This was the end. Draco looked down at the empty plates, watched Harry take the bill from the smiling waitress. Around them the tables were now empty, above the flowers bloomed, filling the air with sweet perfume, and inside Draco felt a little like dying.

He almost wished it had ended with a fight and a broken nose. Instead, it had ended with shared desserts and vague conversations about Harry's job with the aurors that he didn't seem to want to talk about in any detail. Perhaps, hair potions were as personal as he was willing to get. Perhaps, he had only asked Draco about his life to be polite.

It's only one night he reminded himself.

A date bought and paid for.

Nothing more.

nothing more

"Ready to go?" Harry asked, standing from his chair.

Draco nodded mutely and followed suit, feeling numb.

They walked through the now almost empty restaurant. The staff cleaned the tables, the kitchen was quiet. They had stayed until closing.

Draco shivered when he stepped outside though it wasn't really cold enough to warrant it.

"Wanna get a drink?"

"I- What?" Draco turned on his heel.

Harry nodded up the street, "We passed a bar on the way here."

"A bar," Draco echoed dumbfounded.

Harry smiled faintly, "Is that a no?"

"Is that a n-?" Draco shook himself mentally and said carefully, "I... would not be opposed to such a proposition."

He heard Harry laugh under his breath, "Come on."

Draco followed him up the street feeling completely off balance. He finally managed to ask, "What's so amusing?"

Harry glanced over at him, a smile playing on his mouth, "Just, you know."

Draco's brow furrowed, "...Do I?"

"Yup," Harry said, shrugging his hands into his pockets.

Draco huffed faintly, "I'm almost certain you're capable of making sense."

"Hey!" Harry laughed and elbowed Draco in the side.

Draco stumbled and glared at Harry halfheartedly.

The bar was, decent. At least it wasn't a dive. Light and sound poured out from inside.

Harry pushed his way to the front of the bar easily, "What do you want? He called over the noise, "beer, mead, more wine?"

Draco wasn't as familiar with muggle alcohol. He hazarded, "Mead if they have something half decent."

Harry rolled his eyes and shouted their order over the other voices then carried their drinks over to a small table against the wall.

Draco traced the edge of his glass and stared out at the crowded bar. His stomach was fluttering with anxiety. At the start of the evening, Harry said he came to pick him up to make amends. The dinner was an arrangement, a fantasy without meaning. This- This drink, this bar, he didn't know what it meant. Anxiety gnawed restlessly at his gut. He was terrified by his own tentative hope that this might mean something.

Since trying to engage Harry about his work hadn't resulted in anything Draco tried another tact, "Do you have any hobbies?"

"Hobbies?" Harry said blankly.

Draco sighed, "What do you do for fun, Potter? Surely there is more to your life than a job you won't talk about and charity balls where you spend most of your time looking uncomfortable."

Harry smiled ruefully, "Yeah. I'd skip the balls altogether if I could but apparently, it's the only way to pry money out of old stuffy traditionalists."

"Traditionalists," Draco repeated with a sneer, "It's just a new way to say pureblood muggle hater without all the political baggage. I wouldn't think you'd be supportive of that absolute shite."

Harry winced and took a deep draft of his beer, "Not really. Hermione thinks maybe the emphasis on tradition and culture, rather than blood purity, will help change their minds."

Draco muttered, "I'm quite certain the only way to change that lots mind is with a hammer."

Harry snickered and pointed out, "You changed your mind."

Draco sneered coldly, "I was young and I learned the hard way. Their tradition is just another word for control. It always has been and it always will be." He drank his mead which turned out to be a hydromel with very little alcohol and was far too sweet, with a generic commercial honey taste that lingered on the back of his teeth. He tried to steer the conversation back, "I asked about your hobbies."

Harry shrugged, "Hang out with friends mostly."

Draco narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair heavily as Harry once again avoided answering his question in anything but the vaguest terms. He finished the glass and stood up, threading his way to the bar and spent a good five minutes arguing with the bartender until the cocky fuck did his job and got him a glass of something decent. He came back to the table and sipped the nice dry, hopped mead more with satisfaction than any real desire to drink at that point.

.

.

A hand slammed down on the table and for a second Draco thought it was Blaise before he realized that was daft. The only thing the hand had in common with Blaise was the dark skin tone, the rest was decidedly feminine, and as he looked up, decidedly Granger. That and Blaise had been living on the continent for the last two years and was not due to visit for three weeks. To be safe he decided not to finish his mead and pushed the half-empty glass away from himself with the tip of a finger.

When Draco looked back at Harry, his expression was shifting from surprise to something with a lot more anger in it.

"Did you put a tracking spell on me?!" Harry asked in dismay.

Granger's brow furrowed, "Of course I did, Harry!" She gestured at Draco as if that said everything, but went on, "Did you really think I wouldn't when you were having dinner with him?"

Draco propped his head on his hand, "I resent that, you know," he said blandly.

Granger turned to yell at him but Draco cut her off.

"I've been good," he said, trying not to pout, "Five years!" He held up a hand with finger splayed for the counting, "I've been cursed at, spit on, hexed in the streets and I never- I kept myself to myself. Worked, kept my head down, tried to do the right thing even with aurors laughing in my face." he dropped his free hand back on the sticky table and grimaced, pulling it back and rubbing his fingers together distastefully.

"Is Malfoy drunk?" Granger asked Harry in dismay.

"Hardly," Draco drawled, "I cry when I'm drunk, thank you very much."

They were both staring at him and Draco had to fight to urge to grab his glass anyway. He settled on just looking at it petulantly. He was buzzed, perhaps more than he was comfortable with in front of people he wasn't on the best of terms with, but not drunk. And he refused to be embarrassed about crying, it was a perfectly normal and healthy human response.

After a moment's pause, Harry said, "I invited him for drinks. Thanks for worrying about me, 'Moine, but we're fine."

"But it's Malfoy!" Granger hissed, pulling on Harry's arm.

Harry looked at Draco, "He's alright," he said with a funny little smile.

Draco pushed a hand nervously through his hair and had to look away, his cheeks feeling warm.

Granger gave Harry a significant look and he let her pull him to his feet and lead him across the bar. Draco watched, both their brows furrowed as they argued, mouths moving silently, all sound drowned by the raucous room.

Their conversation reached his ears as Harry walked back to the table, Granger at his elbow.

Granger glared at him and finally conceded, "Are you safe to apparate?"

"Only one glass of wine with dinner and one pint, so I should be," Harry said, dropping back into his chair and to reassure Granger he added, "I'll call the Knight Bus if I drink any more."

Granger took a step back, hands on her hips, "I'm not taking the tracking spell off, not until I know you're home safe."

Harry sighed, "Fine."

They both turned to watch her leave. Harry waved when Granger glanced back before going out the door.

"You only drank one glass of wine?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded, one eyebrow twitching up slightly, "I'm not a big wine drinker."

"That means I finished the bottle," Draco groaned and rubbed his temples, "Fuck."

Harry laughed.

"I don't normally drink that much," he tried to explain, feeling like an idiot.

"Oh, really?" Harry grinned.

"Yes, really, Potter!" Draco said vehemently, "I was just ner-" he froze on the word and then let it out with a resigned sigh, "-nervous."

"You? Nervous?" Harry raised his eyebrows, "That's hard to imagine. You seemed very... confident all night."

"I'm good at pretending," Draco muttered, "I've had a great deal of practice."

Harry picked up his pint and, finding it empty, sat it back down, "Why're you nervous?" He glanced at the bar like he was thinking of ordering another pint but took Draco's half empty glass instead, finishing it off in a few swallows.

"You." Draco said simply.

"Me?" Harry smiled a confused little smile, "What about me makes you nervous?"

Draco sighed, "Just you."

"Are you sure you're not drunk?" Harry asked.

Draco looked up at him, Potter with his green eyes and wild curling hair, smiling at him like they were close- close, somehow anyway... but they weren't.

Just one night, his traitorous mind reminded him, and his eyes began to ache. "Maybe, I am," he lied and pressed the back of his hand over his eyes, leaning into his own arm and letting his sleeve pick up any stray tears.

"I guess we should call it a night," Harry said.

Draco heard the table rattle as Harry stood and he let Harry's arm guide him upright.

He took Draco's hand and pulled it over his shoulder, "Hold on."

Draco didn't get wobbly when he drank, at least not until he got to the blackout drunk stage, but he held onto Harry. Harry's other arm circling around Draco's back to steady him and they walked out of the bar. Draco wobbled but only because the only thing he could focus on was where Harry was touching him, it made him feel more lightheaded than the fading alcohol in his system.

The air outside was cool, the sky muted to grey by all the muggle lights. Draco turned his head up to look at it, searching for the faintest glimmers of the brightest stars. Harry tugged him along down the sidewalk and Draco let himself be guided. They passed under a streetlight that buzzed loudly and flickered as they got close. A moth fluttered fixedly at the glass covered lamp, the yellow light turning the insect's brown wings white.

"Do you remember the fiendfyre?" Draco asked suddenly.

Harry shivered, "How could I forget?" he said softly.

Draco said to the stars, "When you pulled me on your broom, I could feel your heartbeat." He looked over at Harry, "It was racing."

"I was terrified," Harry said in a yeah so? sort of tone.

"That was when I realized you were human," Draco said, drawing in a deep breath of cold air and hoping it would clear his head.

Harry laughed, "What else would I be?!"

Draco smiled ruefully, "For a while, I thought you were something... more than human, and then for a long time I thought you were less... and then I thought you were more again, you had to be," His brow furrowed, "but after the fiendfyre, I realized you were just as human as I was."

"Is that good or bad?" Harry asked, trying to hold onto a joking tone.

Draco gave him a fond smile, "It was terrifying."

Harry's brows rose and he had no response to give.

Draco went on, "You were human and yet you did, all the things you did," he gestured broadly out in front of them, "even when you were afraid and with your heart racing. And that, made you the most amazing human being I had ever, will ever meet."

"You said you weren't in on the whole hero worship thing," Harry said accusingly.

"Hero worship?" Draco repeated, his brow furrowing with genuine amusement, "Hero worship?" he shook his head, trying not to laugh.

Harry stopped walking, pulling Draco to a stop with him, "What is it then?"

Draco said softly, "Your hair potion's wearing off," He reached up slowly, letting his fingers brush through some of the loose curls pushing wild from their magical confines. Harry's hair felt thick and smooth against his fingertips. Draco wondered if he put this memory in a pensive if he could live in it forever.

He hurriedly pulled his hand back to wipe his eyes, blinking back tears.

"You really are a weepy drunk," Harry said lightly.

"Yes," Draco said quietly, "precisely so."

Harry looked up and down the empty street, flicking his wand out of his sleeve and raised it into the air. Draco realized what he was doing just as the ridiculous triple-decker purple bus screeched to a stop in front of them.

"What-?" Draco gasped as Harry's arm tightened around his waist and pushing him up the narrow stairs leading into the bus. The inside of the bus was just as obnoxiously purple as the outside. Cushioned armchairs were haphazardly ringed around a small wobbly looking table. Draco stared at blankly in dismay.

"Come on, before they start moving!" Harry took him by the arm and pulled him into a chair.

Draco had barely sat down when the strange vehicle gave a horrendous lurch and pelted down the street at a breakneck speed. Harry was thrown back into another chair nearby. Their chairs slid across the floor as they rounded a corner without apparently slowing down at all.

"Ever been on the Knight bus before?" Harry wheezed.

"No," Draco said faintly gripping the threadbare arms so tightly he was surprised his fingers didn't creak, "Why are we taking this wretched contraption?"

"Well, I told Hermione I would if I had anything more to drink," Harry said cheerfully.

Draco's brow furrowed, "A half a glass of mead? Really, Potter?"

There was an awful screech and Draco almost fell out of his chair as they swerved around another corner. Draco eventually had to close his eyes and hold on, occupying his time by fervently wishing for it to be over. Then the twists, turns, and horrendous squeezes were gone and when he opened his eyes again they were in the countryside, following long empty roads surrounded by farmland.

Draco pried his hands off the arms of the chair, pressing one over his thundering heart. If he had been drunk at all before, he was sober as a stone now. He felt nauseous and confused, which in turn made him irritable, "Why are we riding this metal deathtrap, Potter? The truth," Draco pressed, "You've been drawing this out from the beginning and now you're not even being subtle."

Harry brows twitched together and he looked out the dark window. "I guess... I've been trying to figure out what you want from me," Harry said, "It was investing in Panacea, wasn't it?"

"In what?" Draco said blankly, a cold feeling flooding through him and making him feel slow.

Harry glanced over at Draco as he worried his bottom lip, "I'm slow, but even I know someone doesn't spend two thousand galleons without a reason."

The gnawing nausea in Draco's gut twisted into a fierce ache. He realized with horror that he had- His fingers clutched his tie and shirt, crumpling the fine fabric. Draco looked down at his hand. It was shaking.

He had hoped- He had honestly thought that Harry was spending time with him because he enjoyed his company. Draco felt like a complete and utter fool.

"Stop the bus!" Draco shouted, lurching to his feet before it had even stopped moving.

Harry's hands braced on the arms of his chair, "What are you-?"

"Leaving," Draco said simply, "I'm quite sober enough to apparate now. If you want to invest with Panacea I'll owl you their information. I'm certain you can figure it out or find someone else to assist you."

Harry went to stand up and froze at the expression he saw on Draco's face, though what it was he saw, Draco didn't dare speculate.

"I will tell you why I won the auction," Draco said hoarsely unconsciously edging back towards the doors, putting his chair between him and Harry, "Then, I'm getting off the bus and going home where I shall drink enough to hopefully forget I ever said this."

Draco desperately wanted to look out the window, the floor, his own trembling hands; anywhere but at Harry. He forced himself to look. Harry's hair was going wild, tumbling around his ears and over his forehead in curling loops. His green eyes were bright and too wide.

Draco took a deep breath, "You're a clueless fool with a terrible wardrobe, more bravery than sense and your hair is ridiculous-"

Harry frowned, "Wha-"

Draco went on doggedly, "Despite that, I find myself totally and completely infatuated with you."

Harry's eyes went wide.

"I knew it was impossible from the beginning. I just..." Draco shook his head roughly and turned away. "wanted one night," He kept his eyes locked onto his feet as he clattered down the metal steps outside, walking from the black muggle roadway and into the tall lush grass running along the side. A moss-covered stone wall ran parallel the road and Draco followed it, stretching his stride until he was far enough away from the bus that apparition wouldn't affect it.

He pulled out his wand and disappeared with a crack.

Gravel crunched faintly underfoot as he landed at the top of the sloping driveway.

The air at the manor was cool and smelled sweetly of roses. Draco stood in the darkness and gasped it down greedily until some of the heat had left his face and his hands only shook a little. He was still squeezing his shirt with one hand, as almost an act of comfort now. Draco slowly unclenched his hand and absently smoothed the fine linen and silk by feel alone.

Light spilled over his back as the main door slowly creaked open, "Draco?" his mother called softly.

Draco took another deep breath before going inside, taking the door from his mother and carefully closing it behind them. "Good evening, Mother," he said, feeling too fragile to pull his voice above a murmur, "is Jasley already off for the evening?"

Mother nodded, "I felt you come through the wards." She was already dressed for bed, her blond hair, now heavily streaked with white, was pulled into a single long braid over her shoulder.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Draco said crossing his arms over his abdomen and pressing his hands flat to his sides. "You can go back to bed."

"I wasn't sleeping," she said stepping close and touching his arm, "It didn't go well?"

Draco stiffened, "Did Pansy-?"

"It was in the papers, Draco," Mother searched his expression, a pinch of worry between her eyes, "I'm sorry. He was always important to you."

The last of Draco's resolve crumbled and he let his arms fall to his sides with a shudder. His mother wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him tightly. Draco leaned over to drop his head on her shoulder. He longed for the time when he could feel small in her arms, before the war, before school, before everything.

But that was selfish. Everything had led to Harry saving the world. Better everyone's happiness, than his own small petty desires. He had been selfish enough for one lifetime already. It was just as Pansy had said, he would grieve and move on. It was time.

Mother carefully stepped back and Draco wiped his eyes dry though he knew they wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Would you like me to make you some tea or hot chocolate?" Narcissa asked.

Draco shook his head and let her take his arm and lead him up the stairs to his room.

"Can I get you anything at all?" She asked quietly, glancing into the dark room.

Draco managed a weak smile, "No, I'll be fine." If there was anyone he was going to be exiled from the world with, he was glad it was his mother. Draco leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, "Thank you."

She patted his hand as Draco stepped back, "You'll join me for breakfast won't you?" Mother saw him hesitate and amended, "Just tell Jasley when you wake up, we can have tea or lunch. Invite Pansy over. You shouldn't be alone."

"Mother," he sighed with exasperation.

Mother pursed her lips at him, "You stew, Draco. It's not healthy. I'll see you tomorrow," she reached out to squeeze his arm one more time before heading further down the hall. She stopped right before heading around the corner towards her own rooms and called back, "There's dreamless sleep in your potions cabinet if you need it."

He waved an acknowledgement and stepped inside, leaning on the door as it clicked closed. His rooms were still dark but a faint orange light leaked from the banked fire in the outer sitting room. He stared over at the fireplace, making out the outline of the table, an array of chairs and the small couch in front of it.

Draco shivered. He felt empty and strangely winded as if someone had punched him in the gut. Biting his lip, he dropped his head back against the door with a faint echoing thud. His palms slid against the smooth surface, fingers curling, his nails scraped across the wood, too loud in the stillness. He let himself slide down until he was sitting on the floor, knees pulled tight to his chest.

Draco pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it over his eyes. Deep shaking breaths were the only sound he made, a habit learned after living in a house full of psychopaths. His other hand fumbled at his throat, pulling his tie loose and unbuttoning his collar.

A prickle went down his spine and Draco's head shot up so fast he smacked it against the back of the door. The wards had been triggered.

Draco pushed himself up, pulling his tie off and letting it fall to the ground as he pulled his door open and hurried downstairs. He knew what he was hoping, he also knew he was an idiot for hoping it at all. He wiped his face one last time and tried to fix his hair before pulling the front door open.

Harry was standing there, hand upraised to knock, blinking owlishly into the light and he was completely soaking wet.

Draco stepped back, pulling the door further open to see him better. arrye was indeed dripping wet and, as Draco looked up, it was not, in fact, raining.

"What the hell happened to you?" Draco asked.

Harry cleared his throat absently, "I could ask the same thing about you."

Draco was not going to answer that, it was quite obvious to anyone who had eyes what had happened to him. He raised an eyebrow and waited.

Harry looked down at his feet, they squelched as he shifted them, "I misjudged my apparition and, um, landed in a pond near the gates." He pushed a hand through his wet hair which stubbornly flopped into even more of a mess.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco asked quietly, feeling his throat go tight again. He looked away and blinked back tears.

Harry bit his lip, "I wanted to-"

"Draco? Who is it?" Mother called, her soft footsteps approaching across the floor.

Draco pulled the door all the way open so his approaching mother could see Potter in all his dripping glory, "Harry Potter," Draco sighed, "He fell in the trout pond."

"Oh," His mother's hand went to her mouth, "those poor fish."

Harry's mouth fell open, looking much like the fish he must have traumatized and, at that, Draco completely lost it. He laughed and laughed, until he was breathless and had to hold onto the doorknob to keep from falling over.

"It's not that funny," Harry grumbled.

Mother carefully hid her smile with her hand although it still showed in her eyes. She looked at Draco and seemed to come to some sort of decision, "Come inside, Mr Potter, before you catch sick."

Harry fumbled around in his pocket for his wand, "I should dry off first-"

"Oh, no, dear," Narcissa cut him off firmly, "You'll ruin your clothes if you dry them now. Just come inside." She took her own wand out and layered an impervious charm on the carpet.

"It would be such a shame to ruin them, seeing as it's probably the only nice outfit you own," Draco said, still leaning on the door and feeling flushed from laughing so hard.

"Oh, shut it," Harry said quietly as he stepped inside, trying to keep on the tiles on the sides of the plush runner.

"This way," Narcissa said, heading back up the entrance hall in a way that said she had no doubt she'd be obeyed, "Draco, find something Mr Potter can change into once he's cleaned up."

Harry only hesitated for a moment to glance at Draco and then hurried after her.

"Yes, Mother," Draco said, easing the door shut and waiting for a few beats before heading up the stairs as well.

He wasn't terribly surprised to find the door to his room open and the lights all lit. His mother was nowhere to be found. Draco went through the sitting room into the adjoining bedroom. A faint hiss from the ensuite bathroom told him that Harry was at that moment using his shower.

Draco took a deep breath and clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm as he went to his wardrobe. Draco wasn't terribly fond of jeans but he had acquired a few pairs. He pulled out a black pair, as well as a pair of dark linen trousers in case Harry would prefer that and an assortment of shirts. He almost forgot to grab pants, throwing them on the top of the pile at the last moment. He eased the bathroom door open and floated the pile to the counter, not trusting himself to step inside.

Draco paused in front of his mirror and scowled at himself. His eyes were ringed with red and he was a rumpled mess. He pulled off his jacket and waistcoat, running a hand over the wrinkled fabric at his throat. A comb put his hair mostly back to rights but only more Sleekeazy's would keep it from falling into his eyes and he wasn't in the mood to mess with the thick gel.

Draco retreated back to the sitting room. There was a tray sitting on the table with two steaming mugs of spiced cider under stasis charms. Draco smiled faintly and shook his head. He stoked up the fire and threw a few logs on it to chase away the slight chill, settling back in the small plush couch and stretching his legs out.

He did his best to ignore how hard his heart was pounding. Draco threaded his hands together and squeezed until his joints ached. He watched the fire with forced interest and tried not to pay attention to the sound of the shower turning off and the silence that followed. He didn't dare look up until he saw movement in the corner of his eye.

Harry was wearing the jeans, they were deliciously tight on him, rolled up on the bottom; and Draco's pale grey cashmere jumper, which was always loose on Draco, but fit across Harry's broad shoulders like a dream.

"I swear you've come back to torture me," Draco groaned, shielding his eyes with one hand.

Harry took a few steps closer, stopping behind a chair and running his hands along the top. "I hope not. I'm pretty sure your mum would kill me if I did."

Draco hummed noncommittally and dropped his hand but kept his gaze fixed on the fire.

He heard Harry take a deep breath, "I- I'm sorry for what I said on the bus."

Draco clenched his jaw. He forced himself to shrug, "You hardly could have known."

Harry moved around the chair and sat on the edge of the couch next Draco.

Draco sat up in alarm.

"I just don't get what someone as amazing as you would see in a mess like me," Harry said.

"Amazing?" Draco's said incredulously, "I was a deatheater."

"You were, but now you're managing an estate and a business, investing and putting up with harassment, learning about muggles, appreciating muggles, and you look-" Harry's throat bobbed as his gaze travelled down Draco's body and back up to look him in the eyes with a ferocity that made Draco shiver, "-you're the fittest bloke I've ever seen."

Draco's heart was thundering in his chest and he was certain he was shaking again.

"Whereas, I'm a disaster," Harry gestured broadly at himself with deprecating laugh, "My life peaked at seventeen and now I'm just a mess, with a job I don't really care for anymore and no hobbies and-" he broke off with the shake of his head and looked down at his hands.

"As if attraction ever made any sense, Potter," Draco said reaching over and taking Harry's hand in his, running his thumb back and forth over Harry's knuckles.

"Call me Harry," he squeezed Draco's hand, "I liked it when you did. Why did you stop?"

Draco's movement's stuttered, "It was easy to pretend during the date."

"And if it wasn't pretend?" Harry leaned over, pressing his shoulder to Draco's, "Will you go out with me, properly?"

"Properly?" Draco scoffed, "Your idea of a proper date probably involves fish and chips wrapped in newspaper."

"Nothing wrong with fish 'n chips."

"No there isn't," Draco met Harry's eyes with a mischievous grin, "I know a good place near the river."

Harry snorted, "You wanker."

Before Draco could retort Harry leaned forward and kissed him. Harry's lips were chapped but tasted sweet, Draco could feel himself shivering against them. He titled his head to better fit against Harry's mouth, reaching up to rake his hands through wild black hair. He felt Harry's hand trace his jaw and slide down his neck, pressing his fingertips into the dip of Draco's collarbone. The kiss went on forever and yet seemed far too short.

Harry pulled back, eyes shining, "Invite me to stay the night," he bit his bottom lip, letting it pull slowly free from his teeth as he smiled. "And tomorrow take me to your favourite place on the river for fish n' chips."

"Are you telling me what to do?" Draco said without much sting.

"Draco." was all Harry said and all he needed to say.

"Stay the night," Draco said softly, "and go out with me tomorrow."

Harry's smile rivalled the sun, "Ok."

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~Fin~

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(Thank you for reading! Comments are very much appreciated!)