emmagrant01 | FIC: Surrender the Grey (28/30)

NOTE: This is the first draft of this story. The final version can be read HERE.

Title: Surrender the Grey
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to London after five years of self-imposed exile to start a new life with Harry. But will the secrets of the past destroy everything they've worked for?
Sequel to: Left My Heart. This will make much more sense if you have read that first!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no copyright violation intended.
Length: 150,000 words
Status: COMPLETED November 2, 2005 (Posted March 2 - November 2, 2005)
Notes:
1. Please don't archive this story yet! This is the first draft, and in the next few months, it will be revised and edited. I'll post the final version on my website and a few other select archives, but in the meantime, feel free to link to this post.
2. There aren't enough words to say THANK YOU to

jedirita,

hazelhawthorne, and

(28)

Weasley returned fifteen minutes later, holding a paper cup in each hand. He glanced around the room and appeared relieved to find Draco alone. He stopped before Draco's desk and held out one of the cups. "Latte?"

Draco took it, looking up at him. "Sure. Thanks."

Weasley waved his wand and the chair from his desk scooted across the room. He sat across from Draco and sighed. "So he didn't tell you about her?"

Draco snorted in response.

Weasley took a sip from his cup and nodded. "I'm not surprised. They've been dating for about a year, but he doesn't seem to think it's serious."

"How can you date someone that long and not think it's serious?" Draco didn't even try to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

"She travels a lot, for one thing. They only see each other a week out of every month." Draco scowled and Weasley shrugged. "I'm not trying to make excuses for him, but the thing is… he really doesn't like her all that much."

"Then why does he still go out with her at all?"

Weasley gave him an odd look. "Well, she's hot, for one thing. I hear she's a tiger in bed, too. What bloke could say no to that?" Draco gave him a long look, and Weasley's lips quirked into a smile. "Anyway, he hasn't dated much, and when she pursued him, he went along with it. Hermione thinks it was easier for him than being alone."

"If you're trying to make me feel better--"

"I'm not," Weasley replied, giving him a sharp look. "Harry's my best friend, and I care about him. I want him be happy."

Draco frowned. "What are you saying?"

Weasley leaned back in his chair. "Look, Hermione and I have been trying to talk to him about this for months, but he won't listen. He's not happy with Cho, but he won't break it off."

"Why not?"

"Dunno. Maybe he's just afraid of how she would react. He's had enough conflict in his life." Weasley's expression changed, and he looked guilty and troubled. "I hate the way she treats him. We had them over for dinner once, and it drove us mad to watch her treat him like a child."

"Hermione doesn't like her either?" Draco asked. He was starting to enjoy this conversation.

Weasley bit his lip and hesitated, twisting a ring he wore on his right hand. He looked up at Draco. "I'm going to say something to you, Malfoy, and if you ever repeat it, I will deny it completely."

Draco nodded. "Sure."

Weasley pursed his lips. "I want you to break them up. Submarine it, bust it up -- whatever it takes." He met Draco's eyes, the expression on his face solemn. "If you care about him at all, take him away from her."

Draco couldn't speak for a moment. He stared at Weasley, slack-jawed. "I… but you said the other day--"

"I know," Weasley said. "But I would rather see him heartbroken by you than wind up married to her. And that's where this is going -- she's told Hermione as much, and I know him. He'll go along with it because he thinks it's what he's supposed to do. He'd be miserable for the rest of his life, and he doesn't deserve that."

"He says he's not gay," Draco replied. It was the only thing he could think of to say.

Weasley's lips twisted, and he sipped his coffee. "Well, he's not straight either. I know that for a fact."

Draco found he could only nod his head. He hadn't expected Weasley to be sympathetic, let alone encouraging.

"Right," Weasley said, standing and sending his chair back across the room. "Back to work, then."

Draco stared at the papers on his desk for a long time after that, unable to think about anything other than Potter.

+++++

Draco ate in the train station that night -- ridiculously expensive fast-food sushi -- and then picked up a few bottles of beer at Sainsburys before heading back to his room. He watched a film on television and drank himself into a buzz, and tried very hard not to think about what Potter and Chang were doing at that moment.

He was awakened by the shift of the mattress as someone sat on his bed. He sat up and fumbled for his wand, cursing. After a moment, his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the still-playing television, and he could see who his intruder was.

"Fucking hell, Potter!"

Potter grinned at him. "If you don't want strange wizards popping in, you should put up wards."

Draco scowled and set his wand aside. Potter was right, of course. "What time is it?"

"After midnight," Potter replied. He slid closer, eyeing Draco almost hungrily.

Draco felt a shiver of pleasure at that look. It cut through his annoyance rather easily. "How was your date?"

Potter leaned forward. "I really don't want to talk about it right now." He kissed him.

There's something wrong here, Draco thought. He stiffened and pulled away. "You had sex with her, didn't you?"

Potter's face fell, and he sat back. "Well… she sort of attacked me."

Draco snorted. "What, in the restaurant?"

"No." Potter ran a hand through his hair, something Draco had come to realize was a nervous gesture. "At my flat."

Draco could only gape at him. "You took her back to your flat?"

Potter looked frustrated and embarrassed at the same time. "Yes, but all I could think about was you. I could even smell you on the sheets, and I…" He broke off and looked away.

Despite his jealousy, Draco felt a stab of glee at the thought of Chang getting fucked on sheets stained with his own spunk. Take him away from her -- Weasley's words drifted through his mind again as Draco studied Potter's face. He didn't look happy. The fact that he'd come to Draco afterwards, apparently still horny, said a lot.

"Take a shower," Draco told him, his voice firm and cool. "And use soap. I don't want to smell her on you, anywhere."

Potter stared at him a moment more, then stood. The light from the television flickered over him as he began to strip off his clothes. He kept his eyes focused on Draco's the entire time, expressionless. When he was finally naked, he let Draco's eyes rake over him for a few seconds before he turned and walked into the bathroom.

The moment he was out of sight, Draco sighed and flopped onto his back. He was not going to lose his head. He was going to enjoy himself, and that was all. Potter wanted him, and that was enough for now.

Potter took him seriously about washing well; he was in the shower a good fifteen minutes. He was still damp when he stretched out next to Draco, and he smelled of the hotel's French-milled soap. He stared at Draco in the dim light, looking almost anxious.

Draco waited a moment more before kissing him, hard. He was going to do this his way tonight: it would be hard and fast and rough. If Potter liked women who were aggressive in bed, then Draco would show him one better.

He pushed Potter's arms over his head and held them there with one hand while he reached for his wand. He broke the kiss long enough to cast a spell -- red tendrils of light emerged from his wand and bound Potter's wrists to the headboard. Potter's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything.

Draco didn't waste time on foreplay. He cast a few preparatory spells and pressed into Potter, ignoring the grimace on his face. He leaned forward, close enough to kiss him, but didn't.

"Did you fuck her?" he whispered against Potter's lips just as he started to pull out again.

"Yes," Potter hissed, his eyes locked on Draco's.

The slow slide out was exquisite. Draco held his breath and pushed back in. Potter closed his eyes. His face looked more relaxed than it had a moment ago, but he still seemed uncomfortable.

"Did she suck you?" Draco let his lips brush against Potter's as he spoke. He felt Potter gasp.

"Yes."

"Did you eat her?"

"Yes." Potter tried to kiss him, but Draco pulled away just enough that he couldn't reach.

He changed the angle of his thrusting, and Potter's mouth fell open. "But she can't make you feel like this, can she?"

Potter's response was a strangled groan. Draco reached between them to pull at Potter's cock as he moved, watching his face. He looked so vulnerable writhing under Draco with his hands bound above his head, and the mix of pain and pleasure on his face was unbearably erotic. Draco wanted to kiss him, but he didn't. He just moved, concentrating on making it as good for Potter as he possibly could.

It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to demand that Potter not go near Chang again. Potter would probably even agree now, when he was on the verge of orgasm. Draco closed his eyes. Maybe he would say it later, but not tonight. Tonight he simply wanted to remind Potter what he could give him.

Within minutes, Potter came hard, biting his lip and moaning. Draco finally kissed him then, muffling his cries and pounding into him even harder than before. His fingers were still wrapped around Potter's prick; he could only manage to squeeze it as it was trapped between their bellies. Potter relaxed beneath him and panted.

Draco had been focusing so much on Potter, he hadn't realized he was close to coming himself. He clenched his jaw when he felt it begin, trying not to cry out. He braced his hands on the bed on either side of Potter, groaning through his clenched teeth.

"God," Potter sighed when Draco finally stopped moving. He wriggled, and Draco pulled away and stretched out next to him. Potter blinked at him for a moment. "Are you going to…?"

Draco closed his eyes and smiled. "You can stay, Potter. I won't kick you out."

"Untie me, actually?"

Draco grinned. "I think I might just keep you like this. I like it."

To Draco's surprise, Potter grinned back. "Could you bind my hands elsewhere, at least? I'm getting a cramp."

Draco fumbled for his wand and waved it in the direction of Potter's hands without looking. A moment later, Potter was rubbing at his wrists and staring at the ceiling.

"I didn't know it could feel like that."

Draco yawned. "Like what?"

"That good," Potter said. "That was intense."

Draco smiled. "Go to sleep, Potter."

"You could at least call me Harry, considering you just tied me up and fucked me."

"Go to sleep, Harry."

+++++

Saturday, 3 February, 2001

"Is that really the time?" Potter mumbled, leaning over Draco to stare at the clock.

"Yes," Draco said, curling an arm around him. Potter was warm and Draco didn't want him to get up yet.

"Shit," Potter said, and rested his cheek on Draco's chest. "I have to go."

Draco made a whimpering sound and stroked Potter's back. "It's Saturday."

Potter sighed and kissed Draco before climbing over him and out of bed. He disappeared into the bathroom.

Draco yawned and squinted at the clock. It was nearly 10:00. He fumbled for the remote and turned the television on. The picture was blurry and he had to accio his glasses from across the room. He searched through the channels and stopped on the BBC World Service.

"--and that's what they're now saying, Richard." The picture on the screen was split to show a correspondent in a busy London Street and an anchorman in the studio.

"So the earlier witnesses who claim to have heard multiple explosions are now all recanting their stories? Isn't that a bit odd?"

The correspondent nodded. "It certainly seems to be, but a dozen people are now denying having heard these explosions in central London. The authorities haven't been able to locate the source, so it looks as if all is well."

The anchor shook his head and smiled at the camera. "There you have it. This morning's widespread reports of several car bombs seem to have been--"

Draco turned to see Potter standing next to him, staring at the television. He looked horrified.

Draco gasped, understanding flooding him. "Diagon Alley!"

They dressed as quickly as they could. They argued for a moment over whether or not they should apparate into a situation they knew nothing about, but ultimately decided to do it back to back, wands at the ready. Draco pulled a knit cap over his head, hoping that between that and his glasses, he would be difficult to recognize.

Neither of them were prepared for what they would find.

Large parts of Diagon Alley had been reduced to smoking rubble. People in various stages of injury were stumbling around, calling for loved ones or just looking numb. It appeared that there had been a series of explosions, planted haphazardly along the winding streets. Aurors were already swarming the scene, casting spells to stabilize rubble and move injured people to safety. A dusty haze hung in the air, giving the scene a dreamlike quality.

"Harry!" someone called. A man came towards them, waving his arms. "We could use your help down that way." He pointed, and Potter nodded and started off that direction.

Draco scrambled after him. "So this was it," he panted as they jogged down the cobbled street. "This was what my father said was going to happen."

Potter didn't respond, and Draco felt a twist in his gut. Could he have prevented this? He could have tried harder to get Lucius to tell him what was going to happen.

They rounded a corner into an area where no help had yet arrived, and Potter froze in his tracks. He grew pale to the point of looking green. Draco followed his gaze to a half-destroyed shopfront. It was a moment before he recognized where he was.

"Fred!" Potter called, scrambling towards the rubble. "George!"

"Harry, wait!" Draco called, running after him. "You don't know if it's stable, or--"

Potter had disappeared from view. Draco stood in the street, not sure if he should follow. A moment later, Potter apparated in front of him, holding a limp form in his arms. It was one of the Weasley twins -- which one Draco couldn't tell.

"Take him to--"

A groaning sound from the shop next door cut Potter off. They stared at each other and listened. They could hear people crying out all around them -- cries of pain, cries for help, wordless moans.

Draco took a deep breath, trying not to feel overwhelmed. "Is he alive?"

Potter's face was blank. "I don't know. I have to go back inside."

Draco helped Potter ease the twin to the ground, then watched as he disappeared. Draco stared down at the pale face, smudged with dirt, eyes staring up at him blankly.

They worked for twenty minutes on their own, pulling bodies and survivors from the rubble. They sent up sparks to call for help, but there weren't enough people on the scene yet, and no one came to help them.

"Fucking Fallin," Harry hissed, as he eased the other Weasley twin, who was groaning and clutching his leg, to the ground. "He sends Aurors out to obliviate every Muggle who heard the attack, but not to help us here?"

Draco couldn't answer. He'd been digging through the rubble to free a child whose arm he'd spotted, but the arm turned out to be all there was.

The work went on for hours, so long that Draco lost any sense of time. Others eventually came -- healers, Aurors, survivors who weren't injured. The sun set and they worked by wand and torchlight. Draco had no idea what time it was when someone took his hand and pulled him away, down the street and into a café that hadn't been damaged. He was given a cup of tea and a pastry, and he sat against the wall and ate neither.

No one looked at him or spoke to him for a long time. His face was streaked with dirt and blood, so he doubted anyone would recognize him anyway. Someone settled beside him and touched his shoulder.

"Draco?"

It was Chang. Her face was as dirty as his, her eyes bloodshot and her dusty hair tied back. She looked concerned. "I thought that was you. Are you all right?"

Draco just stared back at her. How could he answer that question?

"Harry was looking for you before." She stood, her expression grim. "He had to tell Molly Weasley that her husband and son are dead."

Draco gaped at her. "Ron?"

"He was working in another part of the district last I heard. I don't know if he knows yet."

Draco remembered the lifeless eyes of one of the Weasley twins staring up at him then, and he forced himself to his feet. "Where's Harry now?"

They found him sitting alone in the ruins of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He didn't look up when they came in.

"I'm leaving in the morning," he said, his voice hollow. "I have to finish it."

Cho stared at him, and Draco wasn't sure if she knew what he was talking about or not. "I want to help you," she said.

"You can't," Potter told her, finally looking up. "No one can, not any more."

"They want us at the Ministry for a briefing in half an hour," she said. Her voice was tentative.

"I'm not going," Potter said. "Not when I'm needed here."

She stared at him a moment more, then nodded and gave Draco's arm a squeeze as she left.

Draco watched Potter for a moment, then settled on the ground next to him. They sat in silence for a long time.

"I can't tell you where I'm going," Potter said at last.

"It's all right," Draco replied. "You don't have to."

Potter leaned against him and sighed, sounding immensely tired.

+++++

Draco pointed his wand at the large wooden doors of the castle, and they opened with a groan. He stalked across the foyer and into the dining room where he'd had breakfast with his father only days ago. He didn't know why he'd expected to find his father there at this hour, but Lucius was there.

Draco knew he looked horrible, and he didn't care. He stopped before Lucius, panting, and glared down at him.

Lucius's eyes narrowed, but he didn't look surprised to see Draco. "I wondered when you would come."

"Did you know?" Draco spat. His fingers tightened around his wand.

Lucius didn't flinch. "I didn't know it would be so extensive. I was under the impression that a few shops belonging to Muggle-borns would be targeted, but I--"

"And you didn't think that other people would be harmed?" Draco cried. "Three people I knew from school -- Purebloods, no less -- are dead!"

Lucius stood then and towered over Draco, glaring. "I am not to blame for this! Don't you dare insinuate--"

"You could have stopped it!" Draco shouted. "You could have told me something, and I could have--"

"I didn't know," Lucius gritted.

"It could have been me!"

"It was your mother, Draco. Why do you think I've been working against the Dark Lord this last year? Why do you think I've been doing all of this?" Lucius's eyes blazed, and it was all Draco could do not to shrink back. "Wizards have been dying for months -- good people who have always supported our cause. The Dark Lord has killed and maimed them alongside Muggles and Mudbloods." He leaned forward and his voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. "I have sacrificed more than you can possibly know to fight him, while you've been doing Merlin knows what in America, not even bothering to attend your dying mother."

Draco clenched his jaw, anger swirling through him with such strength he could barely contain it. "Don't you dare suggest I didn't care about her. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret letting you drive me away."

"You left," Lucius hissed. "I tried to help you change your ways, to be a responsible adult and take your place in society, but you refused to cooperate."

"At least my mother loved me for who I am," Draco retorted.

"And she died wondering why you didn't love her enough to return to her side at the end of her life, to be the man she raised you to be."

"Shut up!" Draco growled, pressing his wand into Lucius's throat. He was shaking and in danger of losing control of his emotions, but he couldn't stop himself. "Or I'll kill you -- I swear it."

Lucius's smile was cruel, and he didn't look frightened.

Draco stalked away before his father could see the pain in his eyes.

+++++

Monday, 5 February, 2001

Draco was alone in the office all day. Weasley was with his grieving family, and Potter was still gone. Draco had spent all of Sunday working in Diagon Alley, but by the end of the day he was starting to get suspicious looks from the Aurors who were running the cleanup operation. No one knew he was in the country, and he didn't need to attract attention to himself. Besides, the effort was more organized by midday, and he was no longer needed.

Weasley had a subscription to the Daily Prophet, and it had been delivered by a scruffy-looking owl that morning. On the front page was a story about Potter's heroics on the scene and his mysterious absence afterwards. There was speculation that he had gone off to find those responsible on his own. And for all Draco knew, that was true. Potter hadn't corresponded with him at all, and Draco didn't know if he should even expect it.

He turned the page of the newspaper and scanned the stories there. The details were still trickling out of the Ministry's information office. A third of the buildings in Diagon Alley had been destroyed, and 47 people were killed. More than 100 were injured on top of that, and St. Mungo's was filled to capacity. The funerals were just starting, and the political cleanup was yet to come.

Draco shifted in his chair and groaned -- he hurt in places he didn't know he had muscles.
He felt lost and useless, and he was uncertain what he should do about that. He didn't want to think about the devastation he had seen, but it was there all the same, waiting for him to close his eyes.

He spent the afternoon searching through Potter's and Weasley's desks, looking for any information about their plan. He found nothing.

When Chang showed up at the end of the day to invite him to dinner, he was relieved to have someone to talk to at last.

+++++

"I've been here before," Draco remarked, looking around at the Indian restaurant's colorful interior. "With Harry."

Chang smiled. "He likes this place. He's funny that way -- he finds a few restaurants he likes and sticks with them. He's not exactly the adventurous type."

Draco kept his eyes on his menu and smiled. "I suppose."

"So have you heard from him?" Chang asked.

"No," Draco replied, raising an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you haven't, considering."

Chang sighed. "Just because I'm his girlfriend doesn't mean he tells me anything."

"Surprising considering who you work for, I meant. Why would you think I would know where he is?"

She took a sip of water and shrugged. "You're working together on this project. And he seems to like you quite a lot. I thought he might trust you with that information."

"If he did, he wouldn't want me to share it with anyone else," Draco remarked.

Chang's smile looked forced, which made Draco smile a bit wider.

"So you two have been together for a year? Sounds serious."

"It is, I think. You know Harry, though -- he can be so oblivious. He didn't even know it was our anniversary the other day." She grinned and winked. "He made it up to me, though."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Did he?"

She pursed her lips. "What do you think of him?"

Draco shrugged. "I like him, I suppose."

"He talks about you as if you two were becoming good friends."

Draco smiled. "That's good to know. I hope we are."

She grinned. "So do I. It would be fantastic if we could all be friends. I despise hanging around with Ron and Hermione all the time. They don't like me. I can tell."

"Don't they?" Draco tried to look shocked.

Chang scowled. "They think I'm not good enough for him, I imagine. They've no idea how much he cares about me, though." She smiled again. "So tell me -- are you dating anyone right now?"

Draco forced a smile. "No. Not really."

Chang's lips twisted a bit, as if she found something funny. "I have a friend I would love set you up with. You two would have so much in common!"

"Would we?" Draco wondered if she had any idea he was gay.

The waiter brought their first course, interrupting the conversation. Chang waited until he was out of earshot. "He works at the Ministry, and he's adorable as well. Just your type, I'd imagine."

Draco smirked. "And how would you know my type?"

Chang grinned and didn't reply.

+++++

He was awakened in the middle of the night by Potter kissing him. At first, he thought he must be dreaming, but when Potter's mouth closed over his prick, the rush of sensation made him gasp.

Potter crawled back over him and wrapped his fingers around both of their erections, pressing spit-slick skin together. Potter came first, then took his time pulling Draco off. Draco curled into him afterwards and went back to sleep.

+++++

Tuesday, 6 February, 2001

He woke up alone.

There was a note for him in the enamel box: Sorry to wake you. I just needed to touch you.

Draco put the note in his pocket and wrote Potter back: You can touch me whenever you want.

Weasley was back at the office that morning, looking tired and numb.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, standing awkwardly in front of Weasley's desk.

Weasley nodded and gave him a weak smile. "The funeral was yesterday."

"I would've come," Draco replied. He hadn't even thought to ask anyone about it. Of course, he didn't really have anyone to ask.

"It's all right," Weasley told him. "No one is supposed to know you're here, after all."

Draco took a deep breath. "Do you know where Harry is?" Weasley shook his head. "Do you know what he's doing?"

"Yes," Weasley sighed. "I do. But I can't tell you."

"I know," Draco replied, looking away. "I want to do something to help him. I feel useless."

Weasley snorted. "We all do, Malfoy."

An owl from Weasley's mother arrived shortly before lunch and he left, saying he probably wouldn't be back that day. Draco checked the small box for a note from Potter every half hour. It remained empty.

Chang showed up in time to invite him to lunch, and he didn't hesitate to accept the offer. They went shopping afterwards, something that was mildly entertaining. Chang seemed excited by the prospect of being friends with Draco, and he pretended to be enthusiastic in return. It was better than being alone.

They avoided talking about the disaster in Diagon Alley, but Draco wasn't really surprised. Walking around Muggle London, it was easy to pretend it hadn't happened at all. It was only when he was alone that the images filled his mind. Chattering with Chang about whether Potter would look better in a green or a red shirt was easier.

"Have you heard from him?" she asked, holding both shirts up and squinting at them.

"No," Draco told her. "I'm trying not to worry."

"I suppose he can't send an owl from wherever he is," she sighed, putting the green shirt away. "But then, he never was good about owling me."

Draco smiled, fingering the note in his pocket.

"I have to get back to work," she said as they left the shop. "Do you have any plans tonight? We should go out."

Draco kept his expression neutral. With everything that was going on, the last thing he wanted to do was hit the clubs. "What did you have in mind?"

"We could meet for drinks," she suggested. "I don't know about you, but I'll need one by then."

"Me too," Draco sighed.

+++++

Potter sent him two notes that afternoon. The first simply said, How are you?, to which Draco replied honestly. The second said, I'll try to visit you tonight.

Draco struggled to focus on something other than Potter or the Diagon Alley attacks, but it was difficult. He rifled through his bag, looking for a book that had an interesting chapter about memory spells in it, and found instead the paper written by the American professor, the one she'd posted to him just before he left New York. He remembered stuffing it in his bag a few days before.

He went to the Pret down the street and read it over a latte. He was only halfway through the paper when he realized he had found the answer he needed -- what they all needed. The paper described an old spell that would bind together people who wanted to commit and act of treason or robbery, something they needed to be able to trust each other to complete and keep secret afterwards. The paper even gave enough information for Draco to piece together how the spell was done. It required a potion that looked fairly straightforward to brew, though some of the ingredients might be hard to find.

Draco's heart pounded in his chest as he thought about it. Potter and Weasley had a plan for capturing Voldemort -- he was sure of it. The binding spell would provide a reason for them to trust him enough to let him help them. They needed him, more than they knew.

He spent the rest of the afternoon studying the spell and writing out the procedure for brewing the potion. He compiled a list of materials he'd need and gave it to the house-elf Ebby when he returned to the hotel. The elf seemed grateful to have a task at last, and thanked him half a dozen times before he threatened to kick it if it didn't get straight to work.

+++++

Potter didn't come that night. Draco had thought of little else during his evening out with Chang, and had even cut it short, claiming to be tired.

He lay in the darkness and stared at the ceiling, waiting and worrying. His fingers traced the lines of his mother's bracelet, something that ordinarily soothed him -- but not this time. He felt helpless, and he hated waiting.

And then it was morning, and he was still alone.

Go to the next part

Note: I didn't get a chance to reply to many comments last week, so let me say a huge THANK YOU now to everyone who commented! And yes, there really will be two more parts. They will just be very looooong... :-P

*hugs to all*