?" he heard Rosh ask.
Elliot rolled his eyes. "Who else? It's me! Elliot!"
"Oh, jeez, don't scare me like that then. I thought it was No Country for Old Men all over again."
Elliot heard Rosh pull the lock away on the other side of the door before opening it. "I was just about to go out for Chinese – oh my God, why are you a tomato?"
Without saying anything, Elliot slipped into the room and headed straight for the bathroom. He flicked on the light switch and stopped dead when he saw himself in the mirror.
"Oh my God," he repeated.
Tomato was an exaggeration, he thought. His entire face, neck, and the part around his collarbone was more of a cooked salmon colour, maybe even a few shades lighter than that. Although looking more like a salmon than a tomato didn't exactly make him feel any better. He would have preferred not to look like any piece of food. He let out a small whimper when he noticed his teeth and the whites of his eyes now looked much whiter against his face.
From the mirror, he saw Rosh slowly step into the bathroom, like he wasn't sure if Elliot was going to blow up at any second. Rosh cleared his throat. "What..." He paused, looked to the side and cleared his throat once more, and looked back at Elliot. "So, uh, what... exactly happened?"
Elliot slowly brought a hand up to his face and winced when he pressed a finger against his burning cheek. "I... I fell asleep," he muttered. "Under the sun."
Rosh nodded, like it was the most logical thing in the world. "Right..."
He let a few seconds pass. "And... why...?"
Elliot whimpered once more. "I don't even know anymore," he said, dropping his head and setting his hands on the counter. "Vomit spewing baby, salmon coloured sunburn... someone up there hates me. I know it."
Pressing his lips together, Rosh walked up to Elliot and stood beside him by the sink counter. They looked at each other from the mirror, the drone of the vent filling the bathroom.
"So... I'm guessing you're not in the mood for sweet and sour pork," Rosh said slowly. "Considering... you know, you're just about... the same colour."
Elliot shot Rosh a glare. "Really? Really? I'm like this and those are your words of encouragement?"
Rosh ducked away to avoid Elliot's shove, wiping tears from his eyes as he laughed. "Alright, alright," he said, gathering his breath. He cleared his throat and walked back to Elliot. "Well... let's splash some water on your face then. It's supposed to help lessen the pain."
After a few minutes of deciding what to do, they manoeuvred over to the bathtub and positioned Elliot so he was holding onto the bathtub edge, his head hung over the side of the tub so he wouldn't get wet as Rosh poured water on his neck using one of the glasses they brushed their teeth with.
"The water is supposed to run down the side of your face first," Rosh said slowly, holding the glass of water over Elliot's head. "Or, at least, that's how I'm imagine it'll happen."
"Get on with it," Elliot muttered. He just wanted the burning sensation to go away. "Just go."
Rosh poured water over the back of Elliot's neck, and Elliot sighed as the water ran down his skin and dripped onto the tub. Every part of his sunburnt skin that the water washed over felt like it was sizzling with relief as moisture seeped back into the pores. They repeated it a couple of times, each time Elliot tilting his head a different angle so water could slide over other parts of his neck and face, until they heard a knock on the door – and then the small creak of the door opening.
"You left your door open – " said a voice nearing the bathroom entrance.
They both looked up, Elliot hunched over the tub, Rosh hunched over him with a glass of water in his hand.
Quinn stared back at them.
Seconds passed where both parties were at a loss of what to do. A drop of water fell onto the tub, breaking the silence, and Elliot and Rosh scrambled away from each other, the water sloshing out of Rosh's glass and spilling all over the floor, Elliot grabbing one of the face towels folded by the tub, and Quinn staying where he was at the bathroom entrance, staring at them the entire time. Elliot wrapped the towel around his face so that only his eyes would show and stumbled toward Quinn, stopping just in front of him.
"H-Hey," he said, standing up straight, one hand holding the towel together while the other waved. "W-why are you here?"
Quinn narrowed his eyes at him. "Valerie wants us to share the ride to the church for the wedding," he said, his voice even and not betraying any sort of emotion, despite the commotion beforehand. "So I'll need your number."
Elliot blinked. Then he quickly shoved his free hand into his pocket for his phone. "Oh, okay – "
"No, I'll take your room mate's number."
He looked up to see Quinn's eyes away from him, but at Rosh. Elliot realized Quinn probably didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore, so he didn't want his number. Okay, that was understandable. Meanwhile, Rosh set his glass down on the sink counter. "Oh, okay, sure, it's on my bed," he said, nervously glancing at Elliot before hurriedly stepping around him to slip out of the bathroom.
Quinn followed after him and Elliot was left alone in the bathroom. It hit him that he had been holding his breath the entire time, so he let out a long exhale, his shoulders relaxing. He took a step out of the bathroom, unravelling the towel around his face, and watched as Rosh and Quinn exchanged numbers. When they were done, he gnawed on his bottom lip as Quinn walked past him and headed for the exit. He watched as Quinn pulled it open and took one step out – but stopped, one hand still holding onto the door.
Elliot glanced at Rosh, who only shrugged. "Uh, Quinn – "
"I have an ointment," Quinn said, keeping his face away from Elliot's view. "For your face."
Elliot flushed, although it probably wasn't all that obvious considering how red his face already was. Beneath his shirt, he could feel his heart racing just a bit faster. "Oh, uh, thanks," he murmured. "I'll... go to your room to get it – "
"No, I'll come back with it."
With that, Quinn stepped out of the room and closed the door.
Half an hour or so later, Rosh had left to buy food, leaving Elliot alone. As he waited for Quinn to come back, he sat on the edge of his bed and watched the evening news to calm his nerves. But when he heard the knock on the door, he nearly slipped off the edge of the bed in surprise. He stayed where he was and turned toward the door, as if making sure he hadn't imagined it. But when he heard another one, he took a deep breath and rested the towel around his shoulders as he walked toward the door.
When he opened it, he found Quinn outside, looking at Elliot with obvious irritation in his green eyes. At the back of his mind, Elliot wondered why he was still bothering to do this if he was so irritated. Quinn raised his hand and held a white tube of ointment out. "Here."
Elliot stared down at it. It didn't look like an over-the-counter ointment anyone could buy at the drugstore, since it just had a simple white exterior with long chemical names printed on it in a small font. It was probably something straight out of the hospital, which Quinn would probably have access to since he was a med student now... if that's how things worked.
He took it from Quinn's hand. "Thanks."
Quinn turned to leave when Elliot suddenly remembered something. He stuck his head out the door and called after him. "Quinn – wait!"
He stopped and turned back to him. "What?"
Elliot lowered his eyes. "I... uh, I got you something," he mumbled, playing with the tube of ointment in his hands, shifting it from one hand to the other. "Um, yeah, wait, I'll get it, come in."
He slipped back inside the room and hurried over to his bag, flipping it open and rummaging through the contents to find what he had gotten Quinn. He was too occupied with his search, throwing his clothes over his shoulder, that he didn't notice Quinn still at the entrance of his room, a look of subtle hesitation on his face, almost unsure if he wanted to step into the room and follow Elliot or not. Finally, he stepped inside, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Here it is!" Elliot announced, pulling a crumpled carrier bag out from underneath some socks. He stood up straight and handed it to Quinn.
Quinn narrowed his eyebrows as he took the carrier bag from Elliot's hands, almost like he wasn't sure if he should accept it or not. Slowly, he slipped a hand inside and pulled out a bottle of lavender lotion.
"I... uh, I remembered how much you like lavender," Elliot began, watching Quinn's face for any sort of reaction. "So... yeah."
When Quinn still hadn't said anything, Elliot stepped back and plopped onto the edge of his bed. "Do... do you like it?" he asked, a touch of uneasiness at the edge of his question. "I mean, I only got it at the airport, so maybe it's not that great, but I figured... uh, it would be... a gift?"
Quinn held the lotion in his hand and a subtle flash of emotion flickered in his eyes before he slipped it back in its crumpled bag. "You're horrible at gifts."
Elliot cringed. "Yeah, sorry – "
"But thank you," he finally said, glancing at Elliot for a brief second before turning away again, a slight redness clouding above his cheekbones.
Elliot flushed too. He felt even more nervous now. He needed to do something with his hands, so he cleared his throat. "Uh, is... is this how you put it on?" he stammered, twisting the cap off the ointment tube and squeezing a liberal amount onto the palm of his hand.
He raised it to his face to rub the ointment on his cheek when an indignant looked crossed over Quinn's face. He set the carrier bag on the table and hastily walked over to Elliot and took a seat beside him on the edge of bed. "You don't squeeze half of it on your hand and rub it all over your face like a child," he rebuked, yanking the tube of ointment from Elliot's hand and pulling the other hand with the ointment toward him. "You're going to use everything right away and waste it."
Elliot watched as Quinn dabbed the tip of his fingers into the ointment on Elliot's palm. He held his fingers out in front of Elliot. "You're supposed to squeeze a small amount, this much, and rub it over your face."
Elliot wasn't prepared as Quinn suddenly brought his hand to his face and felt his fingers brush along his cheek. He felt his breath catch; his entire body stiffened. Despite the cold ointment, Elliot felt like his face was burning all over again every time Quinn moved his fingers along his skin. He widened his eyes, and shivers ran down his back, but he moved his eyes away from Quinn's face, his hands clenching atop his lap. When the first amount ran out, Quinn dabbed his fingers back into the ointment on Elliot's hand and used his other hand to tilt Elliot's face away from him so he could apply some onto the side of his neck.
It wasn't even that Quinn was doing it seductively; in fact, he was rubbing it kind of hard, like a mother rubbing sunscreen over her child who's fidgeting too much because he wants to jump into the pool already. Maybe that's how Quinn would be in his doctor-mode, completely forgetting who Elliot was and was treating him like he would a future, clueless patient. But at some point, Quinn was shifting away from his doctor-mode and onto something entirely different. Elliot could feel the change against his skin. The strokes started to feel gentler, his fingers pressing lighter against Elliot's cheek. Elliot glanced at Quinn and noticed the concentrated look in his furrowed eyebrows, but while the irritation was still present in his green eyes, there was a softer touch to it now.
Quinn's fingers traced along the bridge of Elliot's nose and brushed slowly over the line of his cheekbones. Elliot wasn't sure if the ointment was working at all, since his skin felt like it was on fire, especially the parts where Quinn's fingers had swept over. His heart was beating so hard, he was thankful he wasn't burnt anywhere over his chest otherwise Quinn would know if he ran his fingers over it.
But after a while, it seemed like Quinn finally caught himself. His hand stopped against Elliot's cheek. Slowly, Elliot turned to face him, noticing the wide, dazed expression in his green eyes – right before he jerked his hand away, his face almost as red as Elliot's sunburnt skin. He watched as Quinn's hand balled into a fist over his lap, almost like he was scolding himself or controlling himself from doing something.
Not wanting to fall into an even more uncomfortable situation, Elliot blurted out, "How's med school?"
Quinn glanced at him, the redness on his cheeks slowly receding. He looked away again and Elliot wasn't sure if he was going to answer until he murmured, "It's busy."
That was all the reply Elliot needed to start nervously rambling on about his job. He wasn't even sure how long he was talking or what he had been talking about until he suddenly found himself talking about a cartoon he last saw on television. He gulped. Exactly how did he get to talking about that?
A long uncomfortable pause set in, until Quinn asked, "But you enjoy going to those events?"
Elliot couldn't even remember mentioning anything about events. It hit him that despite his rambling, and even though Quinn hadn't said anything the entire time, he had actually been listening. Maybe he always listened, even though he never said anything.
"Uh... yeah, I... uh, I meet a lot of new people and stuff."
He felt like he had run out of things to say, so he bit his lip and look down, so they both weren't facing each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Quinn's shoulders rise and fall as he breathed. He watched as Quinn closed his eyes and let out a slow, weary breath.
A cold shiver ran down Elliot's back. "W-what?"
Quinn's fists shook on his lap. Suddenly, he got up, moving away as if to leave the room, and Elliot almost got up to follow him out – but he jerked back, turning around to look down at Elliot. "Not even one call – the entire time, not one call!" he said, raising his voice and holding one finger up at Elliot. "You couldn't even give me that?"
Elliot blinked. "W-what – "
"Okay, fuck, sure," Quinn threw his hands up in the air as he paced around the room. "Maybe I wouldn't have answered or I would have just told you to just fuck off – but fuck, you could have just tried once, you know? Once!"
The pieces fitted together in Elliot's mind, and when the puzzle was complete, he looked up at Quinn. "But I did call you!"
Quinn stopped and stared down at him, a disbelieving look in his green eyes. "When?"
Elliot clasped his hands together. "Three... well, almost four months after I left," he said, dropping his voice, suddenly feeling very embarrassed and unable to look at Quinn. "I... I asked Allison for your number, and I called and..."
He took a deep breath and decided to just let everything go. "And your flat mate answered and I didn't think I needed to call again after it because it looked like everything was great, and I thought I'd only bother you if I tried asking how you were, because it seemed like everything was pretty good for you and I didn't want you to get annoyed by me anymore."
Quinn stared at him. "What?"
Elliot bit his lip. "Your flat mate... I assumed, you know," Elliot was pretty sure his ears were a shade redder than they already were. He linked his fingers together, like how kids did. "That you guys were happy... and uh, together."
"You think me and my flat mate are together?"
Elliot thought about the half naked guy he had seen in Quinn's room the day before. Yeah, it wasn't exactly out of the realm of possibility that Quinn would be attracted to someone like that... but from the look on Quinn's face now, he wasn't so sure.
"What, so you assume I just end up liking every guy I share a flat with?" Quinn shot back, an angry, accusing tone in his voice.
If Elliot had been a more observant guy, he would have picked up a number of conclusions from Quinn's rhetorical question. But seeing as he wasn't, he cleared his throat and all he thought about was if it was alright if he could point out himself as an example. "Well, you know..."
"Do you think I'm some frivolous person who just goes around liking anybody?"
A part of the accusing tone in Quinn's voice had faded, replaced with what Elliot thought sounded almost like he was offended, maybe even hurt. Elliot's throat grew dry, and before he could control himself, he asked, "So... so it was just... me?"
Now it was time for Quinn's green eyes to widen, as if he hadn't expected Elliot to suddenly be forward about it. His mouth shut, and he took a step back, and Elliot saw as the blush seeped back onto Quinn's face, over the bridge of his nose and his high cheekbones, up to the tips of his ears. He opened his mouth, maybe to say something –
Until they heard the door unlock and Rosh walked in, holding up cartons of Chinese takeout as the smell wafted into the room. "I got lemon chickeeeeeen!" he announced, holding the food up with both hands as he kicked the door closed behind him. "And some rolls, moo shu pork, and Quinn, do you eat tofu? You seem like a healthy looking guy, and I didn't know if you were a vegetarian, so I got some for you – "
Without even bothering to reply, Quinn turned around, walked past Rosh, and left the room. Rosh's arms dropped as he watched him."Hey, where are you – " But as Quinn closed the door behind him, he shrugged and walked over to the table. "Alright then, more for me."
He turned back to Elliot, holding up a fortune cookie. "So, what happened?" he asked, before cracking it open and popping the cookie into his mouth. The room was filled with the loud crunching sound of his chewing. "Progress?"
Elliot noticed that Quinn had left his gift behind. He swallowed. At the same time, it felt like his body was recovering from something because he suddenly felt incredibly lightheaded and the room felt considerably cooler now. He fell back on the bed, stretching his arms out on both sides.
"I... I don't really know."
A/N: I told you there would be lotion. TROLOLOL. XD
I don't really know how to explain my long absence other than... life, uni, and for a while, I lost that urge to write. I think I'm slowly picking it up again though. :)
To the milk bottle,
I have to say, my Oreos have been considerably lonely without your creamy, white presence. The 'dunk' after my 'twist, lick, and' has been missing and I found my life feeling incredibly incomplete, like my life lost all sort of meaning because I couldn't eat my Oreos properly.
Your calcium deficient friend,
Thank you for reading! Please leave a note! Don't read and run, hahaha! :)