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The Trillhouse SinThology	By : Trillhouse Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 4586 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A New Beginning

Lincoln sat hunched forward, his elbows rested on his knees and a tense expression adorning his face. It was a pleasant day in Ketcham Park, neither too hot nor too cold, not to mention mostly empty thanks to the early hour. Not that Lincoln was really taking it in… the man was so lost in his own thoughts that he was practically dead to the world.
Lincoln shut his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh as he leaned back against the park bench. He took another glance at his phone: 10:23. Seven minutes to go. Not that he expected the man to arrive right on the dot, assuming he even showed up at all. At some level, perhaps Lincoln wished he wouldn't. He'd tried to tell himself that time heals all wounds, but he somehow doubted that would be the case this time. If there ever had been a chance at reconciliation, that opportunity had long since passed. Besides, he hadn't set up this meeting to beg for forgiveness. He was here for advice and, God willing, perhaps some sense of closure.
It was 10:39 when the sound of approaching footsteps snapped him out of his thoughts, accompanied by the gentle crunching of autumn leaves underfoot. Lincoln tensed up, taking another deep breath before looking towards the source of the noise. As expected, there he was… so familiar and yet so much older, so much more worn and tired than when Lincoln had seen him last.
His father, Lynn Loud.
The man said nothing as he approached, nor as he stared coldly at his son for a few seconds before taking a seat beside him… noticeably as far from him as he could manage. Lincoln frowned and looked away, locking his fingers together as he considered what, exactly, he was meant to say. 'Hello'? 'Long time no see'?
"...Hey, dad."
Smooth.
"...Lincoln." Lynn's voice was cold and flat, nothing like what one would expect from a father who hadn't seen his son in twelve years. Not that he could blame him, given the… unique circumstances of the situation. After all, Lincoln had conceived no less than six children with his own sisters, right under his father's nose; not to mention four others after that. Even Lincoln himself felt a bit sick thinking back on it.
At first, keeping things secret from his parents had been easy enough. They'd assumed Loan was Bobby's, of course, and why wouldn't they? It went without saying that he and Lori had been sexually active, and it wasn't far-fetched to assume that she had gotten pregnant shortly before the boy's unfortunate accident. In a way, however, they had been connected… it was Bobby's death that had driven Lori to drink in her grief and, ultimately, force herself upon her younger brother.
Even now, the memory was enough to make the bile rise in Lincoln's throat.
But, perhaps out of weakness on his part, he could only blame Lori so much… a week prior to the incident he had been accidentally exposed to one of Lisa's experimental pheromone compounds. The side-effects hadn't been immediately apparent, but over time the boy's hormones spiraled more and more out of control.
And thus began Lincoln's nightmare.
Their parents had been more than willing to believe that the sweet and naïve Leni would get suckered into premarital sex, nor had they been surprised when the hard-partying Luna became pregnant with an illegitimate child... Luan, however, had been another matter. She'd hardly seemed the type to put out so easily, and of course three daughters conceiving bastard children in a row raised more than a few suspicions. When Lupa was born, that had been the end of it all: that white hair had left no question to her parentage.
To say they hadn't taken it well would be an understatement.
"Uh… thanks for agreeing to meet with me," Lincoln said softly, receiving little more than a vague grunt in response. The younger man cleared his throat before continuing. "Soo… how's mo-"
"How did you get our number, Lincoln?" His father asked plainly.
"I got it from Lily," He said. Lynn's eyes narrowed, a grimace crossing his face at his son's words.
"So you're talking to Lily now..."
"Yeah… and that's all we've been doing," His son assured him. The older man scoffed under his breath. "I'm telling the truth."
"You were 'telling the truth' before, too." Lincoln winced, though he couldn't really refute his father's point.
"...I'm telling the truth," He said again in a serious tone. "I've put all that behind me, now. Or… I'm trying to, at least." Lynn gave a dismissive snort of laughter.
"You really think you can put it behind you, Lincoln?" Lynn asked. "You know what they say about tigers and their stripes."
"Look, I wasn't myself-"
"Oh, cut the bullshit," Lynn spat. "I've heard it all before. 'It was Lisa's chemicals', 'I couldn't control myself', I've heard it all. You're not a child anymore, Lincoln… no matter what Lisa may have exposed you to, your actions are still yours. Stop pretending otherwise."
"I'm not… I'm not pretending," Lincoln muttered. "I fucked up. I know damn well I can't run from that, and I've given up trying to." His father fell silent once more; after some time, the man shut his eyes and sighed.
"Let's just cut to the chase. What do you want, Lincoln?" His son frowned and drummed his fingers against his knee. He looked over at his father, taking in the man's aged appearance. He looked tired and haggard, even considering his age; his eyes were framed by heavy creases and wrinkles, his skin was sagging and dotted with liver spots, and overall he seemed to have lost his confidence and lust for life. Lynn was naught but a shell of his former self and it wasn't lost on Lincoln that, at some level, he had caused this.
"Look, I…" He began, pausing to take a deep breath before continuing. "...I need some advice." His father glanced at him for the first time since sitting down, cocking an eyebrow in confusion.
"Advice…?" He asked; Lincoln nodded.
"Like I said, I'm done running. I'm trying to… fix this. Take responsibility, I mean."
"Are you, now." Lynn made no attempt to hide the incredulity in his voice, not that Lincoln could blame him. He fidgeted with his wedding ring as he mulled over his words, something that did not go unnoticed by his father. "...You're married?"
"Huh? Oh… yeah." He raised his hand to give the man a better look at the ring. "To Ronnie Anne, actually… remember her? We have two kids, Robert and Reina. Twins, actually… you'd like them, I think." Lynn glanced at the ring for a brief moment before looking away with a huff.
"That poor woman."
"She knows, you know," Lincoln said. "I was honest about it from the beginning. She… helped me when I needed it most. And even when I slipped again, when I betrayed her, she gave me another chance. This time, I'm not going to waste it." Lynn's expression was hard to read… he seemed to be searching his son's eyes, as though he were trying to get a read on him. Lincoln simply stared back with an unwavering, resolute gaze.
"Alright… go on, then." Lynn said. "What's this 'advice' you apparently need so badly?"
"There's been… a few changes, these past couple of years," Lincoln explained. "Loan ran away from home and she's been living with us ever since, with Lori's blessings. I've gotten back in contact with some of the others, too. Leni's been around a lot more, and Liena and Lyle-"
"Lyle…?" His father looked confused. Lincoln sighed; he'd forgotten just how deep his parents' resentment ran.
"...He's Leni's." Lincoln had already expected his father's scoff before he heard it.
"Just couldn't help but go back for more, huh?" He said in a harsh, judgmental tone. "Yeah, clearly you've learned your lesson."
"That was nearly six years a-" Lincoln caught himself and took a deep breath to calm down. No good would come out of fighting with the man. "...Look. Think what you want… judge me, hate me, I don't care. But I'm not that person anymore. I'm ready to stop running, to stop hiding from my mistakes. I'm ready to be a father to these kids."
"So you're going to ruin their lives by telling them what they really are?" Lynn countered.
"I'm going to tell them the truth, dad. Better they find out now than later," Lincoln said. "That's what I think, anyway." Lynn fell silent and glanced away, seemingly lost in thought. "Look, dad…" The younger man continued, shifting slightly to face him. "You and mom raised eleven kids on your own. I-"
"You want me to tell you how to raise your kids. Me. Because I did such a good job, right?" Lynn shook his head and gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "...You must be nuts." Lincoln could hear the bitterness in his father's tone, but it was different this time… focused inward, not outward.
"What happened wasn't your fault, dad," He said softly. "And it wasn't mom's either. You did the best you could, and honestly? I think you did the best anyone could do. What happened was on us, and nobody else." Lynn furrowed his brow as he considered his son's words, and Lincoln pushed on. "That's why… that's why I came to you. I want to know what you think I should do, here. Not as our father, but as a father. Please." For what felt like several minutes they sat in silence, broken only by the chirping of birds and the distant voices carried by the wind. Just as Lincoln was about to speak again, his father exhaled softly and scratched the back of his head.
"Those kids of yours… the twins. They know?" He asked.
"...Some of it, yeah."
"How'd they take it?"
"Pretty well, but… y'know. They're a bit too young to fully understand, I think." Lincoln said. "Loan knows too, of course. She took it pretty hard, but she's come to accept it more or less. And Liena and Lyle always knew… Leni never kept it a secret from them."
"Of course she didn't…" Lynn grumbled with a roll of his eyes. He leaned back and pinched at the bridge of his nose, taking a moment before continuing. "Alright… alright. Here's what I think. You really want to make amends? You really want to make things right?"
"More than anything." Lincoln assured him. His father stared at him for a moment longer, gauging his sincerity… then gave a small nod.
"Then you have to bring them together," He said. Lincoln's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Well… yeah, that's what I'm-"
"No, Lincoln. What you're planning to do is tell these kids the truth, and then what? Share custody? Visit them when you can? You really think that would do anything to help?" Lincoln averted his eyes and chewed his lip in thought. His father had a point; even if he revealed the truth to his kids, even if he tried to reconnect with his sisters, what then? He couldn't see them all the time, right? He had his wife, their children, not to mention Loan… he had his family. How could he split his time between eight others?
"...What can I do, then…?"
"The problem is that you're only thinking of them as your kids." Lynn explained. "But they're more than that: they're each others' siblings, every one of them. They're going to need each other just as much as they're going to need you. So don't tear yourself apart trying to be a father to each of them… be a father to all of them. Bring them together, under one roof. As a family." Again, he was right… Lincoln was only looking at things from his own perspective, failing to understand the bigger picture. Thinking back, he couldn't imagine having to grow up without his sisters in his life, later events aside. Loan was certainly happier since moving in with them and the twins, and even the timid Bobby took a quick liking to her. Liena had also been thrilled to meet her three half-siblings, and Lyle…
Well, Lincoln was sure he'd warm up to them in time.
"That's… a good idea, I guess…" Lincoln muttered. "...But things are getting a bit cramped as is, and there's no way in hell I could afford a place big enough."
"I guess that would be an issue, wouldn't it…" Lynn mumbled before falling silent again. He seemed a bit anxious, as though he were deeply considering something; finally the man leaned back with a sigh. "...Earlier, you asked about your mother."
"Huh? Oh, uh, right…" Lincoln said, unsure what this had to do with the current situation. "How's she doing?"
"She's… not well," Lynn said quietly.
"Not well…?" There was solemn note to his father's voice that made Lincoln's stomach twist into knots. "What do you mean 'not well'? I-is it serious…?!"
"I wouldn't bother telling you if it wasn't," His father said. "It's her heart. Some fancy medical term, cardi… pathy, or something like that. Runs in her side of the family, apparently… go figure." Lincoln felt a wave of guilt wash over him; as bad as his father had taken the truth of his grandchildren's parentage, the revelation had absolutely destroyed his mother. He knew stress could lead to heart disease, and even if his father wouldn't say it something in his gut told him he was responsible for this… hereditary or not.
"Lily didn't say anything about this…"
"Because we haven't told her, yet."
"I-I… is it… can they cure it?"
"It's… treatable. Possibly, anyway..." Lynn said. "There's a cardiologist out-of-state, one of the best in the country for this kind of thing. So… we're leaving Michigan for good." Lincoln turned to his father with wide eyes.
"You're moving…?" The man gave a nod of confirmation. "To where?"
"Away, Lincoln." Lynn said plainly. "That's all you need to know." Lincoln flinched at his father's icy tone. "Anyway, my point: we're selling the house. Obviously." It took his son a moment to process what he was getting at.
"What're… oh. Oh."
"It could use some TLC, but it's in decent shape… honestly, probably better shape than it was." Lynn said, glancing over at this son. "I'm willing to give you a good price on it, if you want it." A small grin crossed Lincoln's face. He couldn't believe what he was hearing… the house could be his. The house.
His home.
"I… wow, dad…" He stammered; Lynn grimaced and turned away, seemingly irritated by his son's sincerity. "That's… that'd be great! I… wait, I mean, I still need to talk to Ronnie about, well, all of this, I-"
"Do what you have to," Lynn huffed. "Talk to your wife and sisters, figure things out. Or not, I really don't care." He grasped the armrest and groaned, getting to his feet with noticeable difficulty.
"Dad… are you-" Lincoln began, but his father simply waved off his concern.
"We're leaving in two months," The elder Loud said. "I'll give you till the 29th to make up your mind… after that, I'm putting it back on the market. And that's the only reason I want you calling me again, got it?"
"I…" Lincoln trailed off, averting his eyes from his father. "...Yeah. Yeah, I got it."
"Good." Lynn said with a curt nod. "I guess that's that, then."
"...Yeah." Lincoln muttered. Lynn's frown deepened as he glanced over at his son. His gaze lingered on the sullen man sitting before him, taking in his appearance much as Lincoln had taken in his. He still looked so much like the child he'd known… his white hair, freckled cheeks, chipped overbite. Those baby-blue eyes, just like Rita's. And yet even at thirty years of age, the man looked almost as brow-beaten and exhausted as he did. Lynn sighed; he supposed if he was ever going to say it, it had to be now.
"I… I don't hate you, Lincoln." He said quietly, his son looking back up at him in surprise. "I don't hate any of you, I never could. But I can't forgive you, either… not for what you did to us. To this family."
"I know." Lincoln's voice was barely loud enough for his father to hear, but he got the message nonetheless. He knew his son was genuinely remorseful… he knew his son was a good man. But Lynn could only forgive so much.
"You still have a chance to set things right with them, though." Lynn said. "And I'm sure you will. You'll try your best, at least... you always did." The older man adjusted his coat before giving his son a half-hearted pat on the shoulder. "The rest is up to you, Lincoln. Good luck." With that, he turned and set back off down the path. Lincoln felt conflicted as he watched him leave… part of him wanted to beg for forgiveness. Part of him wanted to scream at the man for being so dismissive of his own children.
Part of him just wanted to hug his father again.
"D-dad!" Lincoln called out as he stood from the bench, halting his father in his tracks. "Look, I get that you resent me, and the others too… but the kids didn't do anything wrong. They… t-they deserve to know their grandparents, at least." For a few moments Lynn neither spoke nor moved, not so much as glancing back at his son.
"...Goodbye, Lincoln." And that was that; Lynn continued on without saying anything further. Lincoln stood and watched him walk away, not moving until the man had completely disappeared from his sight. Then, Lincoln let out a deep breath and collapsed back onto the bench, his knees giving way beneath him. To say that their meeting had been emotionally draining would be an understatement… he almost felt physically exhausted, and as much as he wanted to hurry back home and pass out on the couch even the mere task of walking to his car seemed daunting at the moment. So he sat, and waited.
And thought.
He'd like to believe that his father's noncommittal response had been a 'yes'... or even a 'maybe' would suffice. But, his gut told him otherwise. What he and his sisters had done had hurt their parents so deeply that even now they were still feeling its impact. It was hardly surprising that they'd want nothing to do with them or their inscestuous offspring. Hell, Lincoln doubted he would ever even speak to the man in person again.
Perhaps it was for the best.
After some time, Lincoln felt rested enough to get back on his feet. He trudged his way down the path, the leaves crunching beneath his feet as he walked. Lincoln had a lot to think about, to be sure… a lot to consider, and a lot to discuss. In any case, he knew that soon enough his life would be getting a hell of a lot more complicated than it already was.
As he drove home, Lincoln couldn't help but take a small detour. He veered off from the main roads, past familiar landmarks and down the peaceful residential streets. Finally, after some time he reached his destination: 1216 Franklin Ave.
His childhood home.
Lincoln parked across the street and got out of his car, hopeful that his parents wouldn't see him, assuming they were even home. It hadn't changed much over the years… it bore a fresh coat of paint, and the lawn was free from the discarded toys and junk that had once littered the grass. But other than that, it looked almost exactly as he'd remembered it.
Lincoln chuckled as the memories came back to him. It was a chaotic place, sure… and kind of a dump to boot. But it had been his home and, despite everything, he remembered it fondly. Perhaps his own children could make good memories there too.
He smirked, his gaze lingering on the old house a while longer before getting back into his car. Things were still far from set in stone, of course… he had no idea how the hell he was going to pitch this to his sisters, let alone his WIFE. But he'd think of something. He always did.
As Lincoln drove onwards towards Hazeltucky, he couldn't help but feel optimistic. As much as it stung, this final meeting with his father had, in a sense, brought with it a sense of closure. The end of one chapter in Lincoln's life, and the beginning of another.
Back where it all began in the first place.

First Contact

"Ugh, just be quiet already…" Lyle groaned, pulling his pillow over his head in an attempt to drown out his new 'roommate' muttering in his sleep. Well, not so much 'muttering' as making unintelligible noises, as per usual; unlike the boy's annoyingly chatty twin sister, Lyle had yet to hear a single word out of Bobby beyond a simple 'mhm' or 'uh-uh'. Heck, he wasn't even sure if the boy could understand the majority of what was said to him. Not that he particularly wanted to talk to the little twerp, but at five years old he should be able to say something, right? Besides, he had to share a room with the kid… they should at least be able to communicate.
It had been a little over three weeks since he and Liena moved in with their father. When the truth came out, Lyle hadn't thought much of it. Unlike the others, his mother had never seen fit to hide his parentage from him. He understood the taboo nature of his conception, and he understood why his 'uncle' had to remain just that: an uncle. So when he'd proposed the arrangement, Lyle had fully expected his mother to decline.
To his profound disappointment, she hadn't.
'That's a great idea!' She'd said. 'Brothers and sisters should totes grow up together!' Lyle disagreed entirely. He had been perfectly happy living with his mom and sister; his only sister, as far as he was concerned. But despite his protests, he quickly found himself sharing a home with his father and stepmother, their two irritating brats, and a woman-child that couldn't even leave the house without having a panic attack. And worse still, their father had reached out to the others as well. It was only a matter of time before even more of his half-siblings claimed what little peace and quiet he had left.
Lyle sighed and turned onto his side, glaring at the blanket-covered lump in Bobby's bed. It wasn't fair. He'd been happy living with his mother. He adored her, and she adored him. And now? Now, not only had he been separated from her, but rather than bunk with Liena he'd been forced to share a room with his 'little brother'... and at his mother's insistence, no less. Apparently both she and Ronnie agreed that rooming together would be good for both of them, though Lyle couldn't imagine how. 'Just give him a chance,' Liena had told him. 'I'm sure you two will get along.' Lyle had no idea how he was supposed to bond with a child that couldn't even talk, but if nothing else at least he was quiet.
"Nnnnn…" Well, usually quiet anyway. Tonight, the boy seemed intent on making as much noise as possible.
"Be quiet," Lyle repeated, hissing through his teeth. He breathed a sigh of relief as Bobby's murmurs petered off, only to return a moment later, seemingly even louder than before. With a growl of frustration, Lyle threw off his blanket and got out of bed. "That's it," He snarled, stomping across the room to Bobby's bed. Whether he could understand him or not, he was going to give this kid a piece of his mind. "Do you have any idea how late it is?!" Lyle shouted down at the child-shaped lump in the bedsheets. "I'm tired! I'm trying to sleep! Shut up!" But the muffled babbling didn't let up in the slightest. Lyle balled his hands into fists, his face scrunching up in anger. "Hey! Didn't you hear me?!" He snapped, grabbing the boy's blanket and yanking it away roughly. "I said shut-"
As he pulled the blanket aside, Lyle's harsh words died in his throat. Bobby was trembling, curled into a fetal position with his face buried deep into his pillow.
He was crying.
"...Uh…" Lyle let go of the blanket, his brow furrowing at the sight before him. "...Bobby?" The boy didn't respond, simply letting out a sob and burying his face further into his pillow. Lyle frowned, letting go of the blanket as his anger faded away. "H-hey… Bobby." He reached out, feeling the younger boy jump slightly as he touched his shoulder. Bobby sniffled, pulling away from the pillow and wiping his eyes on his sleeve before glancing over his shoulder at Lyle. His eyes were red and wet with still-flowing tears. There was an awkward silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle or hiccup from the younger boy until Lyle spoke again. "Um… are you okay?" As expected, Bobby did not respond; he simply looked away, sniffling again and dabbing at his eyes with his sleeve. Lyle averted his eyes and rubbed his arm sheepishly, feeling a strong sense of guilt wash over him. Perhaps he'd been too harsh on him… Bobby was a sensitive boy after all, not to mention younger than him. "It's… it's because I yelled at you, isn't it…?" Lyle said with a sigh. "Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Uh-uh." Bobby mumbled, giving a small shake of his head. Lyle couldn't help but feel slightly pleased at this… it wasn't much, but it was a response at least.
"Well, what's wrong then?" He asked; again the little boy said nothing, hanging his head and wringing the ends of his sleeves. Lyle let out a huff and climbed onto the bed to sit beside him. "Hey… look at me," Lyle said softly. "What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"
"...Uh-uh."
"Are you feeling sick?"
"Uh-uh."
"Okay… um…" The effeminate boy muttered. "Is it too dark…? I think there's another night light somewhere..."
"Uh-uh." Lyle sighed and hung his head; this was getting him nowhere. Bobby seemed to pick up on his frustration and hugged his pillow to his chest, mumbling unintelligibly before taking a deep breath and trying again. "A-ah… R-R-Re… Rein…"
"Reina…?" Lyle asked. Bobby swallowed and gave a small nod.
"...Reina." Now, it was starting to make sense. Lyle had been so preoccupied with his own situation that he'd failed to consider that Bobby was in the same boat that he was… he and Reina had shared a room ever since the day they were born, and Lyle knew fully well just how close the two were. Reina had even thrown an explosive temper tantrum when their father revealed their new sleeping arrangements, though Bobby had remained silent as per usual.
"You miss her, don't you?" The little boy nodded again, embracing his pillow as though it were Reina herself. Before, Lyle would often snuggle up beside his sister for comfort when he was scared; perhaps the twins used to do the same. "I… know how you feel," Lyle admitted. "I miss Liena, too." Bobby glanced at him with an expression that was difficult to read. Sympathetic, perhaps. "It feels lonely without her, even though you're here. You feel the same, right?" The younger child frowned and nodded.
"...Mhm…" He mumbled before the two fell silent again. Lyle looked away, pursing his lips in thought. In all the time he'd known Bobby, this was the first time they had actually conversed.
Well… in a manner of speaking, anyway.
Still, even with so little actually being said, Lyle couldn't help but feel a connection with the boy… or an understanding, at least. He wasn't the only one struggling to adapt to the change.
...But he was the only one treating the other with hostility.
"Look…" Lyle took a deep breath, then exhaled. "...I'm… sorry," He said, visibly wincing as the words left his mouth. "I've been a jerk. Whether or not we like it, this is how it's going to be. So… I guess we should at least try to get along, right?" For a moment Bobby didn't respond; he simply stared at the older boy, as though studying him. Then, a small, barely noticeable smile crossed his face… the first Lyle had seen from him.
"...Mhm." Lyle couldn't help but return the boy's smirk with one of his own. There was another odd pause before Lyle cleared his throat.
"Alright… move over," He said; Bobby tilted his head in confusion. "You're lonely, I'm lonely, and honestly I'd rather not listen to you whining all night. So move over." Though hesitant, Bobby slowly scooted aside to give his brother space to lie down. Lyle awkwardly settled in beside him and pulled the blanket up to cover them. "Pillow?" Bobby glanced down at the pillow in his arms with a furrowed brow, frowning slightly before giving a reluctant nod. He set it down behind them, thankful that it was big enough to share.
"A-ah… um…" Bobby mumbled, wringing his hands in uncertainty. "A-a-a… you… s-s-s-"
"It's easier to sleep with someone next to you, isn't it?" The little boy thought for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Then it's fine. Now…" Lyle paused to stifle a yawn. "It's late, and I'm tired. So let's get to sleep."
"...Mhm."
Bobby scooted a bit further down the bed before laying back and resting his head against the pillow. He still looked a bit uncertain about sharing a bed with his older brother… unsurprising, considering that they barely knew one another. But for Lyle at least, the presence of another's warmth provided at least some comfort. The boy yawned again before settling down against the pillow and shutting his eyes.
"Good night, Bo-" Lyle was cut short, his eyes snapping open as he felt a weight pressing against his side; he looked down, grimacing at the sight of Bobby snuggling up against him. He didn't mind sleeping beside the kid, but this was a bit much. Still, he was soft and warm, and quite frankly Lyle was far too tired to care. With a sigh of resignation, Lyle let his arm gently rest around the small boy's shoulders and shut his eyes again. "...Good night, Bobby." His little brother smirked and nestled into his side.
"...Good night, Lyle."
- 7
- 8
- 9
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The Trillhouse SinThology