Nicos pov
Trigger warnings: mentions of self harm, mentions of eating disorder, self loathing a bit
—
(Day 5)

Waking up in Will's bed was still a surprise, even after 5 days.

The beds at the hospital were stiff and too firm to be comfortable. They were cold, no matter how long you spent under the covers, and smelt of cheap lemon laundry detergent and bleach. The sheets were starchy, and the pillow provided was flat. No matter how you slept, you woke up with a sore back, neck, and shoulders.
The bed wasn't even the worst part; the room was never completely dark, you had to share with someone who might snore or sleep talk, you always woke up to the smell of questionable food from the cafeteria and antiseptic, and for some unknown reason, you never feel warm. Nothing felt homely. Every room was foreign, white, and scrubbed clean.

I know- I know- that I wasn't in the hospital as some sick form of torture. I know Jenny admitted me to keep me safe. I know that the hospital can be really beneficial for some people, and completely turn their lives around. I know that, if I had been admitted in different circumstances, in a different frame of mind, it could have helped me.
But it didn't happen under different circumstances, so I hated it. I hated everything. I hated all of my memories of the place. Even the things that could be considered positive: the friendly staff, the friends, the activities and the hospitality- were tainted in my mind. I was never relaxed, save a few times. I was constantly teetering at the edge of fight or flight, so anyone who was being genuinely kind or responsive was perceived as a threat. Every gentle word sounded pitying or condescending. Every worried glance was a poorly disguised glare. Everyone was out to to get me, or upset me, or purposefully piss me off.

Which, obviously, looking back on it in a relaxed state, was just untrue. I was just so on edge I considered everything as danger!!!!

Will's room was the opposite of a hospital room.

His bed was soft, worn in, and piled with blankets, so it warmed up in record time. The pillows were filled to the brim with feathers and smelt like vanilla and.. like Will. His bed enveloped you like a hug, and when I slept in it, I didn't feel uncomfortable, or out of place, or uneasy. I felt safe. I felt safe in Will's space. I felt like I belonged.
I rarely slept over at Will's apartment before... the incident... but now, I wondered how I ever got a full nights sleep without it. Why I didn't beg to stay over every night.
I didn't understand how I dealt with an aching body when I woke up at the hospital. How I didn't gag at the smell of my hospital room as soon as I woke, because my room didn't smell like freshly brewed coffee and Will's cologne.

The hospital, in my warped state of mind, was foreign and horrible and wrong.
Will's apartment was familiar and warm and right.

I rolled over slowly, in absolutely no rush at all, because there was no chatty nurse forcing me out of bed. I lifted my arms above my head and pointed my toes and stretched, sighing as my spine cracked and loosened.
I peeled my sleep-crusted eyes open after a well rested night.

The room was glowing softly; natural, yellow light bleeding through Will's cheap blinds. Dust danced into the slices of light and out again. The hospital didn't have a lot of dust. Everything at the hospital was so clean.

I rubbed my eyes roughly, scraping the sleep out of my tear ducts with my nails. I cracked my knuckles. I adjusted to consciousness.

And then I realized how silent the apartment was.
In the past five days, I hadn't been alone once. Will or Cecil were always somewhere in the apartment, doing their own thing or doing something with me (which was usually just eating a meal or watching tv), so I was accustomed to their sounds. Cecil in the bathroom, because he showered every morning, or Will making coffee in the kitchen. The sound of their individual footsteps, or the tv playing, or music following them around the apartment. Cutlery against ceramic dishes and keys jingling. They always made noise.

Which was why silence was strange.

I sat up slowly and peered around the room. Will, obviously, wasn't in bed with me, but in his place, on his creased pillow, sat a neon pink sticky note.
I peeled it off and pulled it into my lap to read.

Morning neeks!!! I had to cover a 5-11am shift this morning because I called in sick the other day. Cecil will be there till 10:30, but I'll be home as soon as possible!

I sighed, tossing the sticky note back onto the bed and flopping onto my back.

I sat back up, checking the digital alarm clock on Will's desk. The red numbers glowed 10:37.

I flopped back again. I must have woken up as soon as Cecil left, the sound of the front door closing subconsciously stirring me.

So I was alone. That was weird. I hadn't been completely alone in... a long time. Not since before-the-hospital.

I curled onto my side, grabbing Will's pillow and hugging it to my chest. I held it tightly, breathing deeply. Now was not a time to panic. I could be alone. It was fine.
Still curled up, I plucked the sticky note off of the comforter and looked at it again. The nickname, the extra exclamation points. 5:00-11:00 shift. And it took him about 10 minutes to walk home from work. I would only be alone for 45 minutes at the most, and it was already- I glanced at the clock again- 10:40.

I turned on my other side, facing the wall, still holding Will's pillow. It was the closest thing to waking up next to him.

Oh, yeah. That was a development. Sleeping next to Will- right next to him.
I thought I would hate the closeness of it after the first night. That I would've felt uncomfortable with the contact (and there was a lot of contact) or that it would've been embarrassing, but it was just... normal. It was really normal.
It was also really nice. I rejected human contact for months, despite the odd hugs from Jenny and Carmen.
Crawling into Will's bed at night, knowing that I was going to be able to touch him without question or complaint, was thrilling. During the day, I avoided it. I think it had to do with seeing his face- which was horrible, I know- but the thought of seeing what was on his face was terrifying. No matter the emotion. Because Will almost always wore his emotions on his sleeve.
When I curled into his chest, or wrapped my arm around his waist, or tangling our legs, my heartbeat sped up to the pace of the intense vocaloid music I heard through Cecil's earbuds the other day (although he'd never admit to it).
When I did those things, the room was pitch black. I couldn't see what he was feeling- good or bad.
Of course, if he told me to stop, I would. But he never did. He wouldn't initiate anything, but as soon as I crowded his space, moving his arm around me, he would pull me close and hug me in earnest. Or hold my hand. Or draw circles on my back or waist.
He never said anything, never asked, and just... held me. Or I held him, depending on the way he decided to sleep.

Then, in the morning, one of us would wake up and slowly disentangle, not mentioning whatever position we ended up in- whether one of us woke up with our heads on the other's chest, or if one of our shirts rode up in our sleep, or if we were so hopelessly entwined that it took both of us to separate.

I hoped he didn't mind. He didn't say anything, but I hoped to god he wasn't staying quiet for my sake. I didn't want to take advantage of him, but I also... I needed that contact after everything. Even if I was still too alienated to do anything during the day, when it was real.

I rolled back onto my back and tossed away Will's pillow. Why was I acting like this? It was like I was crushing all over again. I mean, I wasn't sure if we were still together, so technically it could be that. I kind of felt like I was betraying myself. The person who swore not to go back to Will ever again.
But I was in his bed, so there wasn't much I could do about that now.

I sat up again, rolling my neck and cringing at the deep cracks that echoed through the silent room. Will probably made me breakfast and expected me to eat it before he got back. I didn't want to upset him, and have him call Jenny on me.

I brought the sticky note with me to the bathroom and stuck it to the mirror as I freshened up, splashing my face with cold water and brushing my teeth.
When I caught myself staring at my reflection for too long, I glanced at the sticky note and blinked rapidly, snapping myself out of my trance.
Maybe I should get Will to leave me sticky notes when he leaves more often. I couldn't text him, so having some of his words with me was comforting.

After one more once over in the mirror, I decided to leave my bandages until Will came home. I didn't want to pull myself into an unnecessary spiral, especially without Will at home to ground me. Plus, I still hadn't learned how to wrap it myself, and I didn't want to fuck up somehow.
Also, if I changed the bandages myself, I'd have to look at my handiwork, which was something I've avoided since the first day. When the bandages were off, I closed my eyes around any mirror.
I was being proactive, I think. I was keeping myself from doing self destructive things. That was good.

I pulled the sticky note off the mirror, turned out the light, and took it with me to the kitchen.
It was still weird, the apartment being completely silent. I didn't have a phone or laptop to play music from either.

I wordlessly thanked Will and Cecil for still having a cable tv.

With the sticky note stuck to my thumb on one hand, I used the other to click the tv on so that there was sound. I immediately relaxed, padding over to the kitchen, not needing to flick the light on. The apartment had great natural light in the mornings.

Another neon sticky note, orange this time, caught my eye. It was stuck on the counter top, rather than the fridge where grocery lists and a calendar would have distracted me.
Almost excitedly, I picked it up to see what it said.

If you're not awake before Cecil leaves, please eat breakfast! It's in the microwave (sorry, we ran out of eggs)!! I'll be home soon!!

I scrunched my nose and tried not to smile. My thoughts may be betraying me, but I didn't need my actions to join in.

I stuck both sticky notes side by side on the counter and clicked open the microwave. Inside held a plate of hash browns and two pieces of turkey bacon. I poked the food and found it wasn't exactly warm. I shut the microwave and pressed the buttons to let it warm up.
I noticed, beside the sink, a bowl of grapes. Probably meant for me. I ignored them, and instead pulled out a bowl and poured some fruit loops into it, skipping the milk. When the microwave beeped, I grabbed a fork and placed it on the plate with the food. I shoved the bowl onto the plate next to everything and peeled off the sticky notes, ready to move to the living room. I made eye contact with the grapes. Stared them down.

I plucked one out and threw it in my mouth, so that I didn't feel guilty. Then I brought my breakfast to the couch.

I sat cross legged on the couch, Will's sweatpants swamping me, and balanced the plate of food on my lap. I picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on it as I started flipping through channels. I was finished both pieces of bacon before finally settling on HGTV, because cable tv sucks. I didn't mind much; watching house flips was mindless and easy. Plus, it was fun to judge their choices.

Once I finished the food from Will, I started to pick at my dry cereal. I think it was becoming my comfort food.
No, it was definitely becoming my comfort food.

I looked outside through the windows behind the tv. It looked so nice out. A perfect fall day. I bet it was warm. I wonder if Will would let me go to a park before it got cold again.

I really was trying. Well, I think I was. I was definitely doing more than I have in months. Because maybe, if I could get better here at Will's, I could prove to Jenny that I didn't have to go back to the hospital. If I took all stressors away, life wasn't too bad, was it? Or at least, right now it wasn't. Bianca had been quiet since I woke up. So, you know, that was definitely something worth looking forward too.

A couple days ago, when Will let me borrow his computer (which was super weird- I hadn't used technology in months) I researched what I could use as coping mechanisms. For when I felt really... bad... or anxious, or if I wanted to hurt myself. I'm sure Will and Cecil would find them weird, but if they worked, did it really matter? I didn't want to add stress to their lives, so I had to keep an eye on myself. Find ways to keep myself preoccupied and grounded. Some of the things seemed pointless, but a few proper websites recommended chewing ice, pressing it to my skin or squeezing it as both a grounding technique and distraction. Keeping a rubber band on my wrist and snapping it to stay present. Writing out my thoughts, like I used to when I was still at the foster home. Cleaning. Long baths. Relearning Italian. That would be funny. I mean, I still remember basics and some phrases, but it would be cool to be fluent again. I haven't spoken it in... a long time. And it was my first language...

I must have been thinking for longer than I realized, because I was brought back to reality by the sound of keys in the door. I turned around just in time to see Will burst through the door, panting. He looked around the apartment in a quick scan, looking particularly anxious, before meeting my eyes.

He visibly relaxed- shoulders dropping, tension leaving his face- and kicked the door shut behind him.

I raised an eyebrow at his dramatic entrance. Will said nothing as he slumped over to me, dropping his bag and flopping onto the other side of the couch in a heap.
He was probably worried about me being home alone, but I didn't mention it.

He looked over my empty dishes on the coffee table. Avoiding my eyes, he handed me a Starbucks cup that I didn't notice when he came in. I took it from him carefully and opened the lid.
Hot chocolate. With whipped cream. How was I supposed to be upset with him?

I took a grateful sip.

"You look cheery," I said into my cup. The bags under Will's eyes were deep.

"You know me, I love waking up at 4:30 in the morning to work a 6 hour shift," Will sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"I didn't even know Starbucks was open that early," I frowned.

"Close at 12:00am, open at 5:00am. Since it's basically a campus Starbucks, they gotta cater to students needs. I'm just glad I usually work afternoon shifts and not the late night ones," Will tugged on his hair. He finally looked over at me, raking his eyes up and down, making sure I was actually in front of him. I would have blushed if it weren't for his completely pure intentions.
"But this morning my schedule didn't overlap with Cecil's, and..."

He didn't have to finish the sentence. I could tell as soon as he bust through the front door. He was still afraid to leave me at home. He was afraid that if he left me alone, he would come back and I wouldn't be here.

"You can't expect it to always work out perfectly, you and Cecil have completely different school and work lives," I reassured quietly, "plus. Uh. I liked the sticky notes. It was weird being alone, but um. The sticky notes helped," I mumbled somewhat awkwardly.
It was worth it, to tell him that, by the way his tired eyes lit up.

"Really? I just thought, since I can't text you, I could write you what I would text you, and like-"

"Yeah, it was good. It got me up and out of bed and stuff, so. Er, thanks," I played with the sticker on my Starbucks cup and avoided his eyes. I may have been quiet, but I hoped Will realized I was genuine.

"Anyways, I'm back now..." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Will clock the few fruit loops left in my bowl on the table and chuckle to himself, but he didn't mention it, "I have a lecture at 3:00 and I work from 4:30-7:30, but Cecil will be back before I leave."

"Ok, cool," I nodded, sipping my hot chocolate. I wasn't disappointed that it was one of his busier days. I wasn't.

"But uh, well, I gotta go grocery shopping, and I wanted to get back right after work- so I didn't end up getting anything, and well," Will cleared his throat, "I was wondering if you were comfortable enough to go with me? Grocery shopping?"

I froze my sip of hot chocolate. I had only left the apartment once since I arrived, and it was at night to grab fruit loops from the convenience store, less than a block away. But it was dark. No one could recognize me. Today was sunny and it looked so warm and bright-

Yes. I wanted to go.

"I really want to go," I blurted, and cringed at my word choice, scrunching my nose.

"Really?" Will asked, as if he did not expect that answer.

"I mean, I just gotta make sure I'm not recognized by anyone who's seen me on the local news station, right?" I asked, reaching up to tug at my bandages.
Subconsciously, Will reached forward and pushed my hand away.

"How'd you find out about that?" Will winced, looking over at the tv.

"Will, I've done nothing but sit in the apartment with the tv on for five days. I saw the news," I rolled my eyes, putting my drink down and picking up my dishes.
Will stood up and followed me to the kitchen,

"True. I mean, we just put you in clean clothes and a hat and sunglasses and no one will know, right?"

"Like a spy," I snorted, putting my dishes in the sink. I'll wash them later.

"Right," Will laughed along. I turned around, and saw that he had brought my hot chocolate with him. He passed it to me. I tried not to feel anything. "I'm guessing you haven't changed your bandages, right?"

"No, I wanted to wait for you," I looked down at my drink. I felt needy. I could definitely do it on my own at this point.

"Yeah, it's better that way," Will smiled genuinely, wiping away my previous thoughts, "c'mon, let's go change them out."

-

Will changed my bandages like clockwork, telling me the scars were healing well (because I wouldn't look myself) and then pulled out clothes. As long as I rolled the pant bottoms (multiple times) and belted the waist, I could wear his black jeans, and he had a few of my own T-shirt's from home (he blushed, when he handed me one). Only once I was dressed, did we realize a problem.

"Oh, shit," Will looked me up and down. I tried not to feel self conscious. I was wearing one of his baseball caps and his jean jacket (which he somehow got the blood out of), and I thought, for someone multiple inches shorter than him and a couple sizes smaller, I looked pretty good.

"What?" I asked defensively, tugging on the jacket sleeve.

"Neeks, the bandages. Um. People will probably... notice them. And then try to see your face," Will rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, shit," I agreed, pulling the stupid hat off my head. I guess I couldn't go. Even if I wore a hoodie like I did a couple nights before, you could see the bandages. At least before it was nighttime.

"Wait, I think I have a turtleneck!" Will exclaimed, grabbing my hand and pulling me back to his room.

He dug through his closet until he pulled out a black turtle neck. I never really liked turtle necks, because I didn't really like the feeling of things around my neck. Both my father and Caleb choked me on several occasions. They weren't nice memories, but after days of bandages, I was used to the feeling.

"Change into this! It should cover the bandages completely! And if it's too thin, you can just through your T-shirt back on top! Layering looks cool anyways!" Will smiled and left me with the shirt.

I put it on, carefully fitting it over the bandages. I looked in Will's small mirror and decided that yes, the fabric was too thin, and shrugged my shirt over it. After putting Will's Jean jacket back on, and placing the cap over my hair... I looked normal. Like a normal teenager.
I mean, technically I was an adult, but I was kinda small. Teenager worked best.

I joined Will in the living room again. This time, when he looked me up and down, it wasn't for anxiety-quelling reasons, and I felt myself blush. Ugh.

"Y-you look great! Um," Will laughed awkwardly, pointing at a pair of checkered slip on vans on the ground, "I found a pair of vans in Cecil's closet. They should fit you, I think."

I slipped the vans on. They were about half a size too big, but not enough to be noticeable. I could probably walk normally in them.

"Ready to go?" Will asked, already at the door. He opened the door for me.

We took the stairs (Will immediately walked towards them, remembering, of course) and left the building side by side.

As soon as I stepped outside, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Breathing in the fresh (as fresh as New York can be) air. The sun hit my skin without the buffer of a window. A breeze tickled the back of my neck. A dog barked.

I opened my eyes, and remembered that in New York, people were everywhere.

A person bumped my arm as they walked past. Instinctively, I reached out for Will, blindly searching for something to hold on to.
Will chuckled, slipping a warm hand into mine, instantly grounding me.
I looked up at him, peering through my dark sunglasses. He was smiling (affectionately?) at me.

"Haven't been out on the streets in a while, huh?" He asked, squeezing my hand. He wasn't making fun of me, I reminded myself.
He was right, of course. I've lived in New York for years. I used to walk these busy streets every day. Now, though, I wasn't used to it. It was sort of overwhelming.

"Heh, no," I mumbled, looking down at the ground. Noticing my loss of words, Will pulled me along with him, starting down the street.

Even though I was supposed to be making myself invisible to anyone who might recognize me, I was clinging to Will's arm like a lost child and gazing around at the few and very far between orange trees. Will lead me down the side walk, swinging reusable shopping bags.
I couldn't get over how fresh air felt on my skin. When I ran to Will's apartment a few night ago, I was so out of it that I barely registered what was happening around me. Now I could take it all in.

I noticed, belatedly, after a couple stares, that Will and I probably looked like a happy couple, the way I was clinging to him. I wanted to relax my grip- I really did- but there were a lot of people, and I was afraid that if I let go, we might get separated.

Will must have lead us to the closest supermarket, because before I knew it, he was opening a door for me. I nodded at him and slipped inside, waiting for him to step up beside me before going anywhere.
Clingy much...

"Ok, Neeks!" Will clapped his hand and pulled out the shopping list from the fridge out of his pocket, "we gotta get basic stuff like eggs and milk and bread, some fruit and vegetables, some more soup just in case, uhhhh," Will read off the paper- which, looking closer, looked like it was ripped out of a notebook- and grabbed one of the small carts.

"More fruit loops!" I chimed in, taking my- Will's- sunglasses off. Will rolled his eyes, but he was smiling,

"Yes, yes. More fruit loops, how could I forget," he leaned on the cart and started to push it to the produce section.

I stuck close to him, refraining from grabbing the hem of his shirt whenever someone stepped too close to me. He grabbed apples, celery, carrots, green beans, and randomly, a cantaloupe. He also picked up onions, potatoes, spinach (to my distaste) lettuce, and tomatoes.
Will explained that he was afraid to cook most meat, so that their apartment was vegetarian a lot of the time. Nonetheless, he grabbed turkey sandwich meat and more bacon at the deli. I also spied the words 'chicken nuggets' on his list, which was pretty exciting.

He had me take over the cart after a few near-bumps with other people, and it became a bit of a shield for me. He grabbed eggs, oat milk and bread, like he said.

"Do you like yogurt?" Will asked over his shoulder, staring at a wall of dairy, a block of butter in his hand.

"It's alright, not my favourite," I shrugged, "I'd rather have-"

"Fruit loops, I know," Will grabbed a block of cheese and turned to me, grinning widely. When he ducked forward to place the two items in the front basket, I kinda expected him to kiss me on the cheek.
When that didn't happen, I had to squish the disappointment deep, deep down. And also pretend I didn't close my eyes, waiting for it.

I flushed when he turned back around walking towards the frozen section.

We made around way around the supermarket, finally ending in the cereal aisle, where I grabbed two boxes of- yeah yeah, I've said it enough- fruit loops, and Will grabbed a box of corn pops. His hand brushed mine when we put the boxes in the cart, and I had to stop myself from grabbing his hand again. It was not the time. Also, I was afraid to, if it wasn't for a specific reason.

I was starting to get tired. I hadn't done this much activity in months. Surrounded by people. It was sort of loud. A lot was happening.

"Oh! We should buy you hot chocolate mix, shouldn't we!" Will smiled, pulling the cart with him so that I would follow him in the right direction.

I was starting to zone out, using it as a way to tone down the anxiety. Unfortunately, when Will stopped walking, I hit him with the cart.

"Watch it, Neeks!" Will laughed, looking over at me. His eyebrows dropped in concern, "hey, you ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just getting... um."

"Tired?" Will guessed, smiling softly again. I nodded.

"Don't worry, we're almost done, I just have to grab us some sushi for lunch and pay, ok?" He asked, reaching out towards my face. He dropped his hand before it came too close. Hm.

"Yeah," I nodded, following him to the front of the store. He grabbed two packages of sushi from the sushi bar and then rolled the cart into line. I helped him unpack it slowly, and when he went up to the register to pay, I stood behind him, a hand on the hem of his sweater, looking at the ground. The girl at the cash was probably staring, but I couldn't find it in me to care. I was ready to get back home and sleep.

Will handed me one of the bags to carry so that we both had a free hand to hold on the walk back.

By the time we made it up the stairs to his apartment, I was quite ready to lay down. I stood quietly next to Will as he keyed open the door, lifted the bag of groceries on to the counter, and bee-lined to Will's room.

I stripped off the going-out clothes, feeling confined by the jeans and the turtleneck, and pulled on Will's sweats and a baggy T-shirt. I threw the hat and glasses on his desk, hung the Jean jacket up on his desk chair, and dumped the clothes into the laundry bin.

When I padded back out to the living room, deciding against Will's bed, Will was nearly done putting the groceries away.

"Sorry, I didn't help," I frowned, feeling guilty. He probably spent a lot of extra money, buying food for me. I could at least do the chores.

"It's ok, Neeks," Will smiled, nodding his head at the couch, "I know that was a lot, wanna watch something on tv?"

"Together?" I asked, looking at the empty couch, and then back at Will. I sounded needy. But I was tired, and Will was going to be gone for most of the day. Cecil wasn't bad to be around, but I felt... safer with Will here. Even if I didn't completely trust him yet.
Which was dumb. I hated his guts a month ago. Why did I feel the need to contradict myself like this? In such a demanding, clingy way, too.

"I gotta do some studying before my lecture, so yeah," Will smiled, putting the eggs in the fridge, "go sit, I'll be there soon."

I did what he said, falling back into the cushions.
I began flicking through the channels of the tv, like I had been not too long ago, and still found nothing better than HGTV.
I threw the remote on the table and sunk into the couch.
My eyes began to flutter shut when the cushions sank next to me.

Will plopped a notebook and binder on the coffee table with a couple highlighters.

"I'm guessing you don't want to take off the bandages?" Will asked quietly, sipping what looked like a coffee. When he made it, I wasn't sure.

"No, too tired," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. I go out for less than an hour and I'm exhausted, what gives?

"That's alright," Will placed his mug on the table, grabbing on of his notebooks, "why don't you lie down, you look like you're going to fall asleep sitting up."

"Hmm, yeah," I tilted until my head hit the pillow at the opposite end of the couch, feet on the floor. I could have fallen asleep like that, but suddenly Will shifted, and a blanket was draped over me.

"You can put your feet in my lap, I don't mind," Will murmured.

Too tired to argue, I pulled my feet off the floor and plopped them in Will's lap. My face heated a bit, which Will hopefully didn't notice.
Will adjusted the blanket over my legs. When I peeped my eyes open, I saw him highlighting in his notebook, like this was completely normal. Maybe it was. I mean, I didn't mind. I sort of liked it...

I pushed my face into the pillow, to try and stop my thoughts, and fell asleep.

A/n
Hehehehehehe I fucking LOVE projecting onto Nico. It is such a good coping mechanism and it's so easy to write. Well. As long as I'm in the mood.
I say as if this didn't take me 7 hours. LOL

Also I love domestic scenes. There's gonna be a lot of them.

Also I might edit this better tmo my mom just yelled at me to get off my phone AH GOODNIGHT

I love you guys!!!

Thea