InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 6: Shameless ❯ Jillian's Birthday ( Chapter 24 )

~~Chapter 24~~

~Jillian's Birthday~

 

 

 

“A moment, Gavin.”

 

“Shove it, Hank,” Gavin stated as he stomped past him and headed toward the house.

 

“No, listen. You—”

 

“Not now,” Gavin tossed over his shoulder. He barely stopped long enough to get the door open before closing it and striding toward the stairs. He'd worked himself up into a nice froth of righteous indignation on the drive home that he had every intention of confronting Jillian over her unorthodox behavior, damn the consequences.

 

Stopping short at the top of the landing, he narrowed his gaze at the closed door on one of the guest rooms. `Jilli . . .?'

 

If he hadn't known that something was bothering her before, he certainly did now. That Jillian had decided to sleep in another room . . . it spoke volumes, didn't it?

 

“Jilli?” he called, quietly tapping on the door with his knuckles. It was late but he rather doubted that she was sleeping. “Jilli, can I come in?”

 

“I'm tired, Gavin,” she called, her voice muffled by the door. It wasn't enough to hide the little sniffle that came afterward, and he grimaced as he realized a moment later that he could faintly smell the salt of her tears.

 

Scrubbing his face with his hands in a show of complete exasperation, Gavin stifled the nearly overwhelming desire to growl and drew a calming breath, instead. “Come on . . . I . . . I need to talk to you.”

 

He didn't think she was going to answer him. Seconds ticked away, and he lifted his hand to knock again when she unlocked the door and pulled it open just a crack. “Can't this wait till morning?” she asked plaintively.

 

“Why are you in there?” he asked before he could stop himself.

 

Jillian shook her head, her gaze falling away as her shoulders bobbed in a little shrug. “I don't know, Gavin . . . I figured I had to grow up sometime.”

 

“Wh—what—I . . .” He sighed. All of his irritation melted away in the face of her quiet resolve, and he understood. She had been awake, after all, and his thoughtless words . . . “A-about last night,” he forced himself to say, “I didn't mean that . . . I-I just—”

 

“It's okay, Gavin,” she broke in. “It's okay.”

 

“No, it's not! I didn't . . . I wasn't thinking. Hank startled me, and . . . Jilli . . .”

 

“So how did it go?” she asked, ignoring his bumbled apology.

 

The bittersweet smile that touched her lips was too much for him to tolerate. The ache that had been tormenting him all evening warred with the absolute panic inspired by the very idea of losing her. He'd do anything to make her laugh—really laugh. Desperate to fix the hurt he'd caused her, he racked his brain for something that she might listen to, for some way to explain that he hadn't meant the things he'd said to Hank . . . Latching onto the first thing that popped into his mind, he didn't think about how bad it was going to sound until it was out of his mouth. “I-I-I got a date,” he blurted.

 

Her chin snapped up, eyes widening in surprise—at least, he thought it was surprise. A flicker of a painful emotion surfaced on her face before she managed to cover it with an overly bright smile. “Good, good,” she agreed neutrally. “When?”

 

He grimaced, asking himself for the hundredth time why he'd even bothered to ask Cicily to go out. Stifling a long-suffering sigh, he shook his head. That wasn't true; not at all. He'd done it in the hopes that he could somehow pacify Jillian. “Uh, tomorrow . . . err, tonight . . . I guess it's after midnight.”

 

Why did she suddenly look like he'd said something far worse than he'd intended? “O-oh . . . right . . .” Abruptly turning away from the door, she crossed her arms over her chest in a purely protective sort of way and shuffled back over to the bed. For reasons Gavin didn't quite understand, he couldn't bring himself to step into the room, watching miserably as she crawled under the blankets and huddled in the middle of the bed with her back to him. “I'm tired,” she muttered.

 

Gavin shook his head. “I-isn't that what you wanted?” he asked quietly. He'd be more than happy to cancel the date, if that would make her happy. He only wished he could figure out what would make her happy, damn it all . . .

 

He stood there for another minute before pushing himself away from the doorframe. “I'm sorry, Jilli,” he murmured. Then he turned and walked away.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Evan Zelig slouched lower in his seat and stared out the window at the endless sky. Smashing a hand against his ear, he cocked his head to the side and grimaced. Air travel wasn't so horrible, he supposed, but he wasn't sure he'd ever grow completely accustomed to it. Most of the time, he preferred to ride in busses, but that hadn't really been an option since he was heading to Japan to officially kick off his first headlining tour since the Megalo-Monster Rock Festival had wrapped up the day before.

 

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around Madison's shoulders. She was sleeping—the only youkai he'd ever met that could actually do such a thing on an airplane.

 

The trill of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts, and he grinned as he checked the caller ID. “Jilli, baby!” he greeted warmly. “Happy birthday to you; happy birthday to you . . . happy birthday, darling Jilli . . . happy birthday to you . . .” he crooned.

 

She breathed out a little laugh. “Thank you, Evan.”

 

“Isn't it late in Montana?”

 

“I couldn't sleep,” she replied.

 

Evan's smile dimmed. He could hear the upset in his sister's voice. “Something happen?” he asked, deliberately trying to keep from sounding overly worried. So far as he knew, Jillian had no idea about the stalker, and he would be damned if she found out from him, but in the off chance that she had found out, he needed to know . . .

 

She sniffled and heaved a tumultuous sigh. “I guess you could say that,” she allowed.

 

“Tell me,” he demanded in a tone that left no room for argument.

 

Jillian sighed. “Do you think . . . would you mind if I flew out and hung with you and Maddy for awhile?”

 

Evan's scowl darkened, but he chuckled for her benefit. “What? Are you kidding me? Hanging out with a classy chick like you could only add to the mystique that is Zel Roka. Hell, an interviewer asked me yesterday whether or not the rumors I was going to marry you were true . . .”

 

Jillian laughed. It sounded strained, stilted. “What did you say?”

 

He snorted. “What do you think I said? I said, `hell, yeah,' of course.”

 

“That'd be about as wrong as the idea of you marrying Maddy,” she commented.

 

Evan laughed at that. Jillian was one of the few people who actually understood Evan and Madison's relationship. They enjoyed each other's bodies, certainly, but neither of them was interested in anything more permanent. It was difficult to understand to most, he supposed. They'd always been the best of friends, much like Jillian and Gavin, but where Jillian was convinced that she was Gavin's mate, neither Evan nor Madison ascribed to such beliefs. They loved each other, sure, but they weren't in love with each other, and therein lay the difference . . . “Yeah . . . Maddy's the marrying kind—too bad I'm not,” he quipped.

 

“So where are you?” Jillian asked.

 

“Heading for the Land of the Rising Sun . . . seemed like a good place to really start the tour, and they love me there, you know,” he joked.

 

“I could stop in and see Grandma and Grandpa . . . and everyone else,” she mused.

 

“Yep . . . trying to talk Granny K. into coming to one of my concerts, but the old man says it's all just noise to him, so I don't know . . . He is just not a fan of the drums and smokin' guitars . . .”

 

She laughed weakly. It sounded to his ears like she was trying not to cry. “Yeah . . . that'd be weird, wouldn't it? InuYasha Izayoi at a rock concert . . .”

 

“All right,” he said with a long, drawn out sigh. “Tell me what's going on, and don't try any of your subversive tactics with me, baby sister. I'm immune to your Jedi mind tricks.”

 

She sniffled again. “It's over, Evan,” she admitted quietly. “I know that now.”

 

“Over?” he echoed, sitting up and disturbing Madison's sleep. She moaned and curled up on her side but didn't open her eyes. “What do you mean, `over'?”

 

“He . . . he thinks I'm just a pup,” she said. “I guess maybe I am . . .”

 

“What'd he say?” he asked gently.

 

Jillian heaved a shaky sigh. “He told Hank that I was just a pup, that I've never really known what I wanted,” she whispered. “That's not true, but . . .”

 

“Yeah,” he said when she trailed off. He could feel the pain in her voice resonating through the phone, and he grimaced. “He's a fucking idiot.”

 

“Don't be so harsh, Evan,” she chided.

 

“Harsh, nothing . . . if I were there, I'd show him how harsh I can be . . .”

 

“He . . . he forgot my birthday,” she mumbled. “He's got a date for tonight, too . . .”

 

“A what?” Evan hissed. “That dirty little cocksucking son of a—”

 

“Evan!” she cut in. “Don't call him that!”

 

He snorted indelicately, making no bones about whether or not he was actually sorry for the slight. “Let me make a few calls, Jilli,” he finally allowed as he slumped back in the seat and rubbed his temple. “I'll get a ticket for you.”

 

“Thanks,” she said with a tired sigh.

 

“I'll call you back in a few,” he said.

 

Hanging up the phone, he glowered at it for a minute before dialing information and asking for Helena Regional Airport. Drumming his claws on the armrest, he gritted his teeth. Leave it to Gavin to screw up something as simple as claiming his mate. He sighed, waiting for the operator to connect the call for him.

 

It pissed him off, damn it. All Jillian had ever wanted was to be that doofus' mate. That Gavin was too dense to understand it was something that had always pissed Evan off. Seeing Jillian being hurt time and again . . . it just didn't sit well with him. Over the years, he'd always been the one that Jillian sought out when she was missing the fool she was in love with. Evan was the one that had hugged her and told her that Gavin would be back at the end of every summer after she'd held it together long enough to see the bastard get onto the plane that took him back to Montana. Evan was the one that had to come up with viable reasons why the idiot didn't return for over two years after he'd finished school. Evan was the one she'd called on that day—the last time Gavin had royally fucked up—and though he'd completely blown off a potentially big gig, he'd stayed on the phone with her until she reached the Zelig estate, too. He'd always left things alone, trusting that eventually Gavin would manage to work his head out of his ass, but forgetting Jillian's birthday and making a date with another woman? Was he really that stupid?

 

Evan sighed. Yeah, maybe Gavin really wasn't as smart as everyone believed him to be. In any case, it'd be a cold day in hell before Evan let him get away with his ration of bullshit this time . . .

 

It didn't take long for Evan to book a flight for Jillian from Helena, Montana, to LAX, and from there, he got her a connecting flight that would take her straight to Tokyo. Calling Jillian back long enough to tell her that her tickets would be waiting for her at Helena Regional Airport first thing in the morning and that her flight out was scheduled to depart at ten in the morning, Evan forced himself not to give voice to his true feelings on the matter.

 

“Jilli's flying out?” Madison asked drowsily.

 

“Yeah,” Evan said with a disgusted snort. “Damn idiot's blown it for real this time.”

 

Madison sighed and reached over to rub Evan's back. “What about the stalker?”

 

He shrugged. “You think I can't protect her from that bastard, too?”

 

Madison laughed and shook her head. “You know I don't think anything of the sort, Zel Roka. I thought you all wanted her to stay in the dark about it.”

 

“God, he pisses me right off,” Evan growled, flexing his claws, as he shot to his feet and stomped the length of the privately chartered plane. “He's got to know that she's his mate. If he's stupid enough to take chances like that with my baby sister, I swear on all that's holy, I'll make him wish he'd never been born.”

 

“It does seem like he's being a little short-sighted, doesn't it?”

 

Evan snorted and kept pacing. “Short-sighted, nothing. He's hurt Jillian for the last damn time.”

 

Narrowing her violet eyes, Madison watched him for a moment. “What are you going to do about it?” she finally asked.

 

Evan shot her a level look as he unfolded his cell phone and scanned the numbers stored in memory. “I'm gonna give him one last chance to fix it,” he growled.

 

Madison nodded then shrugged. “And if he doesn't?”

 

Sapphire eyes darkening dangerously, Evan draped his hand on his hip as he dialed the number and lifted the device to his ear. “Then heaven help him,” he muttered. “I swear to God I'll rip him to shreds, myself, if he fucks this one up, too.”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Gavin stepped outside onto the porch with his hands jammed into his pockets and a scowl on his face as he struggled to comprehend exactly what was happening and how to stop it before it got worse.

 

He hadn't meant to hurt her. Hell, he never meant to hurt her, and yet it seemed like maybe that's exactly what he'd done, time and again, because he'd panicked; because he was so used to denying things he felt and thought, even to himself, that it had somehow become second nature for him to say those things to Hank when he hadn't really meant any of it; not at all. It was just another of the excuses he had used over the years to convince himself that Jillian wasn't being serious, and why?

 

`Why . . .?' he repeated, shaking his head as he sank down on the porch steps with his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead on his raised fingertips.

 

It'd be simpler if he knew how to deal with her. He didn't. The underlying feel that something was wrong that he'd had when he woke up in the morning had gotten worse as the day had progressed, and like a pawn in a chess game, he kept going through the motions without actually being able to figure out just what was happening. `She . . . she hasn't called me `Gavvie' all day—not even once . . .' he suddenly realized. `She . . . damn it . . .'

 

And she'd moved out of his bedroom? He winced. That bit of knowledge struck a little harder than the dropping of a pet name she'd used for him ever since they'd met. He'd wondered off and on if she had somehow come to the understanding that he really didn't deserve her, after all, but no . . .

 

He sighed. No, instead, she'd overheard him saying stupid stuff yet again, only this time she'd taken what he'd said to heart. She honestly believed that he thought she was no more than a pup, didn't she?

 

The jarring sound of his cell phone jerked him out of his mire of self-loathing, and with a grimace, he dug it out of his pocket only to scowl at the number on the caller ID. “Hello?” he said after connecting the call.

 

“Hey, Gavvie . . . what's the haps?” Evan greeted casually—a little too casually.

 

“Evan . . . what's going on?”

 

Evan chuckled almost nastily. “Funny you should ask that, Gavin. I was just going to ask you the same damn thing. Care to fill me in?”

 

Gavin grimaced. “I've got everything under control,” he lied.

 

Evan wasn't buying. “Cut the crap, will you? Unlike my sister, I don't always believe everything you say.”

 

“Jillian doesn't—”

 

“The fuck she doesn't. She thinks you damn near walk on water. She always has, hasn't she, and that got you off for years. You're an idiot, Gavin—and complete and utter idiot.”

 

“It's not what you think! I didn't—”

 

Evan snorted derisively. “Of course you didn't! If you had . . . well, then you'd be a bastard, too. Come on! You've been in love with Jilli for years, and you know it! You think I didn't know you moved to the city for her? You think I don't realize that every time you called me over the years, you were really searching for any news on her? Fuck, Gavin! Open your eyes, will you? She's just been biding her time until you deigned to notice her—until you deigned to take her seriously!”

 

Gavin winced as Evan's barbs struck dead-on, one by one. “Look . . . you know, maybe she's better off without me,” he growled. “You and I both know that she deserves someone much better than me.”

 

“It ain't about what she deserves, damn it! Don't you dare fucking play with her life because you're too juvenile to get over yourself.”

 

“Get over myself? What the hell does that mean?”

 

Evan snorted. “You know damn well what that means! You're so stuck on the `poor me' crap that you've forgotten to look in the mirror. You're not the same scrawny little fucker you were when you were a pup. Don't you think it's about time you started acting like a man and stop hiding behind those `I'm not good enough' excuses?”

 

Snapping his mouth closed on the retort that was forming in his mind, Gavin grimaced when he realized that Evan was right. Maybe somewhere deep down, he still was that wiry little pup who hadn't managed to grow up despite what he looked like on the outside . . .

 

When he didn't reply, Evan heaved a sigh. “Look, man . . . Just fix it, okay? Stop making her smile when she feels like crying. Take her down off that pedestal where you've worshipped her for years and get it through your fat fucking head: if she leaves you now, she won't come back. You know that, don't you? Even if she wanted to . . . even Jilli can only stand so much.”

 

“Yeah,” Gavin rasped out, his throat suspiciously tight. His eyes were hot, grainy, and he blinked fast. “Yeah.”

 

“Fix it, Gavin,” he stated again. The line went dead, and Gavin sighed, dropping the phone onto the step beside him as he buried his face in his hands.

 

“You talk to her?”

 

“Not really,” he admitted without looking up.

 

Hank sighed and shuffled his feet, his boots scuffling against the sidewalk. “Gotta tell you, city slicker, you've really stuck your foot in it this time.”

 

“More than just my foot, Hank,” he grumbled, cheeks pinking furiously. “I think I'm in up to my neck . . .”

 

“Better start digging, then,” Hank mused.

 

Gavin rubbed his eyes, scowled into the darkness, stubbornly refusing to meet Hank's gaze. “I've spent my life doing things that went against my better judgment because Jillian wanted me to,” he admitted at length, “and now . . .”

 

“Now, what?”

 

Gavin sighed. “I . . . I made a date with a woman at the bar because Jillian wanted me to look for a mate. That woman . . . she isn't my mate! She's just some woman I wouldn't have given a second look otherwise, but Jilli . . . damn it . . .”

 

“A date?”

 

Gavin rested his elbows on his knees, letting his hands dangle between his legs as he slouched forward and shook his head. “Yeah, a date for tonight . . . hell if that made her happy, either . . .”

 

Whistling low, Hank shuffled his feet. “Shit, Gavin . . . for being so book smart, you'd think you'd be able to remember a few small things.”

 

“Like what?”

 

Hank snorted. “Here.”

 

Finally lifting his gaze, Gavin blinked at the cupcake with the single white candle that Hank shoved under his nose. “W . . . what's this?”

 

“Something you forgot,” Hank replied, setting the cake in Gavin's hand before tipping the brim of his Stetson and ambling back toward the bunk house.

 

“Shit . . .” Gavin mumbled, staring at the cupcake and slowly shaking his head. “Jilli's . . . birthday . . .” During the upset of the day, he'd forgotten that tomorrow—today—was her twenty-fourth birthday. The stricken look on her face flashed through his mind, and he grimaced. How many times had he felt that way when Jillian said she was going here or there with so-and-so? Sure, she only went places where he wouldn't be caught dead: all the gala events that comprised her life, and she'd always told him that she'd be happy to stay home with him if he'd rather. All he had to do was say the word . . .

 

He'd always believed that she was simply saying that to make him feel better, but was she? The strain that he'd noticed in her very aura lately seemed to be gone since she'd been on the ranch. Could it really be that she'd been telling him the wholehearted truth all these years? Had he put her on that proverbial pedestal where she was unable to commit any wrongdoing? It was that same pedestal that also held her just out of his reach . . . He had, hadn't he? Somehow he'd built her up in his mind, his perfect Jilli, his shining star. Maybe . . . maybe it was possible . . . and maybe he really had been nothing but a fool from the start . . .

 

He grimaced again as the feeling that he was a complete and utter ass loomed larger and larger. Yes, he supposed it was entirely possible. The sickened churning in the pit of his stomach grew steadily worse, and with a low groan, he grabbed his cell phone, catching the device in his teeth as he stood up to fish the number Cicily had given him out of his pocket.

 

He had to fix things, didn't he? He could start by cancelling the God-forsaken date he never should have made . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Jillian snapped the clasps on her suitcase and bit her cheek, wondering absently why she wasn't crying anymore. Maybe it was true, what they said: maybe it was possible to cry oneself out of tears . . .

 

`Get a hold of yourself, Jillian. Sitting here feeling sorry for yourself just won't do you any good . . .'

 

She nodded as she hauled the suitcase off the bed and stuck it in the closet. Evan said her flight was slated to depart at ten in the morning. That meant that she needed to be at the airport no later than eight, which in turn meant that she needed to leave the ranch by six-thirty. Placing a call to the only cab company in Hidekea, Jillian requested a taxi be there to take her to the airport. She almost set the phone aside when a sudden, vicious need to hear her father's steady voice drew a gasp from her, and she dialed the number without stopping to think that it had to be around three or four in the morning back home in Maine.

 

“Jilli? Baby? What's wrong?” Cain's voice came over the line. He didn't sound sleepy, no, but he did sound overly concerned.

 

“Hi, Daddy . . . sorry for calling so late—early—whatever.”

 

“It's okay. You sound upset.”

 

“No, I'm . . . fine,” she replied. “I just wanted to hear your voice; that's all. Were you still up?”

 

Cain sighed. “Yeah. Your mother is having trouble readjusting to the time difference since she got back yesterday . . .”

 

“I miss you all,” Jillian admitted.

 

“Miss us? You're on vacation . . . you aren't having a good time?”

 

“Of course I am,” she lied.

 

“Oh, happy birthday,” Cain said.

 

“Thanks,” she said with a small smile. “Thanks a lot.”

 

“Hold on. I'll get Gin. She'll want to wish you a happy birthday, too.”

 

A knock on the door drew her attention, and Jillian bit her lip. “It's okay, Daddy. Gavin's knocking on the door, so I'm going to go. Give Mama a huge hug and kiss for me?”

 

Cain chuckled. “Anytime, Jilli, though I have very little doubt that she'll call you in the morning, anyway.”

 

“Okay,” Jillian said as a second knock—this one a little bit louder—rang out. “Love you both.”

 

“You, too,” Cain replied.

 

She hung up the phone and set it on the nightstand before sticking her feet under the blankets and burying her face in the pillows.

 

“I know you're still awake,” Gavin called out. “I can see your light under the door . . .”

 

Grimacing at her own lack of foresight, Jillian opted to try the next best thing. “I'm tired, Gavin . . . I was just going to go to sleep.”

 

“This will only take a minute, I swear,” he assured her. “C-can I come in? Please?”

 

She sighed and sat up, hating the pleading tone in his voice. “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly.

 

The door opened with a soft click, and Gavin slowly met her gaze. His face was full of a sad reluctance, and she tried her hardest not to crumble. “I, uh . . . I cancelled that date,” he admitted then grimaced. “Well, I called and left a message on her voicemail . . . that's probably one of those dating faux pas, isn't it?”

 

She didn't even try to smile at his lame attempt at a joke.

 

He drew a deep breath and dug into his pocket, pulling out a small burgundy velvet jeweler's box as he came to her and sat on the edge of the bed. “H-happy birthday, Jilli.”

 

“You . . . remembered?”

 

He made a face. “When have I ever forgotten?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow in an awful affectation of a leading man in a cheesy soap opera. “Okay,” he admitted, “I kind of forgot, but I bought your present back in New York City . . . I saw them one day while I was walking to work . . . I thought . . . I hoped . . . you'd like them . . .”

 

“You didn't have to get me anything,” she said softly, quietly, her voice lower in pitch than normal and tinged with a harshness that bespoke unshed tears.

 

She stared at him for a moment. He scowled at the box before placing it in her hand. After another second, she carefully flipped the box open. Her free hand lifted, her fingers fluttering over her lips as she blinked the wash of tears that sprang to fill her gaze. The tiny filigree gold butterfly earrings blurred in her vision as she tried in vain to swallow her tears. “Butterflies,” she murmured, “because I'm still a little girl.”

 

“Ah, no! No!” he blurted. “It's just . . . I thought . . . They matched your necklace, you see? I thought you'd like them . . . I . . . I can take them back. I'll exchange them for something better,” he grumbled, reaching for the box as his cheeks exploded in color.

 

She jerked the box away from him, cradling it against her chest with a territorial little growl that she had never made before. Gavin blinked in surprise but pulled his hand away. “No! These are beautiful,” she countered. “You can't have them back.”

 

“Okay, okay,” he agreed. “I thought they matched . . . y-your necklace . . . Jilli?”

 

“Yes?” she replied absently, staring at the delicate butterflies as she quickly wiped her eyes.

 

“Where is your necklace?”

 

Reaching up to touch her neck, she couldn't hide the guilty expression that filtered over her face.

 

Gavin grimaced and recoiled. “I see . . .” he said stiffly, rising to his feet and turning away from her, the pain in his youki sharp and unsettling. “I guess you're tired . . . I'll . . . goodnight.”

 

Staring at the butterfly earrings that glittered on the bed of burgundy silk inside the box, Jillian couldn't contain the tiny whimper that escaped her. Standing up, she wandered over to grab the necklace off the dresser where she'd left it earlier before slipping back into bed with the necklace and the earrings held close to her heart.

 

 

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A/N:

 

Evan's Underwear Ad:

I'm not sure whatI was thinking. I did actually draw it out and posted it on Deviant Art. The URL is here: http://www.deviantart.com/view/35342847/ but please pay attention to this: you mustbe logged in to see it, and you have to have a DA account since it does have adult content. Evan isEvan, after all … Anyway, um… there it is …

 

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Reviewers

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JasonC:

Oh man.... this one saddened me quite a bit. I'm about to go out right now and I suddenly have a severe feeling of sadness on the brink of depression. That's what I love about your stories. You portray the characters and their emotions so well that the person reading it may actually feel those emotions and understand them. I have a question. What were you feeling while writing this chapter?

 

I tend to not really like to discuss what I'm thinking when I write certain things. Most often, I draw upon my own emotions to do so, and while the reason for the emotion might not be the same, this is a way I use to get the emotions out. It's intensely personal to me. I hope youunderstand.

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MMorg

inuyashaloverr ------ vvkimbo07 ------ leeksandmisosoup ------ Corcione ------ Death-By-Minnow ------ OROsan0677 ------ artemiswaterdragon ------ savvy_rae ------ Usagiseren05

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Forum Reviews

Proforce ------ My Own Self ------ cutechick18 ------ Chva the Mai-coh ------ Firedemon86

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Final Thought fromJillian:

Butterflies …

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Shameless): I do not claim any rights to InuYashaor the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~