#yuji fic

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𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 (𝕐𝕦𝕛𝕚) 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Content Advisory: Fem Reader, Eventual Smut, Eventual Dark Content, Sukuna/Yuji Hybrid, Exterminator Sukuna (by day)/Rocker Ryo (by night), Reader Has Trauma, Mentions Of Being Abused (Reader), Graphic Everything (If you can't stomach content covering abuse, stalking and sexual assault this isn't a fic you want to read. I'm going all in), Bartender Reader, Reader has a kitty and a cat (lol). ~ I might have missed something but I'm sure I covered the triggering stuff. ~ WC: 3k words. A/N: The chapter titles sometimes have links to songs of the same name. If you want to listen while you read, it's an option. Minors do not interact with my works. Ageless blogs and underaged blogs will be blocked.

ᴛʜʀᴏᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ

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ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 1: 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎. 𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛. 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛… 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚔𝚢𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘��� 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗, 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛. “𝚂𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚙, 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝. 

𝚃𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚘𝚑 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎.

𝚃𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝙷𝚘𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚞𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚕.

𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟻 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚟𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙱𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑, 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜, 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝙽𝙿𝙲.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚞𝚙/𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚢𝚕𝚎, 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚍-𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚏. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚢.

𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐. “𝚂𝚊𝚞𝚌𝚢 𝙱𝚘𝚢,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚢 𝚞𝚙, “𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗’.”

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 ‘𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢’ 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚍. 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚒-𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐-𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕.

𝙰𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜. 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚊𝚙𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝, “𝚐𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌,” 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢. “𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔’ 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. “𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌!” 

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗. 𝙰 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜-𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗-𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕, "𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑?" 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜, 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎.

“𝙿𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕. 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙,” 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚍-𝚞𝚙 𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 ‘𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗.’ 𝚄𝚙 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜. 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔. 𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍… 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚘𝚗? 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍.

“𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍. 𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗'𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎.

“𝚂𝚘, 𝚞𝚑, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛?…” 𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗, 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏𝚏. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 .

“𝚈-𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚔𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.

𝙲𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚋𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜— 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝚆𝚊𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚢.

𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠.

𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚢𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚔𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎��𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚛.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚐 𝚣𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚋.

𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝.

𝙷𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙰𝚍𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍, “𝙺𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗?”

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚜—𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛.

𝙼𝚢, 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗…

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙳𝙹 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚙 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛.

𝙽𝚘, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝙱.𝙾. 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕, 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢.

“𝙰𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝙰𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗. "𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜," 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛-𝚘𝚏-𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝙰𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘��𝚎.

𝙴𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍-𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎-𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚒𝚛-𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 '𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢'. 𝚂𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚂𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕. 𝚂𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚜. 

𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕-𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. "𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎." 𝙷𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛, 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎- 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐- 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚜.

"𝚂𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢?" 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝙶𝚘𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚙.

"𝙿𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗' 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐," 𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖. 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌.

"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚜?"

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚑𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑. “𝙽𝚘𝚙𝚎," 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍, 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚙'. "𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚂𝚊𝚞𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎.”

𝙷𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜�� 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙱𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚕.

“𝚂𝚊𝚞𝚌𝚎?” 𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚐 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚐 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ���𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎. 𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚜… 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍.

“𝙼𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢.” 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍… 𝚜𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠.

𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢.

“𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛… 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢?” 𝙷𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗, 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏.

𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚞𝚙, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

“𝙲𝚊𝚝, 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜. 𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕.

 “𝚄𝚑 𝚑𝚞𝚑… 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚒𝚝?” 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙷𝚘𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚞𝚌𝚎. “𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗’,” 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚕𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙷𝚘𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚞𝚌𝚎.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏, 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚜𝚘, 𝙷𝚘𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚞𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢.

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚠��𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚡 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚙 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

“𝙽𝚘 𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚎, 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚍. 𝙳𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢,” 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚔, 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙷𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎? 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.

“𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜,” 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢. "𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍."

"𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚍," 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙸𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔.

𝚃𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚐 𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚝-𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚎-𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚂𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑. 𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚜𝚑. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 ��𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. “𝚂𝚘, 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕-𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚐?” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜.

𝙷𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎. “𝙽𝚊𝚑, 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚓𝚘𝚋. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.” 𝙿𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠. 

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚊: 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜. 

𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙰 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 ����𝚙 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 ‘𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝’. 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎? 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙰 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛? 𝙰 𝚙𝚒𝚖𝚙? 𝙾𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕? “𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜?”

"𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎," 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝. "𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚕𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗’ 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛," 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎, 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠��𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

𝚁𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜.

“𝙱𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖,” 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚢. “𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝,” 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔. 𝙾𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝, 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎.

“𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔–  𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕, 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙾𝚛 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚕𝚎, 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍– 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚗𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚟𝚎–  𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢. “𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞,” 𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢.

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[niki-phoria]

Hello! It's one of my first times asking for something, so forgive me if it seems strange or if I spell something wrong! Feel free to ignore this too!

I was looking at your Jjk list and realized that our beautiful boy Yuuji doesn't have a story there yet, so I had an idea!

something like Itadori and Reader (gn or male) were in a fight together, and Sukuna ends up appering to deal with the whole situation, and as a result, he ends up hurting the reader on purpose to bother Yuuji, so he is left feeling very bad and guilty , so ends up “ignoring” reader, because he keep blaming himself

I only thought until this part (srry), I would like an ending with something cute and fluff ig? 👉👈 (i like angst with a happy ending)

WEREN'T WE THE STARS IN HEAVEN?

pairing: itadori yuuji x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: angst word count: 758

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, poorly written fight scene

notes: thank you so much !! i hope you like it :)) split this into two parts to make it easier to write lol, possibly ooc sukuna but i did my best, title from adrianne lenker - anything

part 02 here !!

shibuya is empty. desolate, even. eerily so. even after spending only a few months in tokyo, ITADORI YUUJI had grown accustomed to the noise. the bustling crowds and noisy tourists had become commonplace - almost a comfort at the end of a long night. if nothing else, at least the people were safe. 

until they weren’t. 

your lungs burn as you race through the remains of shibuya station. the walls are splattered with a mixture of blood and curse remains. there are no longer complaints from people about being trapped inside of the station. there are no longer stray groans from mahito’s transformed humans. there are no longer screams of terror. 

you feel sick.

you force yourself to run faster when you see a figure standing in the distance, near what remains of the bathrooms. water seeps across the tiles from nearby, probably damaged in the midst of a fight. “yuuji!”

he doesn’t have a visible reaction. your footsteps slow to a stop as you take in the sight of him. his clothes are ripped and tattered but there are no visible injuries on his body. beneath the flickering lights above, you can just barely make out the blood stains littering his clothing.

“yuuji?” 

he turns to face you, smirking over his shoulder. you take a step backwards, shoes slipping on a puddle of water on the floor. there’s a dark glint in his eyes - one that you’ve never seen before. “not anymore.”

“sukuna,” your breath hitches. 

he frowns, mockingly pouting as he begins walking towards you. “that’s not how you should address your lord.”

anger flares in your chest. your hands curl into fists, nails digging into your palms. you grit your teeth, aiming towards sukuna’s jaw as you swing. 

he evades it easily, languidly pushing his hands into his pockets. “i’m hurt, y/n,” he mocks. “i can’t believe you would hit your own boyfriend.”

“shut up!” another swing. another miss.

sukuna laughs. he watches you with amusement; like you’re an ant beneath his foot he’s pushing around just for the sake of his own entertainment. 

he’s fast. almost faster than your own reflexes. your punches only ever meet air as he dances around you. “does it bother you?” sukuna asks. his breath ghosts against your ear as he leans in. “knowing that yuuji’s power comes from a curse. does it scare you?”

you swallow your insults, instead focusing your attention on aiming your punches at the right time. he frowns. “ignoring me now? that won’t do.”

sukuna raises his leg, swiftly landing a hit against your side. you’re barely given time to react before your body slams into the wall. 

the pain comes hard and fast. it’s agonizing. it feels like you’re on fire. every part of your body begs you to give up; to lay down and crumble into a ball on the ground. but you can’t. you won’t. 

blood pools in your mouth, dripping down the corners of your lips. debris surrounds you. you can feel pieces of rock and concrete digging into your hands as you push yourself up onto your hands and knees.

your attempts are quickly ripped away when sukuna kicks your side once again. you land on your back this time, staring up at the ceiling through blurry vision. your head aches. 

“pathetic human.” sukuna smirks over you. the heel of his boot digs into your chest, pushing your body down further into the rubble. your eyes flutter shut. if you’re going to die, you’re not going to give sukuna ryomen the satisfaction of being the last thing you see. 

the force of sukuna’s weight forces a weak cough out of your lungs. he raises his foot once again before he pauses, humming to himself. “i wonder what the brat would think of this.”

time seems to still as your consciousness begins to slip. you can feel yourself growing weaker. your breaths are shallower. it’s harder to get air into your lungs. your racing heartbeat has also slowed. it no longer pounds loudly in your ears. instead, a dull ringing has replaced the noise.

nothing feels real. yuuji is yelling your name. he’s on his knees; his face hovers over you. 

yuuji looks different. the black marks across his skin have disappeared, leaving only pale skin behind. hands that have the power to snap bones and destroy buildings are gentle as they cup your cheeks. he wipes away blood and dust and tears.

“yuuji,” you whisper. at least, you try to. and then-

the world goes black. 

shibuya is empty.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[bridgetotheskyyy]

heliophilia.

summary: your relationship with yuji ends.

warnings: nsfw, 18+, sadfic, like UNBELIEVABLY sad fic, brief sex scene, breakup, depression, aged up characters, heavy angst, slight fluff in flashbacks.

word count: 2.1k (has no business being this long tbh lol)

a/n: idek where I was mentally when I wrote this trauma so don't ask me lmao. sometimes a bitch feels like crying. Heliophilia: (n.)// Pronunciation: hE-lE-O-‘fil-E-a // Origin: English // Definition: Desire to stay in the sun; Love of sunlight

read on ao3 here.

“I’m sorry,” Yuji’s voice fractured, resisting tears. Emotion was so pronounced in his atonement you could feel the pain living in his throat in your own. “I’m so, so sorry, (Y/n) …”

You faced away from him, back turned from him. Your nails bit into the leather of your jacket so. Your face hot, the threat of tears in your eyes, as well. You tried to focus on the blissful white noise of the fountain, pouring forth its waters in elegant streams, and not Yuji’s aching, agonized breathing.

“It all works out, doesn’t it?” You choked. “If you’re really sorry, you can use all this misery to fuel your cursed energy, can’t you? Not a total loss then —“

“Don’t talk like that!”

Yuji gripped your shoulders, forcefully turning you to face him. 

“I love you!” he pleaded. “You know that! Don’t you ever say things like that! I love you, I just — I can’t — we can’t —“

Then why are you hurting me? You wanted to scream back. But you knew — that horrible, sickly type of knowing, like the looming death of a loved one or the scent of a lie — that Yuji was not breaking up with you because he didn’t love you. That wasn’t it. Silence stretched between the two of you in the edenic park and it carried the weight of years, filling the agonizing space.

Then why are you hurting me? 

I love you but I’m a sorcerer. I love you but I’m Sukuna’s vessel. I love you but everything’s dying around me. I love you but I couldn’t protect Junpei and one day I won’t be able to protect you, either. 

You found yourself laser-focused on Yuji’s hands pressed into your shoulders and wanted to prolong his touch. Finally, the tears began to fall, along with a sob that ransacked your lungs. You lowered your gaze to his chest, the urge to sink into him astounding. 

“I love you,” Yuji repeated. “Please believe me …” 

Please believe me. 

I do. 

You managed the last remnants of your strength to pull away from Yuji, one last time. You resisted the heavying ache in your chest as Yuji sunk to his knees, hugging yours. You yanked him away, walking away from the fountain. 

“Goodbye, Yuji.” 

In hindsight, you would never understand how the possibility of it being the final time you ever saw your ex-boyfriend Yuji didn’t bring you running back to him. 

But you kept walking.

----------------

You flicked the blaring red reject button so hard on your phone it almost fled from your hand, slamming it on the nightstand and sinking back into the grove of sheets.

He wouldn’t stop calling.

It had started that night, having gotten back to your apartment. Thank the gods you lived alone; you broke everything in plain sight. By the time it was over, you were slumped onto the hallway floor, the kitchen floor a sea of broken plate glass, the pillows emptied of their stuffing, vases destroyed. All culminating in your neighbors hurriedly running over, thumping on the door, asking are you okay, we heard crashing, god, we thought there was a fight, are you sure you’re alone? Are you safe? Should we call the cops?

You waved them off best you could, but surely you were not nearly as convincing as you wanted to be with tear-reddened eyes and a croaked voice. 

Just a hard time, is all. Just anxiety. I’m going through it, okay? I’ll be fine. 

You refused to talk, but that hardly mattered — once it all hushed down, Yuji started. 

Messages. Dms. Snapchat. Instagram. Anything he could use you get a hold of you was used to try and talk to you, clear things up, explain. You disabled it all, ironically thankful for the isolation his insistence was situating you in. And somehow you managed to get to sleep that night.

Now, two days later, the ritual was the same. Your phone blared to life, ringing a tone you now thought horrible into the air. You would rush to reject it, slam on nightstand, back to bed.

Rinse, lather, repeat. 

You didn’t rise. You didn’t eat. Papers dedicated to different classes sprawled on your office desk, unsure of when you’d be able to get to any of it. Probably never; college seemed such a distant, small thing in the face of losing Yuji, hardly worth a paltry thought in your mind. 

Five, afternoon passed. No call. By now, Yuji had to have been persuaded by someone else to stop hounding you — Megumi, probably discouraging him, even taking his phone away from him, maybe. 

You’d never know. 

Another thought, this one piercing your heart with unexpected ferocity — you even bucked as it arrived to upset you:

Maybe he was dead.

You’d never know. 

Whatever relief you had felt as the hour passed into another and no call livened your phone was gone, replaced with grief. 

And … longing. 

You would’ve done anything to talk to him. 

Please, you thought, twisting toward your nightstand, eyeing your phone. Please, call again. I promise I’ll pick up. Yuji …    Your phone did nothing, resting on your stand, black and unresponsive. 

---------------

The first thing you grew to miss was his voice. 

Your mornings would begin with his soft acknowledgment before being accompanied by lips pressed to your forehead — “Morning, (Y/n).” — your evenings full with Yuji, tailing you around the apartment, helping you with chores, telling all about some new show he’d binged over the weekend of some new movie he snuck off to see. 

It was … so quiet now. The silence lived in your ears, so pronounced it served as its own sound. After a few days, you felt well enough to at least clean up what you had destroyed. After the chaos you had caused all that remained was a trashed apartment and uncomfortable tranquility. 

The process of cleaning bestowed on you a new ache to refresh the others; usually at times like this. Cleaning day, at any normal time in your life — 

“And then he picked up the bad guy’s gun,” Yuji continues, absentmindedly clearing the table of trash, dropping items into the large black trash bag.

“Mhm,” you hum back loving, reaching on your tiptoes to dust behind a picture frame. “Yeah?” 

“And he shoots the bad guy and he misses,” Yuji awes from behind you, “only he doesn’t miss — they just make us think he misses because when the camera cuts back he’s —“

“Yuji?” you turn to him, eyebrows raised.

Yuji’s cheeks are reddening. “Heh. Sorry, was I rambling again?” 

“It’s okay,” You drop the duster to the floor, peck him on the cheek. “Let’s just finish cleaning this table.” 

But of course, he doesn’t stop — Yuji is excited and bubbly, especially when he helps you, and his anecdotes from movies, or shows, or sorcerer life, distract you from the grunt work of cleaning day — or any day.

You were miserably aware of the ringing silence, nestled in the space Yuji’s voice used to live as you cleared the table of plastic cups and empty plates all on your own.

----------------

The second thing you grew to miss was his kiss. 

Yuji had been your first kiss and your lips craved the attention of his. 

You were in class, your college professor rambling about some eighteen-hundreds writer while you twiddled your pencil. You bit into your lips hoping to satiate them, but it only worsened your yearning. The classroom began to fall away as memory tugged at your mind. 

“(Y/n).” 

Yuji’s voice carries your name so tenderly you almost fail to recognize it. You look at him as the first round of fireworks explodes in the summer night’s sky. 

“New Year’s Eve, Yu-Yu,” you said, your own soft voice trembling. “Did you make a wish?”

“Wish? Heh, No, but there … is something I wanted to do.”

You part your lips as Yuji eliminates the space between the two of you, inch by cursed inch.

You swallow, letting the moment hang as sparks fly behind Yuji’s head. 

“What?” You ask.

But your inquiry dies away as Yuji banishes the final inch. 

His lips descend on yours. Soft, warm, sweet. He moves little, tentative, before your arms wrap around his shoulders and invite him closer. 

“(Y/n), I —“ 

You refuse his words, cupping the back of Yuji’s head to re-close the gap between you. 

He doesn’t attempt to speak again, pressing you against the railing of the park while his lips caress yours. Fireworks whistle behind you as they combust in the sky, showering down in luculent streams.

 His kisses, then and thereafter, are loving, lingering — gentle until they are not; the union of lips dissolves into sloppy angles and reddened lips. Harsh breaths and Yuji bucking into your body, eager for more.

“Miss (Y/n)!” 

You jerked. Raised your head. 

“I have a hard time believing you’ve not heard your name once these past seven times I’ve called it,” Your professor glared.

No, I haven’t. 

“I’m sorry, professor. Repeat the question, please.”

Your hand balled in your fist. You shouldn’t miss him. You shouldn’t miss him. 

But you do. And the list of things you’ll miss will only continue to grow.

-----------------

The third thing you grew to miss was his touch. 

You shifted on the couch, painfully aware of the lack of Yuji’s presence at your back, snuggling into you from behind, legs intertwined into yours. 

“Yuji …” you giggle. “Stop it …” 

“What?” Yuji snuggles the back of your neck before finding his way into your crook. “I’m not even …” 

Language dies as the two of you collapse into giggles. The tv plays a movie neither of you hold much interest in now that Yuji’s finds his way into your shirt, tickling the sensitive flesh at your sides. 

“Yuji!”

“What?” he patterns your neck with kisses, pressing you closer to him with an armlock around your waist. He is so strong and holds you to him as you squirm. 

Finally, you give in, cupping his face with your hand, you bring him in for a kiss. He hums into the kiss and reciprocates immediately, pressing into you properly — 

A gunshot from a crime show you left on yanked you into reality. You blinked, sunk into the sheets, letting the tv’s artificial light fall over you. 

Reality, where the blankets cannot compare to the boy you have lost. 

-------------------

But the thing you’d miss the most? 

Yuji warms his cock inside of you as you burn red, hot lines into his back with your nails. He stains your perspired forehead with kisses as he empties his seed into you. His hips swerve, providing friction to your exhausted clit. You whine into his shoulder, furrowing your brow as your orgasm takes you.

“Ah — ah …! Yuji …!” 

Yuji rocks into you a few more times, crescendoing your climax before hooking a hand underneath your knee and rolling in bed so you are side by side. You bite your lip, grind your clit on his strong thigh before settling, resting your head on his shoulder.

The silence is effortlessly serene and comfortable. 

But Yuji breaks the silence. “(Y/n)?”  

You smile, looking up at him from your place on his chest. “Yeah?” 

“I …” he looks away, blush flourishing on his face. “I really love you alot, you know?” 

You match his blush with one of your own as your eyes widen. Yuji overcomes some of his embarrassment to caress your cheek with his hand.

“I …” You trail, placing a hand over the one that currently holds your face. “I love you, too, Yuji.”

Even worn from sex, Yuji manages to perk, light coming to his mocha eyes. He smiles back at you.

“That’s good.” 

You kiss his cheek, settling by his side for the night.

Yuji is the only warmth you know and the only light you recognize. You allow him to blanket you, shield you from any cold that exists. 

“Thanks for that.”  

You leaned against the headboard, a thousand-mile stare burning into the wall opposite to you. The aftermath of your sex slumped horribly in your stomach. Your guest zipped up his pants, reaching for his shirt next.

“Yeah,” You replied, absentminded and silent. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Next time, okay?” 

Your insides screamed to reject but instead:

“Yeah, okay.” 

Your one-night stand left, leaving you thudding your head against the headboard. It hadn’t been bad, even unpleasant, it had been … fine. Cold. Impersonal. Impartial. You had never had fine. Not with Yuji.

Yuji, you grieved. 

You turned your head to your phone, your hope of Yuji’s call blown out by its perennial blackness. 

You clutched a hand to your heart, hollowed out from longing. 

His love came last.

[arrja]

Sukuna finds a strange creature in the forest and decides to bring it home

Fanart inspired by- The Child With Marks on AO3 (Make sure to check it out!)

[sqtorux]

a long nap

their reactions when you take a long nap and don't reply to them

includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, yuji, megumi, yuta and toge

» requested !

[hinamie]

"I'll show you every day that choosing to live was worth it"

some of my favourite scenes from @hijinks-n-lowjinks' fic things i would miss from the other side . this fic tore my heart out fr but like in a good way and i wanted to pay it homage the only way i know how <3

[tired-biscuit]

I licked it so it’s mine

pairing: stepbrother!yuuji/fem!reader

premise: After a long day of work, you decide to make use of the empty house by having some drinks and a movie night with your older stepbrother. Eventually, one drink turns into two, two become three, and so on. As the buzz of the alcohol progressively fills you with more and more courage, interesting things commence.

cw: 18+ MDNI. stepcest, ‘in the flurry of the moment’ setting, no curses AU, characters are in their 20s, intoxication, dubcon, implied corruption, coersion and pressuring from reader, descriptions of size difference, manhandling and roughness — poor yuuji gets a little too into it in the end.

wc: 6.7k

divider credit: @/adornedwithlight

———

Your big stepbrother Yuuji is likeable. He always has been.

To be fair, what is there not to like? When it comes to his looks, Yuuji is tall, handsome, a proud owner of a pair of pretty honey-coloured eyes that make him resemble a puppy, and an even prettier smile. Every summer, his skin gets this wonderful, almost golden tan that makes him outright glow from within, and his face gets sun-kissed, causing his already rosy cheeks to get dotted with tiny, barely visible freckles that gather under his eyes and only enhance his cuteness.

However, after living with him for so long, you’ve since learned that he rarely actually pays attention to his appearance, much less dresses to impress.

After all, Yuuji is a simple man. He does not care about clothes besides the level of comfort they provide, and yet he still somehow manages to achieve victory. Catching girls checking him out when he’s in nothing but his trusty pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt is a common occurrence. Even listening to flustered whispers and giggles has turned into a regular thing at this point.

On top of all that, he’s also nice. Kind and open and warm – you could use so many more positive words to describe your stepbrother’s wonderful personality, but you’re pretty sure that they’d never do it justice. Perhaps the only bad thing you could say about him is that he’s too nice. Too helpful and giving.

Especially towards the people who don’t deserve it.

And as you watch him from the corner of your eye now, hanging out at the park and licking the ice cream that he’d treated you to as a reward for beating him in his favourite video game, you try to consider yourself as one of the people who do deserve his everlasting kindness. Who do deserve to be treated nicely by him, and to hear the laughter in his voice, and to accept his almost naive generosity.

It’s a nice day out today. The wooden park bench that you’re sitting on currently is warm from the setting sun that still filters through the leaves above your heads. Small, moving patches of light and shadow linger everywhere, causing you to stare, almost mesmerized, as some of them lazily continue to dance across your big brother’s face.

Yuuji’s arms are splayed wide open and draped on either side of the worn backrest that you’re both leaning against. He’s finished his ice cream ages ago, so now he’s got his legs outstretched and his head angled up towards the sky, enjoying the peaceful tranquility that this year’s summer brings. 

There are quite a few people out and about in the park during this time of day – most of them joggers and dog walkers that are using the slightly cooler temperatures to their benefit – but if you listen closely, you can make out distant shouting and laughter coming from a group of children who are occupying the playground that’s on the other side of the trees.

The sound makes you feel kind of old, so you zero in on your sandals to keep yourself busy.

“Remember when you used to scream like that?”

“What?” 

When you turn your head to the side again, Yuuji’s gaze looks expectant.

“Back when we were kids,” he explains, jerking his chin towards the direction of the playground. “You got all shrieky and high-pitched whenever it was my turn to chase you, remember? Made you sound like a deflating balloon just by running in your direction.”

“Oh!” You take another lick of your ice cream, fully flattening the scoop before sinking your teeth into the edge of the cone. The scent of strawberries fills your nose in an instant. “In my defense, that probably happened because I didn’t like playing tag with you all that much.” 

He quirks an eyebrow at this, intrigued. “How so?”

“Well, for starters, your legs were longer than mine, which made you catch up so fast that it wasn’t fun for me anymore. Aaand your hands were also always sticky for some reason,” you reply, still chewing on the wafer. “It was gross.”

“Wow, okay.” He rolls his eyes but it immediately gets followed by a brief chuckle that escapes his lips. “Excuse me for trying to be a little bit sentimental with my clean freak of a baby sister.”

“I’m normal… You’re just nasty,” you fire back, smiling when he goes to playfully shove you.

His hand is warm when it lands on your shoulder; so warm, in fact, that you can feel the rise in temperature even through the sleeve of the thin, cropped T-shirt that you’ve put on this morning. 

It doesn’t take you by surprise. For as long as you’ve known him, Yuuji has been one to have blood as hot as molten lava running through his veins. You’re unsure how he survives it whenever the weather is scorching hot, like today for example – August has always proved to be a bitch whenever it comes to heat – but so far he seems to be doing just fine.

And while it may be weird to some, him being hot-blooded is the reason why you sometimes like to drag him into your bed during the winter months, when it’s cold and you come back home from work feeling like your toes have turned half-frozen in your shoes. Besides being provided with good company, he’s also like your own personal heater.

And that’s it. There’s nothing else to it; how could it be when he’s your stepbrother, for crying out loud! You grew up together and have lived under the same roof for years. He’s walked into your room just to leave the lights on and the door open so many times. You’ve endured his godawful Fortnite phase and have seen him be at his worst just as he did with you. The only feelings that you harbour for him are strictly platonic. 

You’re both pretty set on that.

“I should take that ice cream from ya as a form of punishment for being so mean to me,” said stepbrother teases now, pulling you back from your thoughts. When you look up at him, he’s grinning like a little boy. From ear to ear and in a way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Cute.

“Nu-uh,” you respond, allowing the evidently distrustful tone to lace your voice. “I licked it so it’s mine.”

“Tsch.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Like that’s ever been an issue before. C’mon, give.” 

“It is for me because unlike you, I’m not- Hey!” Before you can finish your sentence, he swipes the ice cream from your hand, successfully stealing it right in front of your nose.

You glare at him now, brow slightly furrowed in annoyance, as Yuuji proceeds to lick the melting sweet with exaggerated delight. Since whatever was left of the scoop sank deeper into the cone, you realize that you’re unexpectedly intrigued by the fact that he needs to push his tongue out a little more to get to it. 

And he does; of course he does. He twirls it across the flat, creamy surface, and it’s not long before the inside of his mouth is coated in milky pink and there’s a hum of overly satisfied approval sounding from the back of his throat.

You’re unsure how to feel about the entire thing, but you definitely don’t dwell on it.

“Mmm,” he purrs, squeezing his eyes shut. He even makes sure to go as far as to smack his lips. “Mmm-mmm-mm! So good.”

For whatever reason, you feel your stomach do a weird spin as you listen to the sounds he’s making now. It’s like there’s an instant flash of heat searing through your body, similar to the pesky one that you get in the middle of the night when you’re hormonal and on your period, but before you can even properly acknowledge it, it’s gone as fast as it came.

“Again: you’re so gross,” you manage to say with a huff that’s supposed to be disapproving but doesn’t sound like that at all. The shake of your head that you add to the jab also feels somewhat unnatural. Every one of your mannerisms does, actually.

Yuuji, seemingly blissfully ignorant of your inner turmoil, laughs before he takes a giant bite out of the side of the cone and finally hands it back to you.

“Hey, at least my hands ain’t sticky this time.”

———

The house is empty when you come back home that evening.

This too is not much of a surprise, really. Your parents have been gone for the last couple of days, enjoying their yearly vacation to the seaside that neither you nor Yuuji could attend this time because of your work schedules. 

So while your mom and his dad are basking in the sun and drinking sugary cocktails, you’re waking up at six in the morning every day to make it to your dull desk job in time, and he’s stuck flipping burgers at McDonalds and honing his social skills in the drive-through booth for eight hours every day.

Poor, poor you.

“Did you see the drinks they’re having over there? Gosh,” Yuuji grumbles on this exact topic as he throws himself onto the couch and flicks the TV on. His expression looks mildly conflicted at the list of movies he’s being offered by the streaming service you’re both leeching off of, but it eases back into neutral as soon as he rests his feet atop the coffee table and crosses his ankles. “They even had those fancy umbrellas on the top and everythin’.”

“There, there,” you say, quickly patting his knee before sitting down beside him. You’re not sure why, but you pay extra attention to the small sliver of distance that you keep between his leg and your own now. The feeling from earlier didn’t fully go away yet, so touching him or him touching you still feels kind of odd.

Meanwhile, Yuuji doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all, because now he’s resting his head against your shoulder, invading your personal space whilst he pouts.

The action is nothing unusual for him – it’s normal, he does it all the time – and yet you still swallow thickly, trying to ignore the sudden hyper awareness. 

“What is it now, you big baby?” you manage to muster out, taking the remote from him.

“Eh… It’s nothing,” he says.

“Aha,” you say.

“Well… It’s just that I want nachos and cocktails with fancy umbrellas, too!” he bristles at your prodding, pressing the side of his face even further into your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek because of it.

“We have nachos at home,” you utter, trying to avoid the ticklish sensation.

“Yeah. Shitty tortilla chips that come in a bag, with a side of tasteless dip from the fridge,” he quips. “Yum.”

You stifle your laughter. He’s making such a big deal out of a silly thing like nachos. “I’m pretty sure they all come in a bag, Yuu��� Come to think of it, theirs are probably stored in one of those big, wholesale bags that most food places get.”

“Well, I want the wholesale ones, then.”

“You’re pretty set on this, huh?”

He just gives you a look.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you ramble, pulling back just enough to make him lift his head and look at you properly. “How about… we try to make semi-decent nachos and cocktails with what we have, and have ourselves a little movie night since we’re both off work tomorrow and we definitely deserve it after all the pain and suffering we’re going through?”

Yuuji muses. “All you do at your job is sit behind a desk all day.”

You feel your eyes narrow. “So?”

“So,” he says, sounding smug. “I’d hardly call that pain and suffering.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you chide. “I wasn’t aware that your job also consisted of crawling underneath barbed wire and coming face to face with excruciating death between all those burgers you flip.”

He pokes you in the side for the insult. After jumping a little bit at the ticklish sensation, you make sure to immediately return the favour.

“Do you want those cocktails or not, Ronald McDonald?”

Yuuji stretches his arms above his head and yawns before he gets ready to stand up. “Yeah, yeah… Let’s make ‘em fancy.”

He follows you into the kitchen then, where you both work to recreate the vacation food and drinks to the best of your – and your pantry’s – capabilities. 

The nachos end up being surprisingly decent after you sprinkle some shredded cheese on top and give them a spin in the microwave. The cocktails, on the other hand, are a mixture of cheap wine from the corner store and coke, adorned with pieces of sliced pineapple at the top because you sadly ran out of cute paper umbrellas, much to Yuuji’s disappointment.

Though in the end, everything works out just fine.

You have yourselves a nice, perhaps you could even call it relaxing kind of evening. You change into your comfortable pyjama shorts and tank top, he gets rid of his T-shirt because he prefers being shirtless during the summer, and you play a couple rounds of his favourite game again; all of which you lose because Yuuji decides that he isn’t holding back this time. Afterwards, you watch a movie that isn’t all that good necessarily, but isn’t half bad either, and take rather hefty sips of your makeshift cocktails.

By the time the credits start to roll, you’re both feeling a little buzzed and warm in the face. Neither of you feels like calling it a night just yet, though – being off work the next day at the same time happens so rarely, after all – so you decide on watching something equally as uneventful and drinking some more.

So that is how both yourself and Yuuji end up drinking more than you’d initially planned. The alcohol becomes easier to swallow down when you’ve already numbed out your taste buds and have adapted them to the cheap, shitty wine flavour. It even makes the pineapple slices look cool.

And now you’re both drunk. Not shitfaced, per se, but definitely more than tipsy. Enough that it’s making your vision a little bit blurry around the edges, your limbs soft and pliant, and your mind fuzzy. Enough that it’s making you feel like you could do just about anything you’d set your mind to.

You’re both giggling like morons as you sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch. He’s desperately trying to tell you a story about one of his co-workers, who, according to him, is supposed to be very weird, but he keeps on slurring his words and keeps on losing track so often that it’s making the entire thing outright incomprehensive.

“Dude-” Your voice falters as yet another set of giggles pushes its way out. Goddamn alcohol. “You have got to stop laughing and tell me whatever it is you want to tell me about this weirdo, because if you don’t, I swear to god that I’m going to fucking lose my shit.”

“Listen… Jus’ listen-” 

“I am listening, you dumbass!” you interrupt, reaching over to flick his forehead. He flinches at the action.

“No, but like,” he mumbles now, rubbing the aching spot. “I want to tell you, but at the same time… I kind of don’t.”

This instantly succeeds in sparking your interest. There’s something he’s unsure about telling you? How curious; you tell each other everything!

You lean forward slightly, resting your elbows on your knees. “How so?”

Yuuji’s eyes flicker towards the television for a quick second. The movie is still playing – it bathes half of his face with light and the other half in shadows. 

Much to your bafflement, he sheepishly bites his lip before he says, “‘Cause it’s a secret.”

“A secret? Really?” You groan as you grab the small decorative pillow just so that you can throw it his way. Despite his intoxicated state, he’s still rather quick to deflect it. It lands on the ground soundlessly.

“What was that for?” he asks now, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I dunno,” you say, bristling. “Did it maybe ever cross your mind that telling me that is only gonna make me want to hear it more?”

“I mean,” he says, scratching the back of his head and shrugging. “I guess…?”

You give him a pointed glare. “You know how much I love secrets, Yuu!”

“I know.”

“Then tell me!”

“No.”

You pout in answer, clearly unsatisfied.

Yuuji looks at you, his expression slipping into something that’s a bit more sincere and apologetic. He watches as you continue to avoid eye contact and push out your bottom lip, clearly trying to appear upset as much as you possibly can in order to get him to change his mind.

Sooner or later, it ends up working.

A person like him is so giving… Who is he to ever tell you no?

“Oh, fine,” he says, sighing with defeat. “Just pinky promise that you won’t tell anyone, okay?”

Your grin is pleasantly lazy because of the alcohol that’s still coursing your veins as you chirp, “Of course.”

He hooks your pinkies together and shakes them from side to side lightly as if it’ll help solidify the promise better.

“So, what’s the secret?” you ask when you pull your hand back and use it to support your cheek.

After a short moment of silence, he finally forces himself to blurt out, “My co-worker, he, uh… He thinks you’re hot.”

You stare at him, arching one eyebrow. “Wait, that’s it?”

Yuuji can feel his entire face tingling with heat now. The blush that steadily continues to bloom makes his skin slightly itchy, but he refrains from scratching it. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You watch him closely. 

“What?” he inquires, not liking the fact that you aren’t saying anything. The flush of red has crept down to his neck now.

“You’re lying,” you reply at long last, expression blank.

He sputters when he inhales a sharp breath, ready to defend himself. “Am not!”

You throw another pillow at him. He avoids this one, too. “Are too!”

“Stop throwing stuff at me!”

“I will, if you tell me the secret!”

“I already did!”

“The actual secret, dumbass!”

“Fine… Fine! Ugh,” he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He also said that, umm…”

You enthusiastically gesture at him to continue when his voice fades into nothing again. Curiosity is threatening to eat you alive at this point. “Yes? He said what?”

“He said-” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. “He basically told me that if you were his stepsister, that he would’ve been all over you ages ago. Or whatever.”

You stare at him once more. He stares right back.

“What?” he asks again, this time slightly more nervous. His pupils are huge and the blush is starting to make him sweat. “What is it?”

After a moment that seems like forever, you repeat, “...That’s it?”

Yuuji feels like his heart has dropped to his ass. “What d’you mean that’s it?!”

“Exactly what I said,” you say, shrugging. “Your co-worker has a ‘Oh no, stepbro, I’m stuck’ fantasy. So what?”

“I-” Yuuji’s eyebrows draw so tightly together until there’s a small v etched between them. He pauses for a long time before he says, “Don’t you think that’s weird, though?”

“Not really.” You take another small sip from your glass and place it back onto the coffee table. “I mean, have you never noticed how popular it is in porn? Lots of people are into that kind of stuff.”

“N-no…” He stutters, somehow succeeding in turning even redder in the face. “I don’t-”

“Watch porn?” you offer quickly, already rolling your eyes.

“Not porn like that,” he quips, suddenly sounding uncharacteristically snippy. 

You chuckle at the tone he uses, attempting to tame the upward curl of your lips. Things are getting interesting and dirty – something you don’t get to encounter a lot whenever it comes to golden boy over here. “Well, what kind of porn do you watch, then?”

Oh, that is very bold. If it weren’t for the liquid courage, you doubt you’d dare ask the question. But it’s out in the open now.

Hanging in the tense air that’s between you two. Waiting. Preying.

“Not the stepsister kind,” he says in a low mutter, surprising you that he even chose to answer. “I’m not into that.”

You can’t help but let the smile show now. “How can you know if you’ve never seen it?”

Yuuji gawks before letting out a nervous laugh. “...What?”

“I said,” you repeat, leaning ever so slightly closer. Enough to make him feel on edge, but not enough to scare him away. “How can you know that you’re not into it-” There’s another pause, another closing of distance. His freckles are visible now. “If you’ve never seen it? Hmm?”

“I just-” He tenses up when your knee bumps into his. The short moment of contact is electrifying for some reason; it jumpstarts his heart into a far quicker rhythm. “I just, uh, do.”

You look him directly in his sweet honey eyes. “Yeah?”

And he immediately rushes to break eye contact. “Yeah.”

“You know,” you trail off innocently, patting his knee this time instead of ‘accidentally’ bumping it. Unlike before, though, your hand remains on his leg. “For someone who swears up and down to not be into it… You really don’t sound so sure about it to me.”

“Well, I am,” he protests in a heartbeat, however the bite that’s supposed to be in the statement isn’t quite there. 

The reason behind it might be because he’s quite tipsy and can’t bring himself to be firm with you. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because he’s staring at his lap when he says it; right at the spot where you’re still touching him.

Your hand feels so warm as it sits on his thigh. And pleasant. 

He doesn’t exactly… want it to go away.

You watch as he huffs in defeat and shakes his head with evident frustration the thought must have evoked. It causes a giggle to bubble up your throat from how entertained you are. You don’t even try to stop it this time.

He could tell you off, call you names, push you away, whatever… But he doesn’t. 

No, he’s just too good of a big brother.

So you allow the flat of your palms to rest on both of his knees now. Still careful, though not nearly as much as before. Meanwhile, your own knees dig into the softness of the couch as you readjust your weight forward so that you can lift yourself just enough to be eye level with him.

Guilty anticipation pools inside his gut and turns him frazzled when you use the momentum to invade his personal space even further. All of a sudden, you find yourself nose to nose with your cutesy stepbrother. Chest to chest. So close that he can feel the heat of your breath on his lips and smell the fading scent of your perfume mixing with thin layers of sweat and sunscreen. 

“Prove it, then,” you say. Your voice could barely be considered above a whisper but the silence that follows after it is so loud.

Yuuji gulps from how unnerving this entire situation has become. Gulps. “Prove… Prove what?”

“Prove that you’re not into it.”

Thump, thump, thump! His heart is going wild. “How?”

“Watch it with me.” You move your hands upwards ever so slightly as you speak the words, but it’s not long before you’re sliding them all the way up to his thighs. 

They’re strong, his legs, and the muscles in them flex and harden underneath your touch, making the lines of his gorgeous, so profoundly male-like physique all the more defined. The hairs there are lighter in colour and they’re silky smooth. They tickle the tips of your fingers when you finally let them settle at the very edge of his gym shorts. 

Digging your nails into his skin just enough to make him jump a little, you add, “Please?”

God, you’re so drunk and… something else. Your pupils are huge; so big that Yuuji swears he can see himself in them, and the laugh you let out a moment later is girlish and kind of breathless. 

And he, well, he just looks so goddamn confused in response to it. Like a little puppy that’s been caught doing something naughty and bad. Big, round eyes, twitchy upper lip and everything.

“I, umm… I dunno,” he chokes out finally. He feels like coughing so that he can clear his throat, but he somehow manages to stifle the annoying sensation. “I just… I’m not so sure about that-”

“Pleeease, Yuuji,” you repeat, pushing, pushing, pushing. You even start pouting right at him as a means to get him to budge. “I wanna!”

Fuck.

The whine that’s appeared in your voice now makes his cock involuntarily twitch. What the actual fuck, his dick is responding to you – his baby sister. Little by little, blood is rushing south; right below his waistline until he can feel warmth slowly taking over every inch of his lower half. He tries to make it stop, to put an end to it, to slow it down at the very least, but his efforts prove to be completely useless.

His throat feels scratchy and dry now from not allowing himself to cough, and his skin feels too tight on his face. It makes him rasp as he says, “You, uh, you wanna?”

“Mhmm,” you purr in a mere instant, squeezing his thighs again just the tiniest bit. Goddammit, since when did those parts start feeling so fucking sensitive? “Wanna… wanna see you start sweating a little when you realize that your dick is getting hard over dirty shit like stepcest, you know? Wanna prove you wrong.”

A second twitch, a second rush of blood. Yuuji’s stomach spins and tightens with anxiety. His nerves go haywire. With each passing second, he can feel his cock getting heavier in his shorts. Can feel pre-cum turning the front of his underwear more and more sticky. Can feel his mind going dizzy with quick-paced lust.

You’re just so goddamn close. Staring right at him, with your tits almost on full display in that tiny thing you call a shirt, and with that infuriating, shit-eating smirk plastered on your lips. Kneeling right between his legs, talking about stepbrothers fucking stepsisters, allowing your breaths to intermingle as if it’s no big deal.

But that’s not all. Besides being too close for comfort, he’s also pretty sure that you’re quietly hinting at the possibility of something happening tonight, like letting him stuff your pussy with his cock. Hell, forget stuffing – even just seeing it would be nice. 

Not that he’s ever thought about laying eyes on his sister’s cunt, much less filling it, but now that this entire thing is unfolding in real time, before his very eyes, and he swears that he can feel the tips of your fingers subtly brushing against the ridge of his hard-on over his clothes… He doesn’t feel like refusing the idea necessarily, if it were to actually happen.

Fuuuck!

“It-it won’t,” Yuuji stammers in one last attempt at keeping his sense of morality, however all he does is end up fumbling over his own damn self like some pathetic loser. He’s so red in the face, it’s obvious now. “I, ah, I already told you-”

His sentence gets interrupted by a sudden kiss that you press right onto his still half-open mouth. 

You don’t know what exactly it is that compels you to do it, but here you are. Kissing your big brother. Latching yourself to him. Offering him things you shouldn’t.

Oh, here you are, all right.

The kiss itself is clumsy, rash, idiotic. Your teeth clash as you hurry forward to wrap your arms around his neck, and there’s a small, muffled noise – that terribly sounds like a squeal of excitement – escaping your lips when his big hands find your waist and he yanks you forward until you’re fully seated on his lap.

One second ago you were merely looking at each other, tip-toeing the line but never quite overstepping it, and now you’re grinding against one another like animals in heat, tangling tongues and tasting each other’s spit. Everything happens so fast and it’s all based on pure instinct and executed with zero thinking, because if it happened any other way, you’d surely regret it.

He tastes like pineapple and the lousy chewing gum that he bought back at the corner store earlier in the afternoon but spat out pretty soon after. You shouldn’t find the odd combination of flavours that good, you know this, but right now the inside of his mouth tastes like sweet, sweet heaven.

And possible release.

“Fuck, Yuu,” you pant between messy kisses, running your fingers along his undercut. “You’re so hard, look… Proves me right, mm?”

Yuuji wants to tell you to shut up, to stop saying things like that, to stop making him feel both so guilty and turned on at the same time because it’s complicated and he doesn’t fucking know what to make of it.

But all he ends up saying instead is, “Yeah...”

Because, as always, he’s simply too good of a big brother. Too good to tell you no.

Especially when you’re right.

And even if your big brother’s cock is hiding underneath several layers of clothing, you can still feel it pressing firmly between your legs now. Thick and heavy and in urgent need of some tender affection; a little sisterly love, if you will. It’s making you grow more and more expectant of what’s to come. There’s no space for shame left.

His size seems promising – at least judging by the feel of it. Each time you push your weight against him, circling your hips a little, he responds by pushing you down even further with the help of his hands on your hips; spreading your folds slightly apart and allowing the seam of your shorts to dig straight into your clit.

Your breathing grows laboured because of it. Slowly but surely, you’re becoming a hot mess of mm’s and ahh’s. And Yuuji, poor, sweet Yuuji, is nowhere near to being any better after he’s forced to hear all of it.

He’s sweating like crazy. Is throbbing between his legs. Is trying to tame his pulse but it just keeps on hammering and ringing inside his ears. The blush is making his entire face itch all over again and his clothes feel too tight on his body. What else is there?

Oh, even his heart feels like it’s jammed itself inside his throat when he pulls back just enough to break the string of saliva that’s bridging the narrow space between your mouths and asks, “You sure you wanna do this?”

“Just fuck me already, god,” you hiss in response. You’re so sexually frustrated that it’s making you pissy.

Neither of you has planned this nor expected this to happen, but you’ve both been feeling lonely, terribly single; are yearning to be touched. It’s been a while for the two of you, shit happens and people get too busy to enjoy the simpler pleasures in life, and you both consider the other to be attractive, so… why not?

Why not? Maybe because this entire thing could, quite possibly, be a disaster in the making.

Still, it doesn’t feel like a disaster when Yuuji’s hands wrap around your sides and slam you down on the couch. Doesn’t feel like a bad thing when he blindly hooks his fingers to the waistband of your shorts and you bring your legs closer to your chest and lift your hips a little so that he can tug them off easier.

Either he’s too impatient to wait or he did it by complete accident, but he manages to pull down your panties right along with your shorts. They’re both left dangling from your left ankle now, hanging uselessly and completely forgotten because he’s too busy trying to push himself inside you.

His back is hunched and his rosy lips are parted as he sucks in and exhales sharp breaths above you. They fan your forehead, cooling the sweat that’s gathered there, only causing you to shiver. 

You press your foreheads together when you lift yourself slightly with the help of your elbows so that you can reach between you, tug his waistband low just enough to expose him and guide him inside you. He grits his teeth, baring them like a threatened animal as soon as your fingers curl around the base of his cock, mindlessly stroking the impressive length, spreading the pre-cum that’s gathered at the tip without any sense of patience.

Neither of you looks into each other’s eyes; all of your attention is aimed at the spot where you almost connect. After all, his fat cockhead is bumping against your sticky pussy now, inconsistently gliding up and down and smearing arousal. Every time he teases your entrance, your breath hitches in the back of your throat and you cling onto him a little harder.

“Yuujiii,” you whine, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so harshly that you fear you might have drawn blood. He almost doesn’t recognize the sound of your voice. “What’re you waiting for?! Put it iiin!”

“Yeah… Y-yeah, okay,” he bites out, trying to stop the persistent flutter of a muscle in his cheek. His arms feel like giving in but the muscles in his biceps still flex and shudder with anxiety and anticipation when he finally presses in.

His cockhead pushes past the initial ring of muscle pretty effortlessly from how wet you’ve gotten from mere kissing and a little bit of grinding. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s making you so pliant and eager, but it’s easy to open your legs wider so that you can let in even more of him.

Yuuji feels dizzy; like the entire world is spinning. You’re underneath him, panting so loudly and you’re so warm inside, so accepting, so wet. Your pussy hugs him just right, walls squeezing around his girth, sucking him in further. The sensation makes him drop his entire weight right on top of your writhing body the second he allows himself to slowly rock into you and sink balls deep.

He hides his face into the crook of your neck as he begins to lazily thrust inside you, doing whatever feels best because he can’t possibly bring himself to form thoughts right now. In and out, the strokes are long, slow and deep. So deep, in fact, that they make you wince each time he hits the sweet spot that’s hiding inside.

You’ve ended up so close yet again; with your limbs intertwined and your bodies pressed tightly together that your shirt is crinkling between you. It rides up with the movement of his hips slamming against your own, exposing your stomach, making you stick to each other from how sweaty you’ve gotten.

“Nngh… You feel… s’good,” he grits out, quiet moaning already lacing his voice. His breathing has gotten so heavy that it’s creating moisture on the small patch of skin on your neck that he’s got his mouth pressed against. “Won’t last long… Ca-ah… Can’t.”

He sounds so fucking drunk as he continues to say pure nonsense into the side of your throat and keeps on pressing you into the softness of the couch. Not only on alcohol, but also on your pussy it seems. 

It makes him practically start pounding into you now. Abusing your tight little hole. He slips one arm underneath you and pulls you even closer so that he can steady himself a little bit, and wetness squelches between you as a result. Skin slaps against skin, breaths intermingle. His fingers tangle into your hair crudely – it hurts when he tugs at the roots even if you’re well aware that he doesn’t mean to.

He’s so big above you. So strong. So stupidly male. And he’s also gotten lost in the moment. For a second it makes you scared of him a little bit even if he’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a real proper marshmallow. And it doesn’t help that his cock is as big as the rest of him is; stretching you so deliciously, splitting you wide open, causing tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes even if the booze that’s coursing your veins is supposed to numb you out to a size like that.

“Yuuji, wa- fuck, wait…!” You cross your ankles at his waist in an attempt to slow him down, heels panically digging into his back dimples and toes curling. 

“N-no, I can’t, please… Don’t make me wait, please, please, please, c’mon,” he babbles, still not slowing down, not stopping. His eyes are half-closed and they show concern, but they’re also dark and foggy when he lifts his head just enough to look at you. “Just a lil’ more, yeah…? Yeah? Just a lil’... Ugh, keep still just a bit longer- I’m almost there. So… mmh… close.”

You try to fight against him, tugging on his hair and sinking your nails into his back, but all he does is endure it, not really caring much about your thrashing and turning. He’s got you caged underneath him, crying out his name, clawing raw red lines into his broad back. It’s all drunken breeding instinct and no brain as he uses your body like a toy, and the realization that you can do nothing but take it is terrifying as much as it is thrilling.

His pounding has turned borderline ruthless by now and in his urgency to cum, he’s pushed himself so deep inside you that you’re pretty sure he’s fucked his way straight into your goddamn womb. In his weak attempt to make you last until the end, he’s even started to messily rub irregular circles into your clit.

It makes a thin line of drool dribble down the corner of your mouth from how fucked out you’ve become in a mere fifteen minutes. The overstimulation is probably completely accidental, but it achieves the same result just the same. He outright forces the climax out of your body, and the second he feels you squeeze around him, abused pussy trying to milk him dry, he’s giving in, not resisting anymore, shooting his load inside you in an instant.

The groan he lets out is almost like a growl. He arches his back again, balls tightening, grip almost turning iron-like. You can feel the warmth of his cum as it fills you in steady waves of pleasure. 

You both stay still for a long while after that, trying to gather your senses, attempting to calm down your trembling. His cum is warm and sticky; tacky between your thighs. It starts to drip out of your hole by the time his cock softens enough to create more space. 

There’s just so much of it. A fuckload.

And he’s still breathing so hard. You both are.

“I’m so sorry… Fuck, I-” he rasps out. His mouth is so dry that he feels like he could chug an entire jug of water, but he pushes that need away for now in order to get a good look at you instead. “I just- I-”

Yuuji stops mid-sentence when he sees you push two of your fingers between your legs before bringing them up in front of your face again. He watches, eyelids heavy, as you spread them then, toying with the glimmery, cloudy white substance that’s gathered there until you gently push them inside your mouth, licking his release right off of your fingertips.

His jaw almost hits the floor. He’s so baffled by what he’s just seen that he barely registers the fact that his cock is trying to get hard again, throbbing against his thigh.

“What?” is all you say in response to the incredulous look that sits on his face now. Your voice is muffled from the way you keep your mouth stuffed full.

“I licked it so it’s mine.”

[reignpage]

Don't Be Mad At Me

Smau: in which you're hoping the jjk men are forgiving :) warning: sexual innuendo (nothing serious), cursing, crack, fluff Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Nanami, Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki

[onismdaydream]

puppyboy yuji thoughts because im unwell

would love to just . sniff your cunt omg. like pressing his whole face between your legs because you smell so good. licks and laps at your crotch and whines when you pull him away

he is soo animated all the time, never able to hide his emotions.

hes a fairly young pup so he might be a little too excited when you give him attention, even if its just normal. like constantly jumping on you (he doesnt know his own strength) and kissing and licking you

when he gets in his rut .... omg its so bad. neediness cranked up 1000%. steals anything that smells like you and puts it in his mouth or around his cock. doesn't even know why, he can't comprehend its because he wants to stuff you full, just knows that you smell good

presses you into the bed or couch or whatever. he needs to be on top of you and humping his leaky cock against your body. nuzzles at your neck and whines and cries because he doesn't know why his cock won't stop aching

[wenumsmol]

𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 (𝕐𝕦𝕛𝕚) 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Overall Content Advisory: Fem Reader, Eventual Smut, Eventual Dark Content, Sukuna/Yuji Hybrid, Exterminator Sukuna (by day)/Rocker Ryo (by night), Reader Has Trauma, Mentions Of Being Abused (Reader), Graphic Everything (If you can't stomach content covering abuse, stalking and sexual assault this isn't a fic you want to read. I'm going all in), Bartender Reader, Reader has a kitty and a cat (lol). ~ I might have missed something but I'm sure I covered the triggering stuff. ~ WC: 4.1k words. Chapter Specific Content Advisory: Limerence, Male Masturbation, First person perspective. ~ A/N: The chapter titles sometimes have links to songs of the same name. If you want to listen while you read, it's an option. This one has two songs that both fit the vibe in different ways. ~ Minors do not interact with my works. Ageless blogs and underaged blogs will be blocked.

ᴛʜʀᴏᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ

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ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 2: ℌ𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔑𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢//𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔗𝔬 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥.

𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 ℙ𝕆𝕍

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗, 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎—𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚔𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖. 𝙶𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙾𝚕𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚙𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙰𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍, 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝙼𝚢 𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝. 𝙰 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚝-𝚜𝚘-𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎.

𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚘𝚐 𝚙𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛. 𝙿𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚡𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝 𝙸’𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙳𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝, 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. “𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚜.”

“𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚜? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝—”

“𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍. 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚐,” 𝙸 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚡 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. “𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄.𝚂. 𝚘𝚏 𝙰. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍?”

𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝. 𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝. 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐….

𝙰𝚜 𝙸 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚕𝚔, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑. 𝙸𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝙻/𝚗, 𝚈/𝚗, 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗’. 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗’ 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍.

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙿𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑. 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗’ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍.

𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜? 𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙽𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗’ 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑, 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍.

𝙸 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕, 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢. 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚛? 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢—𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚙. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸’𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎.

𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝟿𝚝𝚑. 𝚆𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 ��𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚍. 𝙾𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚙𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔.

𝙱𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝟸𝟶, 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔-𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜. 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚜. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠.

𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗’ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚞𝚙. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚝. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚘'𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚢𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 ��𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍. 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝? 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝.

𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙼𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝙸 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜.

𝙸𝚏 𝙸'𝚍 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍, 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 - 𝚈/𝚗. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 - 𝚗𝚘. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚋. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕.

“𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑, 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚛𝚢, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕. 𝙰𝚍𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖. 𝙶𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢? 𝙱𝚒𝚐 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎.

𝙸𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜? 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍? 𝙽𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘? 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌, 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚖. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎… 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎…

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔, 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢—𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔, 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛, 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕-𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝.

𝙰𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜—𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍? 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗' 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝����𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜, 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗, 𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎? 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚋𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎? 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔—𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍.

𝙸 𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚋 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕.

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕, 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝. 𝙽𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚝, 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢? 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚈/𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍… 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝙸? 𝙿𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝙹𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’–

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘, 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚠 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚍𝚘𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚈/𝚗, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝙰𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙴𝚍𝚎𝚗, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘.

𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢—𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝. 𝙻𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚘𝚗. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚔, 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜.

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗' 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚈/𝚗. 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍? 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙸 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝙸 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙸’𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.

𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘. 𝚂𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎, 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎, 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝. 𝚄𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚎, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍.

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚝, 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝-𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 ‘𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢.’ 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚕. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎, 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗’.

𝙸 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚆𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎? 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢—𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 ‘𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎’, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚏��𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙸’𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸’𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙿𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝. 𝙽𝚘, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝a 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚍 yourself, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎? 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙸 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝚆𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙸 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝—𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚋, 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢—𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐—𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔? 𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚜. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝—𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑, 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛. 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚏𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚣𝚒𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝. 𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚜.

𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚕 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝙰 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚙, 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛. 𝙸 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚏𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚜, 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍.

𝙸 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎… 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘�� 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜, 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝙾𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝙸’𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍-𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚏𝚝, 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛’𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜? 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍? 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚎.

𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗' 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. ��𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜, 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘? 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎.

𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚌𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚠𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙. 𝙸 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚞𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚜? 𝚃𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔? 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝚂𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞—𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝙲𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔, 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎.

𝙼𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚏𝚝, 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚖, 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚢𝚎𝚝. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚖 𝚢𝚎𝚝, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢–𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚙, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚜. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎–𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔. 𝙼𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚢.

“𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚑𝚞𝚑 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢?” 𝙸 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢. 𝙸𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸’𝚖 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎.

“𝙰𝚑… 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝,” 𝙸 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. 𝙼𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 ‘𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢, 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚍,’ 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎.

“𝚂𝚑-𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.” 𝙼𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍, 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎–𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝–𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚝.

𝙸𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚜, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗. “𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔.” 𝙸 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗.. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙷𝚊𝚊… 𝙸 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕.

‘𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢.’ “𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢.” ‘𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢.’ “𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢,” 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍.

𝙼𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚙, 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 – 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚞𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚜. 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚡 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑, 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎. 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝟷𝟻 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝, 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚙. 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗. “𝚃𝚜𝚔, 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.”

𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗-𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗-𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗…𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙰 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏… 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍, 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚗𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 ��𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚈/𝚗. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎.

𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: here~

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𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @yuujispinkhair, @skunabby, @kickenkricken

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[loves4ge]

asking to put makeup on them !

incl. yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, toji fushiguro, inumaki toge

guys i wanted to add nanami sooo bad but literally had a brainfart, i couldn't think of anything

[samaraxmorgan]

Crack JJK headcanons but it’s all early 2000s uncle Sukuna:

The spiritual successor to Crack JJK headcanons based on nothing but vibes. Send me your own silly headcanons I would absolutely love to read them!!

2003-2007

He desperately tried to make Yuuji’s first word be “fuck.”

He got so sick and tired of having to watch the same Barney VHS tape while babysitting that he ripped the film out and blamed it on toddler Yuuji.

Yuuji always begs him to draw his tattoos on him every time he babysits.

One time toddler Yuuji broke Sukuna’s flip phone in half. Sukuna was too impressed to be mad at him for it.

2008-2013

He brought five year old Yuuji to a Slipknot concert and had him up on his shoulders with big noise cancelling headphones on… and also “forgot” to ask Jin permission to bring him beforehand.

He tried to do a trick on Yuuji’s razor scooter and accidentally broke it.

He took Yuuji with him to Warped Tour.

He got really embarrassed when Jin showed Yuuji his high school yearbook photos of him with a mohawk.

He has a leather jacket with pins and patches all over it and Yuuji LOVES wearing it when he comes over.

2014-2017

He cut Yuuji’s hair when he got into middle school and told Jin “I’ll be damned if my nephew has a bowl cut.”

When Yuuji got into a fight at school he asked him “did you win?” When Yuuji said yes he took him to get ice cream.

He had a white iPhone and dropped it, cracking the glass on the back; Yuuji colored in the cracks with neon pink sharpie.

The first time Yuuji snuck out Sukuna chewed him out when he got back home, telling him “I don’t care if you sneak off, but you fucking tell me next time.”

Whenever Yuuji gets in trouble at school, Sukuna is always the one to pick him up because the principal is afraid of him.

[daemontargaryenwhore]

Tell your baby that I'm your baby

I BET ON LOSING DOGS

I KNOW THEY'RE LOSING AND I'LL PAY FOR MY PLACE BY THE RING

[niki-phoria]

⋆｡°✩ YOU LOOK SO PRETTY / PRETTY LIKE THE SUN

sweet moments with fushiguro megumi, itadori yuuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuuta

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), first jjk reaction post !! this was so hard to write ngl, header from pinterest, title from tom odell - black friday

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is in love with you.

dusk is filled with golden rays and city lights. you walk side-by-side with megumi in a comfortable silence. these quiet moments with you had always been rare but cherished moments - a small amount of time when you both could finally breathe. 

years of fighting curses had taken its toll on you. with death always just one wrong move away, megumi had grown accustomed to cherishing the little moments with you: when you made him coffee in the morning before he woke up; when you waited at his bedside after he was injured in a fight; when you forcefully put some of your food on his plate after noticing that he wasn’t eating enough.

megumi had never grown up with a view of a real romantic relationship - all of his experience came from side plots in manga and being dragged into watching movies with yuuji - but he was smart enough to realize why his heart beat so fast around you. why he blushed so easily when your hand brushed against his. why he desperately wanted more.

megumi stops when you pause in your steps, stretching out your shoulders. a content sigh escapes you as you look out towards the shore. “the sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” you say, your eyes trained on the hues of pink and blue filling the sky. 

megumi glances at the skyline, only taking in the sight momentarily before he turns back to you. all the beautiful things he’s heard about “golden hour” seem to come true. the sun peeks out from behind various buildings, illuminating your silhouette. you softly smile as you look up at the clouds above.

“yeah,” he smiles; his gaze remains trained on you. “beautiful.”

fushiguro megumi is in love with you. now, he just has to tell you.

ITADORI YUUJI is - surprisingly - not a bad cook. over his months at jujutsu high, he had become the unofficial chef in the dorms. so when you fell ill, it was no surprise when he took on the responsibility of nursing you back to health.

your body is little more than a mound of blankets when yuuji creeps into your room; a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. he moves with the utmost care as he makes his way across the room before setting the bowl down on your bedside table. despite your puffy eyes and red-tipped nose he smiles, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair away from your face.

you stir awake at his touch before slowly blinking up at him. “hi y/n,” yuuji whispers. “feeling any better?”

he receives a groan in response. “i feel like death,” you rasp out. 

yuuji reaches over, resting the back of his hand against your forehead. “you’re still really warm,” he mumbles. “i don’t think your fever has gone down at all.”

his cheeks flush slightly when you reach over, taking his hand into your own. your skin is overly warm and slightly clammy, but yuuji doesn’t mind. instead, he intertwines your hands together. 

“here,” he says, using his free hand to hold up a spoonful of the soup he made. “try it. maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

the metal spoon burns your tongue and the broth is a little too salty, but it soothes your throat all the same. “thank you,” you murmur. “it’s delicious.”

yuuji simply smiles brightly, holding out yet another spoonful for you. “of course.”

“do you know japanese sign language?”

INUMAKI TOGE stares at you with wide eyes, surprised by your sudden question. it shouldn’t have been all that surprising, but it was something no one had bothered to ask before. 

finally, after a short period of silence, he nods. “salmon.”

toge had grown accustomed to being left out. even while around the most supportive people, he often found himself struggling to be heard - both literally and metaphorically. after all, it was difficult to communicate with others through origini ingredients. 

that didn’t make it any less hurtful, though. 

you smile brightly, hesitantly signing along to your words as you speak. “i’ve been practicing a little. i wanted to surprise you.”

toge’s face flushes; his jacket does little to hide the way his blush spreads across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. your movements are a little sloppy and you’re clearly nervous, but he doesn’t comment on it. no one had ever put in this much effort to speak to him before. to not only listen, but understand what he means. 

“thank you,” he signs in return. he pauses for a second, hesitating slightly before he continues. “i love you.”

“i don’t think i know that one.” toge simply smiles, leaning in to pull you into a kiss. he’ll tell you what it means soon enough. but for now, his flushed cheeks and soft smile tell you everything he means to say.

the safest place in the world is within OKKOTSU YUUTA’S arms. you can’t remember when it became a routine for the two of you. he would return home and immediately seek you out; his fingers curl around your waist and tug you closer until your back reaches his chest. 

a soft sigh escapes his lips as he rests his chin against your shoulder. the pieces of your bodies fit together like a puzzle - from the way yuuta intertwines his fingers with your own to how seamlessly his arms wrap around you. 

messy strands of ink black hair brush against the side of your neck when yuuta nuzzles himself even closer against you. his breath ghosts against your shoulder as he leans down, pressing a few lazy kisses over the fabric of your shirt. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too.” your fingertips trace along little cuts and deep bruises decorating yuuta’s hands. “do they hurt?”

he catches his bottom lip between his teeth. it feels trivial to be in pain over such minor injuries, but yuuta has never been the best liar. “only a little,” he murmurs.

you frown slightly, raising your intertwined hands up to your lips. the soft kisses you press against the fresh wounds leave him breathless. with a flushed face and a soft smile, yuuta presses a chaste kiss against your cheek in return. “thank you.”

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[sqtorux]

jealousy, jealousy

just you being a little jealous over girls fawning over your too good to be true boyfriend .ᐟ

includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, yuji, megumi, yuta and toge.

» requested!

lowkey got carried away making this lmaoo

[basicallyjeankirschtein]

Left On Read - Yuta x Reader SMAU

chap 5: crash out masterlist

you didn’t want to forgive toge, considering how he called you a hoe and all. but, you’re open to the aspect of meeting his friend panda. you also appreciated his apology, much better than yujis, who’s supposed to be your best friend.

after sending the last text, yuta turned his phone on do not disturb and got smile ready for you.

“it’s a bit scary, but don’t worry, i’m here for you.” he said with a genuine smile.

for once in your life, you didn’t feel like the second choice.

-

hai guys! i’m glad everyone is in agreement that they do NOT deserve forgiveness 😭 watching you guys tweak out in the comments is the funniest thing ever DO IT MORE I HATE THEM ALL!

also guys would it be whorish of me to make multiple guys have one sided crushes on yn.. main love interest will be yuta my glorious king but i think it’d be funny for everyone to switch up after her immaculate glow up from moving on to a dif friend group 🤤🤤

@shokosbunny @kalulakunundrum @tenthmilo @maddietries @genxnarumi @reiluvr @love-me-satoru @crystal-freak24 @gigiiiiislife @juujujs @heartz4nanami @justmare @noomimi @thirtykiwis @luvsymai @walllflowerrrsss