Five Times, Part 3

Previously: Part 2 [AA]

Finale. Apologies for lateness.
Rated AA.

* * * * *

Part Three: Spencer

Spencer breathed deeply. Ashley was so beautiful yet so wounded that Spencer wanted to wrap her in her arms and make all the hurt go away, but she tried to compose herself enough to finally explain.

Despite the ocean breeze, the heat was rising, and she could feel sweat trailing a lazy path down her skull, her hair damp against the back of her neck. Maybe it was her nerves. Ashley held her heart and her future in her hands—although, in retrospect, she always had and Spencer just hadn’t realised it—and the thought of rejection was terrifying.

“For a long time,” she started, trying to maintain eye contact with her wife, “things weren’t right and I didn’t know what to do. I mean, you were so set on showing me that you were just not bothered by anything that happened. I was scared that we were slipping away from each other, but I didn’t feel like I could just tell you. I thought if I loved you hard enough, you would love me back again, but every time I came home, you acted like I was forcing you into even being near me.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Ashley pouted and slumped back in her chair.

“Okay, forcing is strong, but you made it seem like being around me was a chore to you. Then there was the Aiden thing. I know you didn’t sleep with him—I believe you when you say that—but you wanted to. And all I had in my head was the idea that you wanted someone who wasn’t me, but that you only stopped yourself because of some misplaced sense of loyalty.”

“Misplaced sense of loyalty? We were married!” Ashley looked around, aware that she was shouting and that others might be watching; Spencer didn’t care about that any more.

“We are married,” Spencer corrected. Even through the months she spent with Erin, she always felt married to Ashley. She just hoped Ashley still felt the same.

“Don’t play that card, Spence. I didn’t choose to end this!”

“I know,” Spencer nodded. Ashley was right. Even though both of them shared some of the blame for drifting apart, it was Spencer’s own foolish actions which had ultimately caused their separation. “When I threw you out, I honestly never thought you would leave. I was trying to provoke a reaction, because you’d stopped reacting at all, except to scowl about whatever was going on in your head. You didn’t even get angry any more. I just wanted to know you felt something other than resentment.

“I never thought that you would leave Seattle, but you did. And then I thought you’d come back right away, but you wouldn’t answer my phone calls or my texts or my emails. I was convinced then that you’d stopped loving me. I spent three weeks just crying. And she came to see me, and, in the end, I gave into her because she wanted to take care of me and because she wasn’t you and because it wasn’t difficult. I let myself be seduced by her seduction. And that was stupid and selfish and self-centred and unforgivable.”

“Yeah, it was.” Ashley’s anger was making her hand shake, as she held it against her chest. It looked to Spencer like her wife was trying to push the feelings back into her chest, and that really wasn’t what she was trying to achieve.

Spencer wrapped her arms around herself, a chill passing through her, despite the heat. “I’m not blaming you for anything I did. The blame is all on me. I didn’t try hard enough. I didn’t fight hard enough. I was stupid and immature—”

“You don’t fucking say,” Ashley mumbled.

Spencer ignored the comment. She didn’t want to fight; she just needed to finish what she was trying to say. “I tried to push you into doing and saying things that I wasn’t prepared to myself. Instead of trying to get you to tell me you still loved me, I should’ve told you everything I felt. Because I felt so much for you, it was this huge, terrifying storm of emotion and need and love. And it’s there all the time, even now.

“You deserve to be showered with love and affection every day, and told how incredible you are. And, as your wife, that was my job, and I totally crapped out there.” She shook her head. “Not a day goes by when I don’t regret staying in Canada. It was only a job, and I should have come home to you instead, built my world around you, not my career. We could’ve moved back here.” She swept the air with her hand. “Fuck, we could’ve moved to a desert island. Anywhere to be together. I should’ve been wherever you were, because you’re my home.”

Ashley shrugged. “To be fair, it would’ve been easier for me to move. At least I can work anywhere.” A glimmer of a smile passed across her face. “I hear that people sing in Canada. They even have a proper music industry. I’m not including Celine, though. You’re still dead to me for buying that album.”

Spencer shook her head. After seven years, Ashley showed no signs of letting that one go. “It was one track.”

“Doesn’t matter. It was Celine, Spence.” Ashley shrugged. “And I still could’ve moved. That wasn’t all you.” It was a small step towards conciliation, but Spencer was willing to take whatever she could get.

“Yeah, well, now look where we are. I’m unemployed and you’re not even a musician any more.”

“I still am. It’s a bit like being an alcoholic. Once you’re a musician, you’re always a musician, even if you’re not playing. It’s just not my day job.” At times, Ashley had a real way with words. For so many reasons, they should have talked more during their marriage.

“Either way, my point is that I should have told you what I was feeling, instead of thinking that a few stolen weekends spent in bed could fix everything. You deserved to hear it, the actual words which told you how much I love you, how much I need you. That’s what I’m trying to say, although obviously not very well.” She rolled her eyes at Ashley’s little shrug of agreement. “I thought I spoke our emotional language, but I get the feeling that you never understood what I was trying to tell you, and I wasn’t really listening to you. I thought I was telling you the all the ways that I loved you, and you thought I was using sex to shut you up.”

Ashley stared at her in contemplation, and then looked out to sea. “I get that you think it was all fucked up, but our sex life was pretty good.” Her tone was wistful, and Spencer wondered if Ashley had a specific occasion in mind or whether she was just remembering in general.

“I never said the actual sex was bad. All I said was that it shouldn’t have been our only method of communication.”

Ashley smirked, adopting her familiar arrogant demeanour, the one Spencer knew to be a lie, but which was so attractive all the same. “But you have to admit, Spence, it was damn good sex.”

Spencer laughed and finished her drink. “No, babe, it was amazing sex. I wasn’t joking before. You really are incredible.”

Ashley grinned, her nose crinkling with self-satisfaction. “I am pretty special.”

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly, “you really are.”

“For someone who thinks we spent too much time having sex and not enough time talking, all you seem to be talking about is sex.”

Spencer chuckled, her heart feeling lighter than it had for almost a year. “I guess maybe I am.”

Ashley dipped her head, glancing up coyly, the start of a flirtatious smile on her lips. “If they didn’t know better, someone might think that you were trying to seduce them.”

Oh, she was fishing. And she was definitely flirting. It was the strongest indication yet that they might find their way back together.

“Someone wouldn’t be wrong,” she replied, leaning back and waiting for a quick response, but Ashley didn’t say anything for a while. She started to form words, but never actually spoke. It gave Spencer the chance to just look at her properly. Ashley looked as tired as Spencer felt, but she still had that fire within which had attracted Spencer in the first place, all those years ago.

Ashley always liked to think that she kept her emotions in check, but she burned with passion. Nothing Ashley did was ever half-assed. Love, hate, anger, lust and jealousy: she threw herself into them like each was a battle to the death. And she was still breathtakingly beautiful. There had never been anyone who could make Spencer’s pulse race quite so hard just by being in her vicinity.

After what felt like a long time, Ashley tossed her drink back and slammed it down on the table, causing a loud clinking noise that surprised the other patrons on the sundeck more than their raised voices had.

“You’re right,” Ashley announced with finality.

“About what?” Spencer said.

“We didn’t try hard enough.” Ashley leaned back in her chair, letting her head fall back. In a small voice, she added, “We should’ve been strong enough, and it’s all kinds of wrong that we weren’t.”

Shutting her eyes, Spencer whispered, “Do you think if we had it all to do over, we could be? Strong enough, I mean?” She was scared of the answer, but she had to know.

Ashley’s head was still tipped back, but Spencer could see that her eyes were glistening with tears. “I honestly don’t know. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, so I’ve got nothing to compare us to, but I know I loved you more than I ever imagined I could and I thought that would be enough.”

Spencer tried not to fixate on the use of the past tense. “Me, too.”

Ashley narrowed her eyes. “Which bit?”

“All of it.”

“Are you saying you didn’t love the mistress?” Ashley’s tone was incredulous.

Spencer almost laughed—at both the use of the word ‘mistress’ and the notion that she could love anyone other than Ashley—but that wouldn’t be appropriate and Ashley would take it the wrong way. How could she have been so blind for so long to the fact that Ashley needed her reassurance and not just her love?

“No, I never loved her.” She spoke slowly and carefully, staring deeply into her wife’s eyes. “I have only ever loved you. I have only ever been in love with you. Always have, and always will. No matter what else you think of me, I need you to know that. I have been a terrible wife. And I am so sorry for not telling you that I love you every chance I had. I could punch myself in the face for being so stupid.” She attempted a little self-deprecation, wanting to hold onto the easy conversation they had somehow slipped into.

“We were both shit at being married,” Ashley said. “Your Dad told me earlier today that it takes two people to ruin a good marriage, and I guess he was right.”

Spencer smirked. “That sounds a lot like what he told me, too, although he told me that it also take two people to rebuild a good marriage. I get the feeling he still thinks we have a chance.” She hoped Ashley agreed.

“He’s a good Dad.” It was more non-committal than Spencer would have liked, but at least Ashley wasn’t dismissing the idea of a reconciliation.

“I’m glad he’s still your Dad, too. He adores you.” Sometimes, Spencer thought that Arthur might love Ashley even more than his own kids. Not in a bad way. She couldn’t blame him because Ashley was so, well, loveable, even at her worst. But Arthur loved Ashley just that little bit extra because he knew she needed it. There were so many years of no love at all in Ashley’s life and Arthur took it as his personal challenge to make up for them. And Spencer admitted to herself that she should have tried to do the same. Her father shouldn’t have been the only one taking her wife’s side. “And I adore you, too,” she added quietly.

Ashley didn’t answer, but she did motion the waitress for another round of drinks.

* * *

Ten weeks ago

Spencer had her key in her hand, but she wasn’t sure that she should let herself in again, even though she had on her previous few visits. She hummed and hawed for a few minutes before finally lifting her hand and knocking on the heavy door. She waited, but heard no movement inside. Pressing her ear to the door, she realised that there was no music playing, which almost certainly meant that Ashley was out. She slipped her key in the lock and let herself inside.

The loft had hardly changed since she was eighteen. The few additions were things they had accumulated as a couple, but it was very much Ashley’s space. Music was everywhere: CDs spilled across many of the surfaces; Ashley’s father’s guitar rested on a stand by the fireplace and another lay on the couch; pages of lyrics with musical notations were strewn across the coffee table. There were also far too many dirty dishes, a sign that Ashley still hadn’t been fully domesticated.

On the mantel above the fireplace, there were a series of pictures tracing their lives together. The junior prom photo was particularly amusing. Seriously, what were either of them thinking with that hair? But their wedding picture, which stood pride-of-place in the centre in a simple wooden frame, brought tears to her eyes. She hugged herself and just stared at it, as if she could find her way back to that person by just wishing it hard enough.

Next to the photographs, she noticed something else, a small jewellery box with some papers sticking out of it. Knowing she shouldn’t look because she don’t have the right to go through her wife’s possessions, Spencer peeked inside anyway.

It was every love letter or note that she’d ever given Ashley. It shamed her to see that there were only two actual letters, while the rest were sticky notes or scraps of paper torn from notebooks. And there were so few of them. Ashley had sent her scores of letters, especially in the first years of their relationship: Spencer hadn’t even kept them all, there had been so many.

Suddenly, looking at the pitifully small pile of notes, she had a major moment of clarity about what Ashley had always needed and she had never given her.

With a groan, Spencer remembered that her father—of course, her father, who understood them both better than anyone—tried to tell her what she needed to know, but she thought she knew better.

The gist of his advice, delivered via phonecall while she was still with Ashley, but stuck in Vancouver feeling sorry for herself, was that love wasn’t fair because life wasn’t a Harlequin romance. And the work involved felt unequal: each person thought that they had to work a lot harder than the other, but that it didn’t matter, because it was worth it for the right person.

‘If Ashley is your one, then you have to find out how she needs to be loved,’ he had said. ‘That’s the mistake we make, Spencer. We express our love in the way that feels right to us, in the way we’d want to have it expressed to us, instead of in the way the person we love needs to hear it. And Ashley needs extra love. Even if you love her as much as you think is humanly possible, she’s always going to believe that you don’t love her at all.’

She had thought that she understood, but she had been wrong. She had thought that her actions—frankly, sex and intimacy—were the way to show Ashley, but it had never been that. Ashley needed the reassurance of her words, all her words.

She could do that. She could tell Ashley how she felt. After all, the feelings overwhelmed her every day. She had thought that she could control it by seeing Ashley occasionally, but each visit had started and ended with marathon bouts of almost violent sex. She loved Ashley so much that she lost control. But that was no excuse for her cowardice. She had, at least, taken a first step, though.

Finally, after months of knowing that she had to leave, but letting guilt override her reason, she had broken up with Erin. She should never have let it get beyond a one-night stand, but she had let Erin believe that they had a chance at a future, so she felt obligated to give the relationship a try. She was also willing to admit that, while the show was still filming and they were around each other for sixteen or seventeen hours a day, staying together had also been the path of least resistance.

Having dreaded it for so long, the break-up itself turned out to be anticlimactic. When she told Erin that she’d been seeing Ashley, Erin announced that she’d always known that Spencer still belonged to Ashley. The fact that Spencer hadn’t stopped wearing her wedding ring and hadn’t even looked into divorce proceedings had been a big clue. She’d known about their affair, as well. ‘Although, she’s the wife, so I suppose I’m still the affair,’ she had joked.

In short, Erin had been decent and kind and understanding, and she had made Spencer feel even worse about not having ended it earlier. She had shortchanged all of them: Ashley, Erin and herself.

She was a terrible wife and a pretty shitty girlfriend, she concluded. Still, she was trying to change that. Well, just the wife part. She was going to tell Ashley that she had left Erin and beg her forgiveness. She had allowed her marriage to fall apart, just because she was stubborn and stupid, and she owed Ashley more than that.

Eventually, she wiped her drying tears and shook her arms. At a loss for anything else to do, she started to clear up the mugs, plates and glasses from the living area, stacking them inside the dishwasher until the place looked more presentable.

She started making coffee, again more for something to pass the time than anything else, and looked around for the Snoopy cookie jar which used to sit on the kitchen island. She blushed as she suddenly remembered that they had broken it during her last visit, the victim of a hasty but explosive coupling. Quite a few things had been sent flying, as she recalled, and she had stained her favourite t-shirt into the bargain.

With a coffee, but without a cookie, she sat in the living area and waited nervously. It wasn’t long before the door opened, and Ashley backed in, several bags of groceries in her arms. As she turned around, she dropped them and shouted, “Holy crap!”

Spencer immediately rushed over to help her pick everything up, almost slipping on a stray orange in her rush. Idly, she noted that there was a large carton of Minute Maid cherry vanilla on the floor; it was Spencer’s favourite, but Ashley hated it.

“You scared the fuck out of me, Spence.” Ashley eyed her with suspicion and a little hostility. “Just once, it would be nice if you’d warn me in advance about these little visits.”

Spencer nodded dumbly. It wasn’t fair of her to show up unannounced, but she feared being turned away if she asked. She paused, her hand over a gallon of milk, and was struck, as ever, by how gorgeous Ashley was. She was on all fours, trying to pack her groceries back into the bags, and Spencer could see straight down her tank top.

Immediately, every thought that had been in her head deserted her as she stared openly. Ashley wasn’t wearing a bra, and Spencer’s mouth fell open unconsciously.

“I’d forgotten—”

“What?” Ashley snapped.

“—just how beautiful you are.”


Spencer shook her head. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t do this again.”

“Do what?” Spencer wasn’t trying to be disingenuous; she didn’t know whether it was just being there or complimenting her wife which was wrong. Or maybe it was some other thing.

“Don’t come here and look at me like that.” Ashley’s voice was miserable, but her eyes were narrowed and her chest—Spencer could hardly tear her eyes away from that chest—was heaving. Ashley wanted her. If Spencer moved forward even a quarter-inch, they’d be naked and sweaty on the living room floor within minutes.

Spencer sat back amid the spilled groceries. “I can’t look at you any other way,” she admitted. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Ashley stared, her eyes wide, a shy smile forming. “You really think so?”

Spencer nodded, unconsciously licking her lips. “You’re exquisite. I don’t think there are words to describe exactly how beautiful you are to me.” She picked up some of the groceries around her. “Why don’t we put these away and we’ll talk?”

Ashley looked suspicious. “What could we possibly have to talk about? You show up here every few weeks, and I hear nothing from you in between. We have nothing in common any more.”

Spencer took a steadying breath, because she deserved the comment. “I’m sorry about that.” She picked up a bag of groceries and moved it to the kitchen island, placing it down and turning to face Ashley, who was still sitting on the ground. Her eyes were glistening. Spencer could hardly believe how much she had hurt the one person she had sworn to love and cherish forever. “All I want in this world is to be worthy of you, Ashley.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” Ashley stood, picking up the remaining items from the floor and putting them in the sack in her hands.

Spencer nodded. “Yeah.” There was so much more she wanted to say, but talking was hard. Admitting all your mistakes was hard. “But it’s true.”

“Whatever.” Ashley was staring at Spencer’s waist, where her top had ridden up. Spencer looked down at herself and then back at Ashley, who was wetting her lips, her eyes darkening in a familiar way.

She should tell Ashley about having left Erin, but she realised that it was only part of what Ashley deserved. They needed a fresh start. They needed to be living in the same city. She couldn’t just show up, ask Ashley for a second chance and then go back to Seattle. They had already proved that a long-distance relationship between them would never work. She needed to get her shit together, move back to Los Angeles, find a job and a place, and then start trying to win her wife back. Ashley deserved her fullest effort.

But there were things she could say already. There were things she could say while Ashley was there, in front of her, looking so much like the girl she had fallen in love with in the first place.

As she felt Ashley’s mouth move against her neck—when had she moved so close?—she wrapped her arms around her wife and whispered into her hair, “I am gonna love you so good that you’ll never know what hit you.”

She felt Ashley’s chuckle, the rumble of it against her body as arousing as the hand which had slipped inside her shirt and was making its way inexorably towards her breast.

“I’m coming back for you, Ash. I’m gonna claim you, because you’re mine.” She tipped her head back and sighed happily as she felt teeth marking her skin where her neck met her shoulder.

“I’m yours already.” It was a whisper so small that Spencer had to pull back and look at her wife. Ashley’s eyes were downcast, but her hands were still moving with confidence and purpose, teasing Spencer’s nipples through the lace of her bra.

“You know I’m yours, too?” Spencer asked, searching those sad, brown eyes for some sign that Ashley believed her.

Ashley pushed Spencer’s top up her body, bunching it around her neck, then looked down at the skin she had revealed, watching her hands moving on Spencer. “I see that,” she replied, her voice full of lust.

As Spencer pulled her wife’s head down to her skin, she promised herself that this would be the last time they did this. Next time they met, she would tell her everything, state her case, and not let sex get in the way. But, for tonight, she could use her words as much as her body.

It was a start.

* * *

They stayed in the little beachside bar and talked for hours. Eventually, the night crowd started moving in and the noise became too much. Ashley suggested that they went to the loft—’Just to talk, no funny business’—and Spencer readily agreed. Now that they were talking, now that she thought that they might have a chance, she would follow her wife to the ends of the earth.

They barely made it through the front door before Ashley was trying to undress her, to make her forget her promise to herself that it would not be about sex. With a level of willpower she didn’t know she had, she pushed Ashley onto the couch and went to make them both coffee. She was still drawing the water to fill the coffeemaker when she heard Ashley’s snoring.

With only a modicum of difficulty, she manoeuvred Ashley into the bedroom. They were both too drunk to try to undress her, so she she sat Ashley on the edge of the bed and removed her shoes. Laying her back gently, she smiled as Ashley’s arms tightened around her neck.

“Let go. You need to sleep,” she said softly, pressing her lips to Ashley’s cheek.

“Stay. Hold me.”

Wordlessly, she shifted onto the bed next to Ashley, gathering her into her arms.

It was dark when she woke, and her first thought was that she didn’t have a hangover, which was quite startling, considering the amount she had drunk. Her second thought was that she wanted to cry with happiness.

Despite the fact that her bladder was potentially about to explode, she had no intention of moving. Ashley’s head was resting against her breast, her arm slung possessively across Spencer’s waist, fingers grasped tightly to Spencer’s shirt, their legs tangled together. She lifted her hand and stroked her fingers through her wife’s hair, gently untangling it before settling her fingers against Ashley’s neck.

She brought her other arm around Ashley’s back, holding her wife tightly to her. They were sweaty from the heat and the alcohol, and one or both of them smelled terrible. She didn’t care.

“Where are we?” Ashley murmured, her voice thick with sleep and hangover.

“Your bed.” Spencer cautiously continued her soft stroking of Ashley’s neck and was pleased to note her wife turning slightly to allow better contact.


“No funny business,” she confirmed. “You’re still dressed.”

Ashley opened one eye and peered at the arm around Spencer’s waist. “So are you.”


Ashley’s face screwed up. “Why?”

“We came back here to talk, but you passed out while I was trying to get you in the door.”

“What time is it?”

“Not sure. Five-ish?” And then Ashley moved slightly, her weight resting more fully on Spencer’s abdomen, and Spencer giggled. “I really have to pee,” she admitted.

“No-one’s stopping you.” Ashley tightened her hold.

“Yeah, I get that.” She patted Ashley’s back. “Let me up.”



“Soon,” her wife crooned, burying her face in Spencer’s neck and nuzzling against the skin there.

“Let me up. I’ll be right back.” She tried to wriggle away from Ashley’s strong hold.

“Stay.” It was just a single word, and Ashley wouldn’t even raise her head to look at her as she said it, but Spencer knew that it wasn’t about her needing to go to the bathroom.

She moved closer to Ashley again, wrapping her arms around her wife and holding her as tightly as possible. “I am staying. I will never go away again.”


Spencer kissed the top of Ashley’s head. “With all my heart.”

Ashley squeezed her once more and then released her hold. “Then you can go.”

Spencer slipped off the bed, smiling down at her dishevelled wife. How could she ever have imagined that this wasn’t her life? “I love you,” she whispered. Ashley turned and buried her face in the pillow.

When she got to the bathroom door, she heard Ashley move again. “Spence?”

“Yeah?” She held her breath, afraid that Ashley would come to her senses as the alcohol wore off and everything that had happened over the past couple of years started coming back to her in living colour.

Ashley rolled over so that she was lying across the bed, looking straight at Spencer. She blushed a little and cleared her throat before pressing on. “Later? When I’m awake and we’ve showered, can we have awesome make-up sex?”

Spencer laughed, feeling happier than she could remember.

* * * * *



  1. cbrammer
    Posted 25 July 2013 at 5.08pm | Permalink

    That was super sweet. I loved the insight that Arthur gave Spencer about how we love how we think we want to be loved ourselves. Instead of loving people the way they want/need to be loved. Was also glad to get more details around Erin and Spencer to confirm that there could never really ever be anyone other than Ashley. Thanks for posting this update!

  2. Posted 25 July 2013 at 6.18pm | Permalink

    I don’t think I’ll ever stop liking Spashley… specially if it’s as good as this!
    Loved it. Thank you very much for posting.

  3. Cassy
    Posted 25 July 2013 at 7.04pm | Permalink

    There is not a Spashley fic written by either you or Clom that I haven’t re-read at least 4 times. You both are brilliant and this fic is adorable. Great work! And thank you for the update!! :)

  4. gelique
    Posted 25 July 2013 at 7.30pm | Permalink

    This made me smile. I dunno if it’s because I can relate to the story or you’re just an awesome writer. I hope the part 3 of this story will also happen to me and my ex-boyfriend. :)) A girl can only wish. Anyway, this is one of my favorites. Good job!

  5. Charlotte
    Posted 25 July 2013 at 8.41pm | Permalink

    Loved this story and that was a very sweet way to end. Now I’m off to start re-reading it from the beginning.

  6. Ash
    Posted 25 July 2013 at 11.00pm | Permalink

    Wow such an amazing ending. I loved this story so much, there was so much emotion and insight in such a short story. I hope you continue writing spashley :)

  7. Gis
    Posted 26 July 2013 at 11.26pm | Permalink

    Loved it!! Great to see such a lovely story following up a possible future for our girls from the original story. I always imagine they growing up and having a hard time staying together, because that is how real life is. This was a great way to see it happening and see they ending up together again. And a very sweet ending too. Thank you so much for another great Spashley story!! Look forward to the next one!!! ;-)

  8. jovan
    Posted 4 October 2013 at 11.12pm | Permalink

    Loved it, was great.

  9. BRB
    Posted 24 August 2016 at 8.01pm | Permalink

    A very long time lurker de-lurking..
    This was actually soooo very sweet I cried..!
    Didn’t help I was listening to L.P.’s Suburban Sprawl & Alcohol at the time (very apt btw).
    Thank you so much for writing such lovely fluff even if angsty at times ;)

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