realmofthemuse - 1.C.2.
"The "what should be" never did exist, but people keep trying to live up to it. There is no "what should be," there is only what is."
-- Lenny Bruce
OOC: Based on an RP with zee_ali's mun, and used with permission and a whole lot of love. <3
James had not felt the comfort of a mattress and a pillow in days. He would have even said it was weeks, but he was still coherent enough to realize that that much time hadn't gone by yet. But if it hadn't already spilled over the one week mark, it was creeping dangerously close. As he stood in his backyard, over-looking the city, he heard the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the pool. His eyes strayed in its direction, the warm, almost surreal glow like a siren, calling him to swim. He went back inside and rummaged around some random boxes for a pair of swimming trunks.
After finding them, he changed and walked back outside. Diving in, the feeling of being weightless completely enveloped him, and he felt a semblance of peace wash over him. He bobbed back to the surface, then floated without purpose on his back. His eyes stared at the sky, wondering if Z could somehow see him from where she was. He wondered if there was an afterlife, and if there was, was she shaking her head at his seclusion? Was she muttering things under her breath, frustrated with the way he'd been acting? His eyes closed slowly, and he floated there for what seemed like hours, but was most likely a matter of seconds.
And then, it hit him. Something hit him. He sputtered and tried to stay afloat as something came in contact with his head, and he coughed and wheezed and tried to gather his breath as the chlorine cocktail entered his mouth and went down his throat. Once he'd finally gathered his composure, he rubbed his eyes and his face, his fingers scraping against the four-day old facial hair that he hadn't bothered to shave.
She was there.
She was standing in front of him. He rubbed his eyes again.
"Tell me I smoked something and I didn't fucking realize it." Sure, he'd smoked pot earlier that night as a release, but -- well, as far as he knew, it wasn't laced with anything else. God, he hoped he wasn't hallucinating while he was drowning at the bottom of the pool. Z, or the hallucination of Z, laughed as she dipped her legs into the pool, shrugging as innocently as a child.
"Maybe, or maybe you're just going craaaaaazy. What the hell are you doing anyways?" she asked, eyeing with a smirk and a curious brow. Staring, J blinked a few times.
"I'm. I was. Swimming. Floating. What -- Wait, why am I -- This is all some fucking weird hallucination. Ha-ha, I get it. Let me wake up now." Z watched him, scrunching up her nose. She shook her head.
"Newp. You got a surprise visit from yours truly because you need to hear a few things to keep in mind while you do this guz fraba stuff." James made a face of utter confusion.
"'Guz fraba.' That Italian for something?"
"I have no idea, I was watching Anger Management before coming here and they mentioned its like a zen-ing out sorta thing." James should've asked about watching movies in heaven, but figured there were more pressing matters at hand. The serious stare that washed over Z's face was enough to make him bite his tongue from asking trivial questions. "What are you really doing, J?"
"Oh. Guz fraba. I know what you're -- Yeah. I've seen that movie." James frowned. With a shrug and a tossing of his hands into the air, he blinked as the water from slapping them back down into the water speckled his face. "What? What do you mean?" He paused momentarily. "Oh, and for the record, since you're -- here and all. Well, it might still be some fucking trip or whatever, but for the record? I'm pissed. Not at you, necessarily, but I'm pissed. Just throwing that out there." Z's form slipped from her perch at the lip of the pool and waded towards him slowly.
"I know you're pissed. You think I'm happy with the outcome? I was supposed to live forever damnit. I got shafted hardcore, but I knew as soon as I died that first time that I'd be constantly looking over my shoulder." She took a few steps closer towards him. James wanted to relinquish, but he didn't move. "I know you're hurting and for fuck's sake, I ache because you're hurting this bad." He watched her as she spoke, leaning his back against the edge of the pool. His arms crossed over his chest as he felt his eyes go dark.
"Then make it go away. Don't you get some kind of .." He wiggled his fingers, "Magical powers or some shit? Make it stop hurting. Make me feel whole again. Make the gnawing and the hurting and the urge to just drown myself go away." Z tilted her head as she spoke, her line of sight catching his wiggling fingers. Cupping a hand and swiping it across the surface of the water, she sent a wave upon him. James tried to shield the water, but there was no point. He was drenched as it was, he might as well just keep up the trend.
"I haven't gotten the complimentary welcome to Heaven basket yet, J. I'm thinking it's a little early to be getting my wings," she sighed. "If I could, I would, but how would you feel if you didn't have some sort of feelings about me leaving? You'd hate yourself more and sooner or later, that would catch up and you'd be in a far worse position than you are now." Staring down at the bottom of the pool, he swirled his leg around in the water, feeling the resistance against his movements.
"I know I've got to feel something, but -- God damnit, Z." James lifted himself out of the pool, sliding his rear back on the edge, his legs now dangling in the water. "I didn't want to fucking feel this way. I didn't want to -- I don't sleep. I lay down and lay in bed, and don't fall asleep. Maybe an hour here, or half an hour there. I get up early and walk along the beach. I try to write music and even that's fucking gone now. I pushed my girlfriend away because I'm too fucking damaged and too fucking broken. She's going to fuck knows where, and I probably won't see her for another year because of her fucking job." He pulled his knees up to his chest, his arms resting on top, his head buried. "I don't want to feel nothing, but I don't -- I can't hurt this much. Everything aches, Z. Everything." Z's head dropped, her eyes watching her hands underneath the water.
"Why? I don't understand why. The way you're talking it makes me think I took a piece .. fuck that, ALL of you when I died."
"I don't know. I don't fucking understand it. I don't know why, Z. I don't. I've given up trying to figure it out. All I know -- All I know, which isn't a lot, but all I've got is that I'm empty. I'm fucking wrecked. Nothing else I can fucking do."
"Tell me the things you should've told me .." She took a few steps closer to her, her eyes going soft. ".. And don't move away from me when you tell me." Even as a ghost, or an apparition, or whatever she was, she knew him well enough to order him around. She knew he'd recoil.
"I. Z, I can't do this. I can't --" He shook his head adamantly. "I'm not strong enough for this."
"Yes, you are. Who told you you weren't?"
"I did," he replied shortly.
"I call bullshit. You've always told me how you felt. You read my letter, didn't you?" Her question made James glance away. Anywhere but her eyes. She followed his line of sight and caught his gaze.
"Yeah. I read your letter."
"Is this why you can't tell me? Because you think I expect to hear that you felt the same way? I wrote that letter 4 days before we left .. I was telling you how I felt. We were always honest with each other." He shook his head slowly, sighing heavily.
"No, that's not -- I. I've been honest with you -- I'm pissed. I'm hurt. I don't know how to fucking reconcile anything. I don't know how to move on and feel better and feel like losing you didn't fucking cut me to shreds."
"Then be honest with yourself. That's when everything will fall neatly into place and that first satisfying breath of air will be a healed on. I love you. I will always love you. But if you don't fucking admit the truth to yourself, then you're going to drive yourself insane." She extended a hand to him, which James eyed wearily. "Just let it go." He looked at her hand, then to her, then at her hand again before he slipped his into hers, the sobs forming in his throat.
"How can I let it go if -- Z, I can't -- I don't want to let you go." She curled her fingers around his hand, squeezing hard. James could have sworn that he saw the glitter of a tear forming in her eye, but didn't acknowledge it.
"You never have to let me go. I'll always be with you. I'll always be that Italian voice you hear somewhere in your memories. I'll always be that smile on your face when you go to Italy and tend to that vineyard. I'll be that for you and no one else." Choking on a sob, he slid himself back into the comfort of the water, wading his way towards her. He quickly wrapped her in a hug, fearing that she would be gone if he waited too long.
"It wasn't -- But it wasn't supposed to be .. You were supposed to go with me. To the vineyard. Help me figure out what the fuck I'm doing. I was supposed to keep playing songs for you in the mornings. I was supposed to -- You were supposed to be there when I got home. I wasn't supposed to have to fucking move here." As they embraced, he felt Z clinging to him, felt her face slide towards his shoulder, could feel her own body quiver with emotions.
"I know, but things don't always work out the way we want them to. You need to take me with you. In everything you want me to be apart of. I'll never leave you .. I promise. And maybe if the Fates allow it, you'll see my spirit somewhere else, in someone else. I wish I could change it. I wish I would have just .. went home and waited for you to come home."
"What the fuck happened, Z? I -- I don't want to see you in anyone else. I don't want to have to search you out, I want you to fucking be here. I don't want to have to try and take you with me, keep you a part of my fucking life. Because at the end of the fucking day, you're not here. You're not. You're gone again, and everyone -- Everyone has to fucking go through losing you, again and again, and again."
"I didn't want to go home. You weren't there. It was too empty." She pulled back from his body, looking up at him. She swiped at the tears spilling down his cheeks with the pad of her thumb. "And the worse part is I was only picking up my cell. I wanted to see if you'd texted me .." She sighed. "I'll never be sorry for anything I've done. That letter was something you needed to know." James felt his stomach sink in his body. The guilt washed over him quickly, and without mercy.
"I -- I was the reason you .. You weren't home?" Z shook her head, watching him.
"No. I just didn't want to be alone. It was too quiet. I needed noise." Struggling to find the strength, James stayed quiet. He simply let his eyes linger on her face, trying to see if she had changed, if she was warped by his memory, or if any of this was even real.
"I loved you, Z. I still love you. I wasn't sure -- I didn't know how I loved you, whether it was just friends or more. I was trying to figure it out when .. When you went back, and I kept .. I kept travelling. I've .. From that morning you woke up and told me to sing you a song, Z."
"You .. what since that first morning, J. Tell me. I need to hear it. Please."
"I've loved you -- I've loved you since you woke up, gave me that death glare, and then surprised me, by asking me to play some more. Since I .. I saw the way you watched me when I would get into those fucking moods." A laugh escaped his mouth. "Since I did those ridiculous rock concerts and 'rocked out' to Sweet Child O' Mine in the living room and you joined in." She echoed his laugh, her eyes staring off into his chest. "I -- I was waiting to tell you, in person .." He paused for a moment. "I got signed." She grinned widely.
"I knew you would .." He couldn't help but smile a little, despite himself.
"I still have to get famous, you realize," he commented, hugging her again.
"You will .. and I'll be way back in whatever venue you played in, waiting to hear your voice. I'll be there when you pledge your love to the woman who steals your heart. I'll be wherever you are because James, I don't want to be anywhere else." James' chest began to tighten, his eyes began to fill with tears he didn't think he had left. Pulling back from their hug, he stared into her eyes.
"I -- I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning, in this new house, and you're not -- I'm going to have to go through my day without you. I know you say you'll be there, that you'll be here," he said, placing his hand on his heart,"But it's -- Z, it's not good enough. It's just not."
"I know its not, James. And deep down in your heart, you're looking for something that gives you reason to believe that you'll wake up sometime in the future and realize this was all just a bad dream. Maybe it is .. maybe this is my nightmare. What if I wake up and look for you and you've forgotten this time? Do I get to deal with the heartache of not being able to be with you?"
"I won't -- I know my memory is less than stellar, but I don't -- I don't forget things like this. I won't."
"I believe you. Pay attention. Look for me. And create music. Lots of it. Sing for me, okay. Every morning, J. Don't let that go." James could only manage to nod, slowly, his eyes brimming, spilling with tears.
"I won't. I won't .. I'll keep playing. I'll keep writing. I'll get world famous, off of the songs that I'll play, that I'll sing for you. I'm not letting that go." As he watched Z, he could see the emotion taking its toll of her face. Before he knew it, her hand was against his cheek, her lips against his.
"I'll be waiting," she whispered. James refused to open his eyes. He knew the moment he did, she would be gone, and it would be as though it never happened.
"I love you, Z."
"Io L'amo con tutto quello che io sono, J. Always." He felt her lips against his one more time, the breath catching in his throat as he tried to mutter.
"God, you and that fucking Italian .."
He finally opened his eyes, knowing the outcome -- he was alone, floating on his back as he had been before he'd closed his eyes. Was the whole thing a dream? Did he really hallucinate? Or had Z really shown up? Had she really been there, telling him that it was okay, that it was time for him to let go?
Standing in the pool, his toe touched something at the bottom. He dug for it, and saw it was the towel he had planned on using after his swim. The one that he felt hit him in the head, before he opened his eyes and could've sworn she was standing there. Gripping it tightly, he clenched his jaw and looked up again.
He'd said his peace. He'd had the chance to talk with her, even if it was nothing more than the fabrication of his mind. And for once, he could breathe. It wasn't a matter of "she should still be alive," but rather that she wasn't, and he was. He just had to keep breathing.
James S. Carlisle
Original Character
2863 Words
-- Lenny Bruce
OOC: Based on an RP with zee_ali's mun, and used with permission and a whole lot of love. <3
James had not felt the comfort of a mattress and a pillow in days. He would have even said it was weeks, but he was still coherent enough to realize that that much time hadn't gone by yet. But if it hadn't already spilled over the one week mark, it was creeping dangerously close. As he stood in his backyard, over-looking the city, he heard the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the pool. His eyes strayed in its direction, the warm, almost surreal glow like a siren, calling him to swim. He went back inside and rummaged around some random boxes for a pair of swimming trunks.
After finding them, he changed and walked back outside. Diving in, the feeling of being weightless completely enveloped him, and he felt a semblance of peace wash over him. He bobbed back to the surface, then floated without purpose on his back. His eyes stared at the sky, wondering if Z could somehow see him from where she was. He wondered if there was an afterlife, and if there was, was she shaking her head at his seclusion? Was she muttering things under her breath, frustrated with the way he'd been acting? His eyes closed slowly, and he floated there for what seemed like hours, but was most likely a matter of seconds.
And then, it hit him. Something hit him. He sputtered and tried to stay afloat as something came in contact with his head, and he coughed and wheezed and tried to gather his breath as the chlorine cocktail entered his mouth and went down his throat. Once he'd finally gathered his composure, he rubbed his eyes and his face, his fingers scraping against the four-day old facial hair that he hadn't bothered to shave.
She was there.
She was standing in front of him. He rubbed his eyes again.
"Tell me I smoked something and I didn't fucking realize it." Sure, he'd smoked pot earlier that night as a release, but -- well, as far as he knew, it wasn't laced with anything else. God, he hoped he wasn't hallucinating while he was drowning at the bottom of the pool. Z, or the hallucination of Z, laughed as she dipped her legs into the pool, shrugging as innocently as a child.
"Maybe, or maybe you're just going craaaaaazy. What the hell are you doing anyways?" she asked, eyeing with a smirk and a curious brow. Staring, J blinked a few times.
"I'm. I was. Swimming. Floating. What -- Wait, why am I -- This is all some fucking weird hallucination. Ha-ha, I get it. Let me wake up now." Z watched him, scrunching up her nose. She shook her head.
"Newp. You got a surprise visit from yours truly because you need to hear a few things to keep in mind while you do this guz fraba stuff." James made a face of utter confusion.
"'Guz fraba.' That Italian for something?"
"I have no idea, I was watching Anger Management before coming here and they mentioned its like a zen-ing out sorta thing." James should've asked about watching movies in heaven, but figured there were more pressing matters at hand. The serious stare that washed over Z's face was enough to make him bite his tongue from asking trivial questions. "What are you really doing, J?"
"Oh. Guz fraba. I know what you're -- Yeah. I've seen that movie." James frowned. With a shrug and a tossing of his hands into the air, he blinked as the water from slapping them back down into the water speckled his face. "What? What do you mean?" He paused momentarily. "Oh, and for the record, since you're -- here and all. Well, it might still be some fucking trip or whatever, but for the record? I'm pissed. Not at you, necessarily, but I'm pissed. Just throwing that out there." Z's form slipped from her perch at the lip of the pool and waded towards him slowly.
"I know you're pissed. You think I'm happy with the outcome? I was supposed to live forever damnit. I got shafted hardcore, but I knew as soon as I died that first time that I'd be constantly looking over my shoulder." She took a few steps closer towards him. James wanted to relinquish, but he didn't move. "I know you're hurting and for fuck's sake, I ache because you're hurting this bad." He watched her as she spoke, leaning his back against the edge of the pool. His arms crossed over his chest as he felt his eyes go dark.
"Then make it go away. Don't you get some kind of .." He wiggled his fingers, "Magical powers or some shit? Make it stop hurting. Make me feel whole again. Make the gnawing and the hurting and the urge to just drown myself go away." Z tilted her head as she spoke, her line of sight catching his wiggling fingers. Cupping a hand and swiping it across the surface of the water, she sent a wave upon him. James tried to shield the water, but there was no point. He was drenched as it was, he might as well just keep up the trend.
"I haven't gotten the complimentary welcome to Heaven basket yet, J. I'm thinking it's a little early to be getting my wings," she sighed. "If I could, I would, but how would you feel if you didn't have some sort of feelings about me leaving? You'd hate yourself more and sooner or later, that would catch up and you'd be in a far worse position than you are now." Staring down at the bottom of the pool, he swirled his leg around in the water, feeling the resistance against his movements.
"I know I've got to feel something, but -- God damnit, Z." James lifted himself out of the pool, sliding his rear back on the edge, his legs now dangling in the water. "I didn't want to fucking feel this way. I didn't want to -- I don't sleep. I lay down and lay in bed, and don't fall asleep. Maybe an hour here, or half an hour there. I get up early and walk along the beach. I try to write music and even that's fucking gone now. I pushed my girlfriend away because I'm too fucking damaged and too fucking broken. She's going to fuck knows where, and I probably won't see her for another year because of her fucking job." He pulled his knees up to his chest, his arms resting on top, his head buried. "I don't want to feel nothing, but I don't -- I can't hurt this much. Everything aches, Z. Everything." Z's head dropped, her eyes watching her hands underneath the water.
"Why? I don't understand why. The way you're talking it makes me think I took a piece .. fuck that, ALL of you when I died."
"I don't know. I don't fucking understand it. I don't know why, Z. I don't. I've given up trying to figure it out. All I know -- All I know, which isn't a lot, but all I've got is that I'm empty. I'm fucking wrecked. Nothing else I can fucking do."
"Tell me the things you should've told me .." She took a few steps closer to her, her eyes going soft. ".. And don't move away from me when you tell me." Even as a ghost, or an apparition, or whatever she was, she knew him well enough to order him around. She knew he'd recoil.
"I. Z, I can't do this. I can't --" He shook his head adamantly. "I'm not strong enough for this."
"Yes, you are. Who told you you weren't?"
"I did," he replied shortly.
"I call bullshit. You've always told me how you felt. You read my letter, didn't you?" Her question made James glance away. Anywhere but her eyes. She followed his line of sight and caught his gaze.
"Yeah. I read your letter."
"Is this why you can't tell me? Because you think I expect to hear that you felt the same way? I wrote that letter 4 days before we left .. I was telling you how I felt. We were always honest with each other." He shook his head slowly, sighing heavily.
"No, that's not -- I. I've been honest with you -- I'm pissed. I'm hurt. I don't know how to fucking reconcile anything. I don't know how to move on and feel better and feel like losing you didn't fucking cut me to shreds."
"Then be honest with yourself. That's when everything will fall neatly into place and that first satisfying breath of air will be a healed on. I love you. I will always love you. But if you don't fucking admit the truth to yourself, then you're going to drive yourself insane." She extended a hand to him, which James eyed wearily. "Just let it go." He looked at her hand, then to her, then at her hand again before he slipped his into hers, the sobs forming in his throat.
"How can I let it go if -- Z, I can't -- I don't want to let you go." She curled her fingers around his hand, squeezing hard. James could have sworn that he saw the glitter of a tear forming in her eye, but didn't acknowledge it.
"You never have to let me go. I'll always be with you. I'll always be that Italian voice you hear somewhere in your memories. I'll always be that smile on your face when you go to Italy and tend to that vineyard. I'll be that for you and no one else." Choking on a sob, he slid himself back into the comfort of the water, wading his way towards her. He quickly wrapped her in a hug, fearing that she would be gone if he waited too long.
"It wasn't -- But it wasn't supposed to be .. You were supposed to go with me. To the vineyard. Help me figure out what the fuck I'm doing. I was supposed to keep playing songs for you in the mornings. I was supposed to -- You were supposed to be there when I got home. I wasn't supposed to have to fucking move here." As they embraced, he felt Z clinging to him, felt her face slide towards his shoulder, could feel her own body quiver with emotions.
"I know, but things don't always work out the way we want them to. You need to take me with you. In everything you want me to be apart of. I'll never leave you .. I promise. And maybe if the Fates allow it, you'll see my spirit somewhere else, in someone else. I wish I could change it. I wish I would have just .. went home and waited for you to come home."
"What the fuck happened, Z? I -- I don't want to see you in anyone else. I don't want to have to search you out, I want you to fucking be here. I don't want to have to try and take you with me, keep you a part of my fucking life. Because at the end of the fucking day, you're not here. You're not. You're gone again, and everyone -- Everyone has to fucking go through losing you, again and again, and again."
"I didn't want to go home. You weren't there. It was too empty." She pulled back from his body, looking up at him. She swiped at the tears spilling down his cheeks with the pad of her thumb. "And the worse part is I was only picking up my cell. I wanted to see if you'd texted me .." She sighed. "I'll never be sorry for anything I've done. That letter was something you needed to know." James felt his stomach sink in his body. The guilt washed over him quickly, and without mercy.
"I -- I was the reason you .. You weren't home?" Z shook her head, watching him.
"No. I just didn't want to be alone. It was too quiet. I needed noise." Struggling to find the strength, James stayed quiet. He simply let his eyes linger on her face, trying to see if she had changed, if she was warped by his memory, or if any of this was even real.
"I loved you, Z. I still love you. I wasn't sure -- I didn't know how I loved you, whether it was just friends or more. I was trying to figure it out when .. When you went back, and I kept .. I kept travelling. I've .. From that morning you woke up and told me to sing you a song, Z."
"You .. what since that first morning, J. Tell me. I need to hear it. Please."
"I've loved you -- I've loved you since you woke up, gave me that death glare, and then surprised me, by asking me to play some more. Since I .. I saw the way you watched me when I would get into those fucking moods." A laugh escaped his mouth. "Since I did those ridiculous rock concerts and 'rocked out' to Sweet Child O' Mine in the living room and you joined in." She echoed his laugh, her eyes staring off into his chest. "I -- I was waiting to tell you, in person .." He paused for a moment. "I got signed." She grinned widely.
"I knew you would .." He couldn't help but smile a little, despite himself.
"I still have to get famous, you realize," he commented, hugging her again.
"You will .. and I'll be way back in whatever venue you played in, waiting to hear your voice. I'll be there when you pledge your love to the woman who steals your heart. I'll be wherever you are because James, I don't want to be anywhere else." James' chest began to tighten, his eyes began to fill with tears he didn't think he had left. Pulling back from their hug, he stared into her eyes.
"I -- I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning, in this new house, and you're not -- I'm going to have to go through my day without you. I know you say you'll be there, that you'll be here," he said, placing his hand on his heart,"But it's -- Z, it's not good enough. It's just not."
"I know its not, James. And deep down in your heart, you're looking for something that gives you reason to believe that you'll wake up sometime in the future and realize this was all just a bad dream. Maybe it is .. maybe this is my nightmare. What if I wake up and look for you and you've forgotten this time? Do I get to deal with the heartache of not being able to be with you?"
"I won't -- I know my memory is less than stellar, but I don't -- I don't forget things like this. I won't."
"I believe you. Pay attention. Look for me. And create music. Lots of it. Sing for me, okay. Every morning, J. Don't let that go." James could only manage to nod, slowly, his eyes brimming, spilling with tears.
"I won't. I won't .. I'll keep playing. I'll keep writing. I'll get world famous, off of the songs that I'll play, that I'll sing for you. I'm not letting that go." As he watched Z, he could see the emotion taking its toll of her face. Before he knew it, her hand was against his cheek, her lips against his.
"I'll be waiting," she whispered. James refused to open his eyes. He knew the moment he did, she would be gone, and it would be as though it never happened.
"I love you, Z."
"Io L'amo con tutto quello che io sono, J. Always." He felt her lips against his one more time, the breath catching in his throat as he tried to mutter.
"God, you and that fucking Italian .."
He finally opened his eyes, knowing the outcome -- he was alone, floating on his back as he had been before he'd closed his eyes. Was the whole thing a dream? Did he really hallucinate? Or had Z really shown up? Had she really been there, telling him that it was okay, that it was time for him to let go?
Standing in the pool, his toe touched something at the bottom. He dug for it, and saw it was the towel he had planned on using after his swim. The one that he felt hit him in the head, before he opened his eyes and could've sworn she was standing there. Gripping it tightly, he clenched his jaw and looked up again.
He'd said his peace. He'd had the chance to talk with her, even if it was nothing more than the fabrication of his mind. And for once, he could breathe. It wasn't a matter of "she should still be alive," but rather that she wasn't, and he was. He just had to keep breathing.
James S. Carlisle
Original Character
2863 Words