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A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy	By : AnasellaEmm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 75943 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related characters, places and themes belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Scholastic.
A/N: Thank you again for all the reviews! And a big, big thank you for everyone who voted at The New Library Awards! This story won Best D/Hr Romance and was runner-up for best D/Hr Work in Progress. :) Thank you so, so, so very much! The chapter title comes from the song, “Everything’s Not Lost” by Coldplay.
Chapter 21: When You Thought that It Was Over
Hermione tapped her fingers against the armrest of the couch, trying not to let her tears start again. The last thing she needed was to wallow in a brutal depression again. She looked at the clock hanging over the mantle and noted the time. It was almost midnight, and she had no idea where Draco was. The crushing blow of losing Zane had started to wane and was now being replaced with worry for Draco’s whereabouts.
Just as she was about to floo Narcissa to check if he had shown up at the manor, she heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. She stayed on the couch, a slight anger burning through her as the worry receded.
Draco came into view a few seconds later and took the empty seat next to her, dropping onto the seat with the finesse of a person who had given up.
They sat in silence for a few moments, neither one daring to break it. There really was nothing to say. Where would they start? A simple hello would gain a confused look from the other and a sigh would probably start an unnecessary conversation.
“Do you remember when we used to hate each other?” he suddenly asked.
Hermione slowly turned her head to look at him, hoping he hadn’t gone crazy on her from the grief of losing his son that day. “Yes, I remember.”
“Seems so trivial now, doesn’t it?”
“A lot of things seem trivial now,” she replied.
“I used to hate how you were so sure of yourself, as if you knew everything there was to know about everything. Drove me crazy,” he said.
“I’m not like that anymore?”
“No, you’re still like that. I’ve just learned to live with it.”
“Well, I used to hate how you talked down to people. You never outgrew that tendency; you still do it. You tend to use a condescending tone with people you don’t know and even sometimes with the people you do know. I hated nothing worse than when you would talk condescendingly to me.”
“So you’ve learned to live with that?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ve learned to live with it.”
“I hated how bossy you were.”
“I hated how apathetic you were,” she replied.
“I hated how you used to think you were better than me when you’d ignore my taunts,” he told her.
“I hated how you used to think you were better than me period.”
“I hated myself for wanting to be like you,” he said.
She stopped for a moment, letting his words sink in. She didn’t say anything, so he decided to keep going.
“I hated you for having real friends and for doing better than me in school,” he said slowly.
“I hated you for being socially accepted and so self-confident,” she said.
“I don’t hate you anymore,” he said on a whisper.
“I know,” she said. Her eyes had filled with tears at some point for some reason that was beyond her. “I don’t hate you either.”
“I still don’t like you,” he assured her. “I love you, but I don’t like you.”
“I don’t like you either,” she said as a teardrop fell down her cheek.
“But do you love me?” he asked in a hoarse voice, his hand searching hers in the dark. “You don’t have to like me, Hermione, but do you love me?”
“Yes,” she said as another renegade teardrop caressed her opposite cheek.
She gasped when his hands found her face and dragged her to his lips, kissing her as if he needed to make sure she was there, to make sure she was real and tangible and all his. His tongue sought out her own, caressing it with the tenderness his words had failed to evoke.
She tasted him, tasted her tears, and brought him closer to her.
They weren’t celebrating their confessions of love. They were filling the void that the grief had left behind.
Draco pulled back first, resting his forehead against hers, taking deep gulps of breath in tempo with her. “Don’t ever leave me,” he whispered against her mouth, their hot breaths mingling. “I can never lose you. Please, Hermione. Promise me you’ll never leave.”
“I won’t,” she told him. “I won’t leave you. You have to promise, too.”
“I will never,” he kissed her, “ever,” another kiss, “ever,” and another, “leave you.”
“I still don’t like you,” she said with a smile against his lips. They both knew what she meant.
“I know. I still don’t like you either,” he said with a small, husky laugh.
He kissed her again, leaving her breathless once more. He brought her into his lap, her thighs straddling his as he laved her mouth with his sweet kisses. Their actions turned frantic, their hands touching every possible place on their bodies.
Hermione pulled away for a moment to catch her breath and the stark emotion she saw in Draco’s eyes made her stop completely.
“They took him away from me,” he said tonelessly, out-of-the-blue, his chest moving quickly as he caught his own breath. “They took my boy away.”
“Oh, Draco,” she exhaled, cupping his face in her hands. She kissed him and pressed her cheek to his.
“Help me stop thinking about it,” he begged her. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”
“How can I?” she asked helplessly.
“Just… just…” he struggled for the words and then grabbed her face again to kiss her.
This time, their kiss didn’t end. It progressed until their clothes were flung to the floor in haste, until Hermione felt herself lowered to the couch and Draco’s hard, strong body cover hers. His lips blazed paths all over her torso, down her legs, between her legs…
She cried out his name, urging him to go harder, to go faster, to love her with his body. Her body trembled when he finally entered her, her skin slick with sweat to match his.
She raised her legs and wrapped them around him, needing to feel closer to him in any way she could. His lips never left her face and neck, whispering lascivious words to her as they met each other’s thrusts.
In a shatter of stars, lights, and sounds, they reached a completion that put every other climax to shame.
Draco collapsed on her, unable to move away with her legs still wrapped around him. His upper body quavered with the intensity of his deep breaths, his face buried in her neck.
Hermione wasn’t sure how she noticed it, but she somehow knew that the wetness she felt on her neck was not from the sweat on his face… her own tears fell then, as she hugged him closer, letting him cry for the loss of their son, his upper body not quavering with the intensity of his breaths, but with the desperation of his sobs.
The flames in the hearth glowed a bright green, something Zane had never seen occur in his new room. There was a screen in front of the flames, because Pansy didn’t want him getting too close to the fire.
He never paid the fireplace much attention, but now that the flames were green, he recognized the signs of the floo.
He sat at his place on the humongous bed in his room. Posey the dinosaur sat at his right, and an assortment of many toys lay around him as he sat having a very important meeting with them. He seemed to have a lot of meetings with his toys. There wasn’t much to do in the big house he lived in now. He mostly stayed in his room talking to his toys and trying to get the house-elves to play with him. They never did. Lunch and breakfast were served in his room and he ate by himself, with only Posey the dinosaur and some other toy as company. He saw Pansy and that other man only at dinner.
Every dinnertime, Zane always asked when he would be able to go back home. He ignored them when they explained that he was currently in his new home. It was too ridiculous of a notion for him to entertain.
His eyes widening in curiosity, he dragged Posey closer to him as two heads popped up in the green fire. He knew those two heads! It was Unca Fred and Unca George! Right as he was about to scream their names, they put their fingers to their mouths to tell him to stay quiet. He nodded silently and watched their heads talking quietly to each other.
“Hey, Zane,” Fred whispered. “Can you move this screen without getting hurt?”
Zane scrambled off the bed and walked to the fireplace. He pushed the screen to one side and moved so that the two men could climb out of the fireplace and into the room.
As they dusted themselves off, Zane threw his arms around their legs and hugged them tight. “You came to see me!”
George knelt down and hugged the kid, rubbing the dust out of his hair and off of Zane’s shirt. “You missed us, then?”
Zane nodded with a wide smile. “Did you bring my mummy and daddy?”
George exchanged a sad smile with Fred and turned back to Zane. “Sorry, mate. They couldn’t come.”
“Why not?” Zane asked. “Don’t they want to see me?”
“Of course they do,” Fred assured him. “That cow downstairs won’t let them come though.”
“There’s a cow in the house?” Zane asked with a giggle.
“He means Pansy,” George explained. “Pansy won’t let your mummy and daddy come visit.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a bi--” Fred started to say before George interrupted.
“Because she doesn’t want them to take you away from her. She’s a very selfish and mean person,” George said. “We’ve come to do our part in helping you drive her crazy.”
“Are you going to stay with me? I’m very bored all the time and nobody talks to me,” Zane said sadly. “I miss my mummy and my daddy and Gamma and Gampa and everybody.”
“We won’t be able to stay because Pansy would get very angry,” George said quietly. “We’re going to give you a few things, and you’re going to help us pull a few jokes on her. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Zane thought this over and then nodded his head. “Yes. I want to have fun.”
“We’ll come and check on you every night. When is your bedtime?” Fred asked.
“I don’t have one,” Zane said. “When dinner is done, I come to my room to play with my toys, and then I get sleepy and fall asleep. Pansy and that man tell me goodnight after dinner. I don’t even get a bedtime story!”
“How about if we come by and read you a bedtime story before you go to sleep and bring you something to use on Pansy and that man.”
“You’re gonna come every day? Will you bring my mummy or daddy or Wolf? How about Gamma and Gampa?”
“Well, they’re not allowed in this house, but we can bring anyone who isn’t in your family.”
“I just wanna go home,” Zane said. “But Pansy won’t let me.”
“Your mum and dad are trying as hard as they can to get you back, mate. You just have to be good boy and torture Pansy just like we tell you to, and everything will turn out wonderfully.”
“Okay. What do I have to do?”
Fred and George grinned at each other and then knelt down to eye-level with Zane, pulling the first of many things out of their duffel bag.
Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,
I am writing this in the hopes that you will keep everything I tell you in absolute secrecy. Once you read this letter, I would appreciate that it be completely destroyed and never mentioned again. I am not writing this as a Domestic Ministry Professional, but as a person who knows when an injustice has occurred. Meet me at the Blue Beau Pub tonight at eleven. No one must know of our meeting. I apologize for what has transpired, and I only hope I can help.
RW

Hermione made her way down the hall to the master bedroom, clutching the note tightly in her hand. She called Draco’s name, but heard his reply come from Zane’s room instead.
Perched on the edge of his son’s bed, Draco sat with Rosie the dinosaur held between his hands, his elbows resting on his knees and his head bowed. He looked utterly pathetic and she just wanted to hold him until they looked like two pathetic souls together. It had been two days since Zane had been taken away… two days since they had confessed their love.
“Yeah?” he asked, not bothering to look up.
“This was just delivered,” she said, walking to him and handing him the note.
He unfurled the piece of parchment, and his eyes quickly swept across the words. He looked up at her when he was through, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “RW? Rhonda sent this?”
She shrugged. “It seems so. The only other RW I can think of is Ron and the last time I checked, he wasn’t a DMP. Do you think this is a trick?”
He shook his head slowly. “I want to believe she’s telling the truth, and I want to believe that she can help us. What do you think is the worst thing that could happen if this is some sort of ruse?”
“Well, see, I tried thinking about that possibility, but I don’t see any way for us to get in trouble if we did go and meet her.”
“I think we should go” he said. “If worse comes to worst, then we’ll go back to waiting a year.”
Hermione laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist. “We’ll get him back, Draco. Whether it be tomorrow, next week, next month or a year from now, we’ll get him back.”
“Have I told you lately how much I don’t like you?”
She smiled and nudged him with her shoulder. “You might have mentioned it.”
“Well, I really don’t like you,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“I really don’t like you, too,” she laughed back.
“If you ever stop not liking me, I think I’ll go crazy,” he warned her.
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll go crazy,” she said, turning to look at him.
He gave her a confused look.
“I know you’ll go crazy.”
With a quick grab, he had her beneath him, kissing her know-it-all mouth closed.
--
A few minutes before eleven, Draco and Hermione stood outside the Blue Beau Pub, which was located on the opposite side of London. They looked at each other hesitantly before walking into the dark establishment.
They scanned the nearly-empty pub and recognized Rhonda Westin sitting in a booth near the back of the room; her glasses were slightly askew, and she held her hands in front of her, clutching the tankard of drink hard enough to turn her knuckles white.
They approached her and she looked up with a tentative smile, gesturing for them to take a seat at the small, round table.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” she said quietly. “We just have to wait for one more person to show up.”
“Who?” Draco asked suspiciously.
“I invited your Judicial Advocate to join us. I… I know you don’t trust me very much, so I thought if Mr. Zabini were here to help explain things, you would know I wasn’t trying to trick you or anything.”
“It’s very honorable of you to help us, Miss Westin,” Hermione said, smiling at the woman. “You’re risking a lot to help.”
Rhonda’s cheeks brightened and she glanced down at the table with a small smile. “To tell you the truth, Mrs. Malfoy, your family was the first family I was ever assigned to. I became a DMP to help people, and I know you two are good parents to Zane. You have problems just like every other family, and I really didn’t like taking Zane away from the two of you. My conscience has been a ticking time-bomb since that happened.
“Are we going to be doing anything illegal?” Draco asked.
Rhonda shook her head quickly. “Not illegal, but if the Ministry knew I was giving away bureaucratic secrets, they wouldn’t be too happy. I was looking over Mrs. D’Aggostino’s DMP reports and she really shouldn’t be in charge of Zane. She’s his biological mother, yes, but she also has issues with her attitude, financial spending, and lifestyle in general.”
“We could have told you that,” he replied under his breath.
“You knew Pansy was a bad mother and you gave Zane to her anyway?” Hermione asked.
Rhonda sighed. “I couldn’t just go against the regulations put up by the Ministry. We all would have gotten in trouble for that, so instead, I followed the rules, and now I’m going to help you get him back before the separation causes him any extra unnecessary grief.”
“Have you… do you know how he’s doing?” Draco queried.
“Mrs. D’Aggostino sent the Ministry the required notice of arrival this morning and said that Zane is adjusting well to his new home. They went toy shopping for him yesterday, and she said he’s very happy so far.”
“Did her DMP reports mention that she’s a compulsive liar?” Hermione mentioned with a roll of her eyes. “There is no way Zane is happy there. I would bet my school on that.”
Rhonda pushed her glasses until they were straight and took a sip of her drink. She looked up when the door to the pub opened again. “Oh, Mr. Zabini is here.” Her blush deepened and her attention immediately focused on the table.
“Sorry I’m late,” Blaise said as he took the seat across from Draco and Hermione and next to Rhonda. He loosened the tie around his neck with his finger and gestured for the barkeep to bring him a lager. “I’ve been working my bum off this week with that stupid new law intern they assigned to me. Can you imagine getting off of work at nearly midnight?”
“Hello, Blaise. Good to see you, too,” Draco told his friend.
Blaise gave them a bright grin and leaned back against the booth. “Hello there, Miss Westin. Destroyed any other families lately?”
Hermione caught the crushed look on Rhonda’s face and quickly came to her defense. “Actually, Blaise, Rhonda is going to help us get Zane back. She just finished telling us how bad she feels for what has happened.”
Blaise’s eyebrows rose considerably as he turned to look at the DMP. “Well, well, I’m sorry for my comment, Miss Westin, please accept my apologies. I can be such a boor sometimes.”
Rhonda smiled slightly and kept staring at the table, her cheeks turning up another hue of red. “It’s quite alright, Mr. Zabini. I guess I deserved it in a way. My job isn’t the most popular one out there, but I do try.”
Hermione prodded Draco under the table when Blaise smiled at Rhonda. The DMP’s eyes widened and then fell back down to the table, a small smile crawling onto her lips. Draco rolled his eyes at his wife and warned her wordlessly to not even think about playing matchmaker.
“I guess we can get started,” Rhonda said. “Now, I’ve called you here today to explain the process of Appellate Analysis.”
“Appellate Analysis?” Blaise interrupted. “Isn’t that only for restraining orders?”
“What is it?” Hermione asked.
“Actually, Appellate Analysis can be used for any area of the law. That’s something a lot of people don’t understand,” Rhonda explained. “If we use it for Mr. Malfoy’s case, don’t you think they’ll be approved?”
Blaise thought about this for a moment, running his forefinger and thumb down his goatee. “I never even considered that option. I was certain it was only used for restraining orders. But, damn, that is a brilliant idea.”
Draco rolled his eyes again when Rhonda beamed. “Could you two please explain to us normal humans what on earth you’re talking about?”
“How would you like to have Zane back home by next month?” Blaise asked. “Maybe even sooner than that.”
Draco and Hermione stayed silent, waiting for Blaise to continue.
Rhonda continued instead. “Appellate Analysis is a process of appealing to the Ministry to reverse a court-order. Now, we told you that according to the child-protection laws, you would have to wait a year to appeal for at least joint-custody of Zane. If you go through the Appellate Analysis, you’ll only have to wait until the Wizengamot approves the appeal to get him back.”
“How does it work?”
“Okay, well, first off, you’d have to fill out these two forms petitioning for full-custody of Zane. I know you don’t want joint-custody with the D’Aggostinos, so you’ll have to fill out the forms and then present five witnesses.”
“Witnesses?”
“You’ll need to present five witnesses to a full Wizengamot who will attest to Zane’s well-being with the two of you as his parents. These witnesses have to be functional members of the magical community, cannot be related to either of you, and cannot be related to each other. They will be brought forth to a hearing by the Wizengamot and asked a series of questions pertaining to your parenting habits. They will be under oath and threatened with veritaserum if they appear to not be telling the truth.”
“So, we just have to bring these five witnesses, they answer a few questions, and then we’ll get custody of our son back?” Hermione asked slowly.
“Precisely. The Wizengamot must, of course, deem your witnesses’ testimonies credible and will come to a decision the day of the hearing.”
“That sounds simple enough,” Draco said with a nod.
“You know five people who will testify?” Blaise asked, grabbing a notepad from the pocket of his blazer. “I’ll have to submit their names for background checks, and we have to make sure they aren’t related to the two of you or related to each other.”
“I know Donny would help us,” Hermione offered, “and of course, Harry and Ron. That’s three people already.”
“Isn’t Weasley on that summer camp tour?” Draco asked.
“Oh, that’s right. He leaves for New York tomorrow,” Hermione sighed. “Well, any other Weasley could fill in for him. As much as you don’t like them, they all adore Zane.”
Draco scowled. “I never said I didn’t like them…”
Hermione scowled back. “We’ll talk about it later. Any one of them would gladly help us, but that still leaves us two people short. Almost everyone we know is related to us or them in some way.”
They thought for a moment. “How about Lupin?” Draco asked. “He’s not related to either of us.”
“But he’s married to your first cousin,” Hermione said. She turned to Blaise and Rhonda. “Is there anything in the rules about people related to us by marriage?”
Blaise and Rhonda looked at each other for assurance, and then turned back to the Malfoys. “No, Mr. Lupin can act as a witness since he is not related to either of you.”
“Well, good, that just leaves one person,” Draco murmured. “Can you do it, Blaise?”
“I’m Zane’s Godfather,” Blaise replied. “Can’t do it.”
“Do you think Oliver would help us?” Hermione asked Draco.
“He barely knows us,” Draco replied, “and I’m almost certain the bloke hates me, has always hated me and will continue to hate me until I’m old and gray.”
Hermione frowned and tapped her finger against her lips. “There has to be someone who would help us. Can we give you the final name as soon as we think of it?” she asked Blaise.
He nodded and stuck the notepad with the four names back into his blazer. “Once I have the last person, I’ll submit the list, and the Appellate Analysis can begin. I’m sure we can find someone.”
“So, that’s it? Once we find the final person, how long is the whole process?” Hermione asked.
“The background checks take a business day, and then the hearing by the Wizengamot is usually held on the Friday of the week you submit the names. The hearings usually take a few hours and the decision is given at the end, so if they rule in your favor, you could have Zane back in less than a week. It could be this week if you can get that final name to me by Wednesday.”
“Tomorrow is Wednesday,” Draco said.
“There’s always next week and the week after and the week after that and so on if you can’t find a final person by tomorrow,” Rhonda offered. “The only problem being that the longer it takes to find your fifth witness, the longer Zane has to stay in France.”
Hermione and Draco nodded their understanding. “We’ll try and find someone as soon as possible.”
Who would they ever find to help them?
By Wednesday night, they couldn’t think of anyone who could help them. They had lost contact with a lot of people since Hogwarts and most of their friends and acquaintances fell into the category of people who were either related to them or related to the other witnesses. Draco’s coworkers didn’t really know Hermione or Zane, so they couldn’t be of any help.
Their parents and friends tried to help them by thinking of people who could possibly fill the last witness position. Whoever would fill it would have to be close enough to the family to answer the questions well, or just be an extremely good liar. Hermione and Draco figured that their entire marriage was based on fooling the Ministry, why should they play by the rules now?
They were starting to lose hope after Thursday had passed. Their inability to think of someone meant that Zane would stay in France another week.
Friday night rolled around with Hermione and Draco sitting in the living room staring blankly at the television as an infomercial on knives aired. Hermione lay on her side, her head in Draco’s lap as they watched the overexcited announcer exclaim how the knives could cut through a boulder. She had already warned Draco not to make comments of how close her head was to his groin. The last time he had muttered something about convenience and mouths and “while you’re down there,” she had promptly punched his arm and left.
“I asked Donny if Oliver would fill in as the fifth witness,” she said tiredly. “She said he would have done it if he wasn’t doing that stupid summer camp tour thing.”
“Is it that same thing Weasley’s at?” Draco asked.
“Yes. Their teams do this summer camp for disabled teenagers all over the world. They build special brooms and balls for them to play with and it’s unequivocally the sweetest gesture out there.” She sighed. “Can’t say anything bad about it.”
“How about that bloke who… no, he’s related to the Weasleys. Damn, that family is huge,” he muttered.
“We’ll think of something, Draco. I’m a big believer in fate. If it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen.”
“Your optimism doesn’t help,” he grumbled. “Can’t we mope some more?”
She turned to her back and smiled up at him. “You’ve been doing enough for the both of us.”
He stuck his tongue out at her, clearly regressing to the mental age of seven, and flicked her forehead for good measure. “We’re never going to think of anyone.”
“Give it time,” she said, grabbing his hand and biting his finger playfully before he could flick her again.
He leaned his head back against the couch and shook his head. “I miss him.”
“I know you do,” she said softly. “I miss him, too.”
“What do you think he’s doing right about now?”
Hermione thought for a moment. “Well, if Pansy is doing a mediocre job, he should be getting ready for bed, possibly taking a bath.”
“I hope he splashes her.”
“Here’s hoping she drowns in the process,” Hermione said.
Draco smiled down at her. “He’s a good kid. He’s probably sitting in bed as we speak, getting her to read him a story.”
“Poor Zane. He could probably read a book better than she can.”
Several hundred miles away in a large chateau in France, Zane Malfoy picked up the small bottle that Fred and George had given him. They had told him to put the contents of the bottle in Pansy’s shampoo because it would make her hair turn very pretty.
Too bad for Pansy that Fred and George thought bald was beautiful.
Zane checked the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. They had told him that it was a big, secret mission and no one was supposed to find out that Zane had done anything. He had sworn, crossed his heart, vowed to Posey and Rosie that no one would ever know it was him.
He walked to the big doors that led to Pansy and that man’s bedroom. They were still downstairs, doing whatever they did after dinner, so the room was empty.
He quickly made it to the bathroom and found the large pink bottle resting in a basket near the bathtub. Fred and George had somehow known which was Pansy’s shampoo (no doubt having snuck into the room through the floo) and had told Zane to dump all of the little bottle’s liquid into the big bottle.
The little bottle contained a formula that would leave whoever used it completely bald. Only a special antidote manufactured by the Weasleys could reverse the effects. No spells, hexes or other potions could make the hair come back. At the special price of ninety galleons, Pansy could order the antidote, if she could ever figure out why she had suddenly lost her hair.
Once his task was finished, Zane pocketed the empty bottle and put the big bottle back in its place. He sprinted back to his room after checking the hallway again and jumped into his bed, out of breath and smiling like the devil himself.
Unca Fred and Unca George were going to be so proud!
As if his thoughts had conjured the troublesome duo, they appeared in the green flames and quickly climbed out of the hearth.
“Did you do it, mate?” Fred asked, walking to the bed and sitting on the edge.
Zane nodded. “I did it just like you told me to!”
“Where’s the small bottle?” George asked from his other side.
Zane pulled it out from his pocket and handed it to the twin, who promptly made it disappear with his wand. No incriminating evidence for them, thank you very much.
“Did you bring a story to read to me?” Zane asked.
“Yep. It’s about a dinosaur and robot,” Fred said, pulling a book out from behind him.
“Oh, wow!” Zane replied with amazement.
“Alright, you ready, mate?” Fred asked.
Zane nodded excitedly and settled beneath the covers.
“Once upon a time…”
The sunrise was a pleasant occurrence in the rustic town of Zane’s new home.
The sound of the birds chirping loudly outside his window had awoken him the past few mornings.
The strangled scream coming from the master bathroom that awoke him the next morning put a small smile on his face as he put a pillow over his head and fell back asleep. One trick down and many, many more to go.
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A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy